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diff --git a/13723-h/13723-h.htm b/13723-h/13723-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ca207a4 --- /dev/null +++ b/13723-h/13723-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8162 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Leonora, by Arnold Bennett</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 { + text-align: center; +} + +hr { + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; +} + +hr.long { + width: 70%; +} + +hr.short { + width: 50% +} + +/* page numbers float in the margin */ +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} + +.indexterm { + margin-bottom: 0em; + font-weight: bold; +} + +.indexentry { + margin-left: 2em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; +} + +.footnote { + font-size: 0.9em; + margin-left: 2em; +} + +.display { + margin-left: 2em; + margin-right: 2em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; +} + +.figure { + padding: 1em; + margin: 0; + text-align: center; + font-size: 0.9em; +} + +div.contents>.chapter { + font-weight: bold; +} + +div.contents>.section { + margin-left: 2em; + margin-top: 0; + margin-bottom: 0; +} + +/* poems */ + +.poem { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br { + display: none; +} + +.poem .stanza { + margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; +} + +.poem span { + display: block; + margin: 0; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; +} + +.poem .caesura { + vertical-align: -200%; +} + +.poem p { +margin: 0; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +/* format indented lines as <p class=i2> or <p class=i4> */ +.poem p.i2 { + margin-left: 2em; +} + +.poem p.i4 { + margin-left: 4em; +} + + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 9pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13723 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Leonora, by Arnold Bennett</h1> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<h1>LEONORA</h1> +<h3>A NOVEL</h3> +<h2>BY ARNOLD BENNETT</h2> +<h3>AUTHOR OF <i>THE GRAND BABYLON HOTEL</i>, <i>THE GATES OF WRATH</i>, +<i>ANNA OF THE FIVE TOWNS</i> ETC.</h3> +<h3>1903</h3> +<br /> +<hr class='long' /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name='CONTENTS' id="CONTENTS"></a> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<div class='contents'> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_I'>I. THE HOUSEHOLD AT +HILLPORT</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_II'>II. MESHACH AND +HANNAH</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_III'>III. THE CALL</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV'>IV. AN INTIMACY</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_V'>V. THE CHANCE</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI'>VI. COMIC OPERA</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII'>VII. THE +DEPARTURE</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'>VIII. THE DANCE</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX'>IX. A DEATH IN THE +FAMILY</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_X'>X. IN THE GARDEN</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI'>XI. THE REFUSAL</a></p> +<p class='chapter'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII'>XII. IN LONDON</a></p> +</div> +<hr class='long' /> +<br /> +<a name='Page1' id="Page1"></a><span class='pagenum'>1</span> +<a name='LEONORA' id="LEONORA"></a> +<a name='CHAPTER_I' id="CHAPTER_I"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>THE HOUSEHOLD AT HILLPORT</h3> +<p>She was walking, with her customary air of haughty and rapt +leisure, across the market-place of Bursley, when she observed in +front of her, at the top of Oldcastle Street, two men conversing +and gesticulating vehemently, each seated alone in a dog-cart. +These persons, who had met from opposite directions, were her +husband, John Stanway, the earthenware manufacturer, and David +Dain, the solicitor who practised at Hanbridge. Stanway's cob, +always quicker to start than to stop, had been pulled up with +difficulty, drawing his cart just clear of the other one, so that +the two portly and middle-aged talkers were most uncomfortably +obliged to twist their necks in order to see one another; the +attitude did nothing to ease the obvious asperity of the +discussion. She thought the <a name='Page2' id= +"Page2"></a><span class='pagenum'>2</span>spectacle undignified and +silly; and she marvelled, as all women marvel, that men who conduct +themselves so magisterially should sometimes appear so infantile. +She felt glad that it was Thursday afternoon, and the shops closed +and the streets empty.</p> +<p>Immediately John Stanway caught sight of her he said a few words +to the lawyer in a somewhat different key, and descended from his +vehicle. As she came up to them Mr. Dain saluted her with bashful +abruptness, and her proud face broke as if by the loosing of a +spell into a generous and captivating smile; Mr. Dain blushed, the +vision was too much for his composure; he moved his horse forward a +yard or two, and then jerked it back again, gruffly advising it to +stand still. Stanway turned to her bluntly, unceremoniously, as to +a creature to whom he owed nothing. She noticed once more how the +whole character of his face was changed under annoyance.</p> +<p>'Here, Nora!' he said, speaking with the raw anger of a man with +a new-born grievance, 'run this home for me. I'm going over to +Hanbridge with Mr. Dain.'</p> +<p>'Very well,' she agreed with soothing calmness, and taking the +reins she climbed up to the high driving-seat.</p> +<p><a name='Page3' id="Page3"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>3</span>'And I say, Nora—Wo-<i>back</i>!' he flamed +out passionately to the impatient cob, 'where're your manners, you +idiot? I say, Nora, I doubt I shall be late for tea—half-past +six. Tell Milly she must be in. The others too.' He gave these +instructions in a lower tone, and emphasised them by a stormy and +ominous frown. Then with an injured 'Now, Dain!' he got into the +equipage of his legal adviser and departed towards Hanbridge, +trailing clouds of vexation.</p> +<p>Leonora drove smartly but cautiously down the steep slope of +Oldcastle Street; she could drive as well as a woman may. A group +of clay-soiled girls lounging in the archway of a manufactory +exchanged rude but admiring remarks about her as she passed. The +paces of the cob, the dazzle of the silver-plated harness, the fine +lines of the cart, the unbending mien of the driver, made a +glittering cynosure for envy. All around was grime, squalor, +servitude, ugliness; the inglorious travail of two hundred thousand +people, above ground and below it, filled the day and the night. +But here, as it were suddenly, out of that earthy and laborious +bed, rose the blossom of luxury, grace, and leisure, the final +elegance of the industrial district of the Five Towns. The contrast +between Leonora and the rough creatures in the archway, between the +<a name='Page4' id="Page4"></a><span class='pagenum'>4</span>flower +and the phosphates which nourished it, was sharp and decisive: and +Leonora, in the September sunshine, was well aware of the contrast. +She felt that the loud-voiced girls were at one extremity of the +scale and she at the other; and this arrangement seemed natural, +necessary, inevitable.</p> +<p>She was a beautiful woman. She had a slim perfect figure; quite +simply she carried her head so high and her shoulders so square +that her back seemed to be hollowed out, and no tightness on the +part of a bodice could hide this charming concavity. Her face was +handsome with its large regular features; one noticed the abundant +black hair under the hat, the thick eyebrows, the brown and opaque +skin, the teeth impeccably white, and the firm, unyielding mouth +and chin. Underneath the chin, half muffling it, came a white +muslin bow, soft, frail, feminate, an enchanting disclaimer of that +facial sternness and the masculinity of that tailor-made dress, a +signal at once provocative and wistful of the woman. She had +brains; they appeared in her keen dark eyes. Her judgment was +experienced and mature. She knew her world and its men and women. +She was not too soon shocked, not too severe in her verdicts, not +the victim of too many illusions. And yet, though everything about +her witnessed <a name='Page5' id="Page5"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>5</span>to a serene temperament and the continual +appeasing of mild desires, she dreamed sadly, like the girls in the +archway, of an existence more distinguished than her own; an +existence brilliant and tender, where dalliance and high endeavour, +virtue and the flavour of sin, eternal appetite and eternal +satisfaction, were incredibly united. Even now, on her fortieth +birthday, she still believed in the possibility of a conscious +state of positive and continued happiness, and regretted that she +should have missed it.</p> +<p>The imminence and the arrival of this dire birthday, this day of +wrath on which the proudest woman will kneel to implacable destiny +and beg a reprieve, had induced the reveries natural to +it—the self-searching, the exchange of old fallacies for new, +the dismayed glance forward, the lingering look behind. Absorbed +though she was in the control of the sensitive steed, the field of +her mind's eye seemed to be entirely filled by an image of the +woman of forty as imagined by herself at the age of twenty. And she +was that woman now! But she did not feel like forty; at thirty she +had not felt thirty; she could only accept the almanac and the +rules of arithmetic. The interminable years of her marriage rolled +back, and she was eighteen again, ingenuous and trustful, convinced +that her versatile husband <a name='Page6' id= +"Page6"></a><span class='pagenum'>6</span>was unique among his sex. +The fading of a short-lived and factitious passion, the descent of +the unique male to the ordinary level of males, the births of her +three girls and their rearing and training: all these things seemed +as trifles to her, mere excrescences and depressions in the vast +tableland of her monotonous and placid career. She had had no +career. Her strength of will, of courage, of love, had never been +taxed; only her patience. 'And my life is over!' she told herself, +insisting that her life was over without being able to believe +it.</p> +<p>As the dog-cart was crossing the railway bridge at Shawport, at +the foot of the rise to Hillport, Leonora overtook her eldest +daughter. She drew up. From the height of the dog-cart she looked +at her child; and the girlishness of Ethel's form, the +self-consciousness of newly-arrived womanhood in her innocent and +timid eyes, the virgin richness of her vitality, made Leonora feel +sad, superior, and protective.</p> +<p>'Oh, mother! Where's father?' Ethel exclaimed, staring at her, +struck with a foolish wonder to see her mother where her father had +been an hour before.</p> +<p>'What a schoolgirl she is! And at her age I was a mother twice +over!' thought Leonora; <a name='Page7' id="Page7"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>7</span>but she said aloud: 'Jump up quickly, my dear. +You know Prince won't stand.'</p> +<p>Ethel obeyed, awkwardly. As she did so the mother scrutinised +the rather lanky figure, the long dark skirt, the pale blouse, and +the straw hat, in a single glance that missed no detail. Leonora +was not quite dissatisfied; Ethel carried herself tolerably, she +resembled her mother; she had more distinction than her sisters, +but her manner was often lackadaisical.</p> +<p>'Your father was very vexed about something,' said Leonora, when +she had recounted the meeting at the top of Oldcastle Street. +'Where's Milly?'</p> +<p>'I don't know, mother—I think she went out for a walk.' +The girl added apprehensively: 'Why?'</p> +<p>'Oh, nothing!' said Leonora, pretending not to observe that +Ethel had blushed. 'If I were you, Ethel, I should let that belt +out one hole ... not here, my dear child, not here. When you get +home. How was Aunt Hannah?'</p> +<p>Every day one member or another of John Stanway's family had to +pay a visit to John's venerable Aunt Hannah, who lived with her +brother, the equally venerable Uncle Meshach, in a little house +near the parish church of St. Luke's. This was a social rite the +omission of which <a name='Page8' id="Page8"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>8</span>nothing could excuse. On that day it was Ethel +who had called.</p> +<p>'Auntie was all right. She was making a lot of parkin, and of +course I had to taste it, all new, you know. I'm simply +stodged.'</p> +<p>'Don't say "stodged."'</p> +<p>'Oh, mother! You won't let us say <i>anything</i>,' Ethel +dismally protested; and Leonora secretly sympathised with the grown +woman in revolt.</p> +<p>'Oh! And Aunt Hannah wishes you many happy returns. Uncle +Meshach came back from the Isle of Man last night. He gave me a +note for you. Here it is.'</p> +<p>'I can't take it now, my dear. Give it me afterwards.'</p> +<p>'I think Uncle Meshach's a horrid old thing!' said Ethel.</p> +<p>'My dear girl! Why?'</p> +<p>'Oh! I do. I'm glad he's only father's uncle and not ours. I do +hate that name. Fancy being called Meshach!'</p> +<p>'That isn't uncle's fault, anyhow,' said Leonora.</p> +<p>'You always stick up for him, mother. I believe it's because he +flatters you, and says you look younger than any of us.' Ethel's +tone was half roguish, half resentful.</p> +<p><a name='Page9' id="Page9"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>9</span>Leonora gave a short unsteady laugh. She knew +well that her age was plainly written beneath her eyes, at the +corners of her mouth, under her chin, at the roots of the hair +above her ears, and in her cold, confident gaze. Youth! She would +have forfeited all her experience, her knowledge, and the charm of +her maturity, to recover the irrecoverable! She envied the woman by +her side, and envied her because she was lightsome, thoughtless, +kittenish, simple, unripe. For a brief moment, vainly coveting the +ineffable charm of Ethel's immaturity, she had a sharp perception +of the obscure mutual antipathy which separates one generation from +the next. As the cob rattled into Hillport, that aristocratic and +plutocratic suburb of the town, that haunt of exclusiveness, that +retreat of high life and good tone, she thought how commonplace, +vulgar, and petty was the opulent existence within those +tree-shaded villas, and that she was doomed to droop and die there, +while her girls, still unfledged, might, if they had the sense to +use their wings, fly away.... Yet at the same time it gratified her +to reflect that she and hers were in the picture, and conformed to +the standards; she enjoyed the admiration which the sight of +herself and Ethel and the expensive cob and cart and accoutrements +must arouse in the punctilious and stupid breast of Hillport.</p> +<p><a name='Page10' id="Page10"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>10</span>She was picking flowers for the table from the +vivid borders of the lawn, when Ethel ran into the garden from the +drawing-room. Bran, the St. Bernard, was loose and investigating +the turf.</p> +<p>'Mother, the letter from Uncle Meshach.'</p> +<p>Leonora took the soiled envelope, and handing over the flowers +to Ethel, crossed the lawn and sat down on the rustic seat, facing +the house. The dog followed her, and with his great paw demanded +her attention, but she abruptly dismissed him. She thought it +curiously characteristic of Uncle Meshach that he should write her +a letter on her fortieth birthday; she could imagine the uncouth +mixture of wit, rude candour, and wisdom with which he would greet +her; his was a strange and sinister personality, but she knew that +he admired her. The note was written in Meshach's scraggy and +irregular hand, in three lines starting close to the top of half a +sheet of note paper. It ran: 'Dear Nora, I hear young Twemlow is +come back from America. You had better see as your John looks out +for himself.' There was nothing else, no signature.</p> +<p>As she read it, she experienced precisely the physical +discomfort which those feel who travel for the first time in a +descending lift. Fifteen <a name='Page11' id= +"Page11"></a><span class='pagenum'>11</span>quiet years had elapsed +since the death of her husband's partner William Twemlow, and a +quarter of a century since William's wild son, Arthur, had run away +to America. Yet Uncle Meshach's letter seemed to invest these +far-off things with a mysterious and disconcerting actuality. The +misgivings about her husband which long practice and continual +effort had taught her how to keep at bay, suddenly overleapt their +artificial barriers and swarmed upon her.</p> +<p>The long garden front of the dignified eighteenth-century house, +nearly the last villa in Hillport on the road to Oldcastle, was +extended before her. She had played in that house as a child, and +as a woman had watched, from its windows, the years go by like a +procession. That house was her domain. Hers was the supreme +intelligence brooding creatively over it. Out of walls and floors +and ceilings, out of stairs and passages, out of furniture and +woven stuffs, out of metal and earthenware, she had made a home. +From the lawn, in the beautiful sadness of the autumn evening, any +one might have seen and enjoyed the sight of its high French +windows, its glowing sun-blinds, its faintly-tinted and beribboned +curtains, its creepers, its glimpses of occasional tables, tall +vases, and dressing-mirrors. But Leonora, as she sat holding the +letter in her <a name='Page12' id="Page12"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>12</span>long white hand, could call up and see the +interior of every room to the most minute details. She, the +housemistress, knew her home by heart. She had thought it into +existence; and there was not a cabinet against a wall, not a rug on +a floor, not a cushion on a chair, not a knicknack on a +mantelpiece, not a plate in a rack, but had come there by the +design of her brain. Without possessing much artistic taste, +Leonora had an extraordinary talent for domestic equipment, +organisation, and management. She was so interested in her home, so +exacting in her ideals, that she could never reach finality; the +place went through a constant succession of improvements; its +comfort and its attractiveness were always on the increase. And the +result was so striking that her supremacy in the woman's craft +could not be challenged. All Hillport, including her husband, bowed +to it. Mrs. Stanway's principles, schemes, methods, even her +trifling dodges, were mentioned with deep respect by the ladies of +Hillport, who often expressed their astonishment that, although the +wheels of Mrs. Stanway's household revolved with perfect +smoothness, Mrs. Stanway herself appeared never to be doing +anything. That astonishment was Leonora's pride. As her brain +marshalled with ease the thousand diverse details of the wonderful +domestic <a name='Page13' id="Page13"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>13</span>machine, she could appreciate, better than any +other woman in Hillport, without vanity and without humility, the +singular excellence of her gifts and of the organism they had +perfected. And now this creation of hers, this complex structure of +mellow brick-and-mortar, and fine chattels, and nice and luxurious +habit, seemed to Leonora to tremble at the whisper of an enigmatic +message from Uncle Meshach. The foreboding caused by the letter +mingled with the menace of approaching age and with the sadness of +the early autumn, and confirmed her mood.</p> +<p>Millicent, her youngest, ran impulsively to her in the garden. +Millicent was eighteen, and the days when she went to school and +wore her hair in a long plait were still quite fresh in the girl's +mind. For this reason she was often inordinately and aggressively +adult.</p> +<p>'Mamma! I'm going to have my tea first thing. The Burgesses have +asked me to play tennis. I needn't wait, need I? It gets dark so +soon.' As Millicent stood there, ardently persuasive, she forgot +that adult persons do not stand on one leg or put their fingers in +their mouths.</p> +<p>Leonora looked fondly at the sprightly girl, vain, +self-conscious, and blonde and pretty as a doll in her white dress. +She recognised all <a name='Page14' id="Page14"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>14</span>Millicent's faults and shortcomings, and yet was +overcome by the charm of her presence.</p> +<p>'No, Milly, you must wait.' Throned on the rustic seat, +inscrutable and tyrannous Leonora, a wistful, wayward atom in the +universe, laid her command upon the other wayward atom; and she +thought how strange it was that this should be.</p> +<p>'But, Ma——'</p> +<p>'Father specially said you must be in for tea. You know you have +far too much freedom. What have you been doing all the +afternoon?'</p> +<p>'I haven't been doing anything, Ma.'</p> +<p>Leonora feared for the strict veracity of her youngest, but she +said nothing, and Milly retired full of annoyance against the +inconceivable caprices of parents.</p> +<p>At twenty minutes to seven John Stanway entered his large and +handsome dining-room, having been driven home by David Dain, whose +residence was close by. Three languorous women and the erect and +motionless parlourmaid behind the door were waiting for him. He +went straight to his carver's chair, and instantly the women were +alert, galvanised into vigilant life. Leonora, opposite to her +husband, began to pour out the tea; the impassive parlourmaid stood +consummately ready to hand the cups; Ethel and Millicent took their +seats along one side of the <a name='Page15' id= +"Page15"></a><span class='pagenum'>15</span>table, with an air of +nonchalance which was far from sincere; a chair on the other side +remained empty.</p> +<p>'Turn the gas on, Bessie,' said John. Daylight had scarcely +begun to fail; but nevertheless the man's tone announced a +grievance, that, with half-a-dozen women in the house, he the +exhausted breadwinner should have been obliged to attend to such a +trifle. Bessie sprang to pull the chain of the Welsbach tap, and +the white and silver of the tea-table glittered under the yellow +light. Every woman looked furtively at John's morose +countenance.</p> +<p>Neither dark nor fair, he was a tall man, verging towards +obesity, and the fulness of his figure did not suit his thin, +rather handsome face. His age was forty-eight. There was a small +bald spot on the crown of his head. The clipped brown beard seemed +thick and plenteous, but this effect was given by the coarseness of +the hairs, not by their number; the moustache was long and +exiguous. His blue eyes were never still, and they always avoided +any prolonged encounter with other eyes. He was a personable +specimen of the clever and successful manufacturer. His clothes +were well cut, the necktie of a discreet smartness. His grandfather +had begun life as a working potter; nevertheless John Stanway spoke +<a name='Page16' id="Page16"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>16</span>easily and correctly in a refined variety of the +broad Five Towns accent; he could open a door for a lady, and was +noted for his neatness in compliment.</p> +<p>It was his ambition always to be calm, oracular, weighty; always +to be sure of himself; but his temperament was incurably nervous, +restless, and impulsive. He could not be still, he could not wait. +Instinct drove him to action for the sake of action, instinct made +him seek continually for notice, prominence, comment. These +fundamental appetites had urged him into public life—to the +Borough Council and the Committee of the Wedgwood Institution. He +often affected to be buried in cogitation upon municipal and +private business affairs, when in fact his attention was disengaged +and watchful. Leonora knew that this was so to-night. The idea of +his duplicity took possession of her mind. Deeps yawned before her, +deeps that swallowed up the solid and charming house and the +comfortable family existence, as she glanced at that face at once +strange and familiar to her. 'Is it all right?' she kept thinking. +'Is John all that he seems? I wonder whether he has ever committed +murder.' Yes, even this absurd thought, which she knew to be +absurd, crossed her mind.</p> +<p>'Where's Rose?' he demanded suddenly in <a name='Page17' id= +"Page17"></a><span class='pagenum'>17</span>the depressing silence +of the tea-table, as if he had just discovered the absence of his +second daughter.</p> +<p>'She's been working in her room all day,' said Leonora.</p> +<p>'That's no reason why she should be late for tea.'</p> +<p>At that moment Rose entered. She was very tall and pale, her +dress was a little dowdy. Like her father and Millicent, she +carried her head forward and had a tendency to look downwards, and +her spine seemed flaccid. Ethel was beautiful, or about to be +beautiful; Millicent was pretty; Rose plain. Rose was deficient in +style. She despised style, and regarded her sisters as frivolous +ninnies and gadabouts. She was the serious member of the family, +and for two years had been studying for the Matriculation of London +University.</p> +<p>'Late again!' said her father. 'I shall stop all this exam +work.'</p> +<p>Rose said nothing, but looked resentful.</p> +<p>When the hot dishes had been partaken of, Bessie was dismissed, +and Leonora waited for the bursting of the storm. It was Millicent +who drew it down.</p> +<p>'I think I shall go down to Burgesses, after <a name='Page18' +id="Page18"></a><span class='pagenum'>18</span>all, mamma. It's +quite light,' she said with audacious pertness.</p> +<p>Her father looked at her.</p> +<p>'What were you doing this afternoon, Milly?'</p> +<p>'I went out for a walk, pa.'</p> +<p>'Who with?'</p> +<p>'No one.'</p> +<p>'Didn't I see you on the canal-side with young Ryley?'</p> +<p>'Yes, father. He was going back to the works after dinner, and +he just happened to overtake me.'</p> +<p>Milly and Ethel exchanged a swift glance.</p> +<p>'Happened to overtake you! I saw you as I was driving past, over +the canal bridge. You little thought that I saw you.'</p> +<p>'Well, father, I couldn't help him overtaking me. +Besides——'</p> +<p>'Besides!' he took her up. 'You had your hand on his shoulder. +How do you explain that?'</p> +<p>Millicent was silent.</p> +<p>'I'm ashamed of you, regularly ashamed ... You with your hand on +his shoulder in full sight of the works! And on your mother's +birthday too!'</p> +<p>Leonora involuntarily stirred, For more <a name='Page19' id= +"Page19"></a><span class='pagenum'>19</span>than twenty years it +had been his custom to give her a kiss and a ten-pound note before +breakfast on her birthday, but this year he had so far made no +mention whatever of the anniversary.</p> +<p>'I'm going to put my foot down,' he continued with grieved +majesty. 'I don't want to, but you force me to it. I'll have no +goings-on with Fred Ryley. Understand that. And I'll have no more +idling about. You girls—at least you two—are bone-idle. +Ethel shall begin to go to the works next Monday. I want a clerk. +And you, Milly, must take up the housekeeping. Mother, you'll see +to that.'</p> +<p>Leonora reflected that whereas Ethel showed a marked gift for +housekeeping, Milly was instinctively averse to everything merely +domestic. But with her acquired fatalism she accepted the +ukase.</p> +<p>'You understand,' said John to his pert youngest.</p> +<p>'Yes, papa.'</p> +<p>'No more carrying-on with Fred Ryley—or any one else.'</p> +<p>'No, papa.'</p> +<p>'I've got quite enough to worry me without being bothered by you +girls.'</p> +<p>Rose left the table, consciously innocent both of sloth and of +light behaviour.</p> +<p><a name='Page20' id="Page20"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>20</span>'What are you going to do now, Rose?' He could +not let her off scot-free.</p> +<p>'Read my chemistry, father.'</p> +<p>'You'll do no such thing.'</p> +<p>'I must, if I'm to pass at Christmas,' she said firmly. 'It's my +weakest subject.'</p> +<p>'Christmas or no Christmas,' he replied, 'I'm not going to let +you kill yourself. Look at your face! I wonder your +mother——'</p> +<p>'Run into the garden for a while, my dear,' said Leonora softly, +and the girl moved to obey.</p> +<p>'Rose,' he called her back sharply as his exasperation became +fidgetty. 'Don't be in such a hurry. Open the window—an +inch.'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Ethel and Millicent disappeared after the manner of young +fox-terriers; they did not visibly depart; they were there, one +looked away, they were gone. In the bedroom which they shared, the +door well locked, they threw oft all restraints, conventions, +pretences, and discussed the world, and their own world, with +terrible candour. This sacred and untidy apartment, where many of +the habits of childhood still lingered, was a retreat, a sanctuary +from the law, and the fastness had been ingeniously secured against +surprise by the peculiar position of the bedstead in front of the +doorway.</p> +<p><a name='Page21' id="Page21"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>21</span>'Father is a donkey!' said Ethel.</p> +<p>'And ma never says a word!' said Milly.</p> +<p>'I could simply have smacked him when he brought in mother's +birthday,' Ethel continued, savagely.</p> +<p>'So could I.'</p> +<p>'Fancy him thinking it's you. What a lark!'</p> +<p>'Yes. I don't mind,' said Milly.</p> +<p>'You are a brick, Milly. And I didn't think you were, I didn't +really.'</p> +<p>'What a horrid pig you are, Eth!' Milly protested, and Ethel +laughed.</p> +<p>'Did you give Fred my note all right?' Ethel demanded.</p> +<p>'Yes,' answered Milly. 'I suppose he's coming up to-night?'</p> +<p>'I asked him to.'</p> +<p>'There'll be a frantic row one day. I'm sure there will,' Milly +said meditatively, after a pause.</p> +<p>'Oh! there's bound to be!' Ethel assented, and she added: +'Mother does trust us. Have a choc?'</p> +<p>Milly said yes, and Ethel drew a box of bonbons from her +pocket.</p> +<p>They seemed to contemplate with a fearful joy the probable +exposure of that life of flirtations and chocolate which ran its +secret course side by side with the other life of demure propriety +<a name='Page22' id="Page22"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>22</span>acted out for the benefit of the older +generation. If these innocent and inexperienced souls had been +accused of leading a double life, they would have denied the charge +with genuine indignation. Nevertheless, driven by the universal +longing, and abetted by parental apathy and parental lack of +imagination, they did lead a double life. They chafed bitterly +under the code to which they were obliged ostensibly to submit. In +their moods of revolt, they honestly believed their parents to be +dull and obstinate creatures who had lost the appetite for romance +and ecstasy and were determined to mortify this appetite in others. +They desired heaps of money and the free, informal companionship of +very young men. The latter—at the cost of some intrigue and +subterfuge—they contrived to get. But money they could not +get. Frequently they said to each other with intense earnestness +that they would do anything for money; and they repeated +passionately, 'anything.'</p> +<p>'Just look at that stuck-up thing!' said Milly laughing. They +stood together at the window, and Milly pointed her finger at Rose, +who was walking conscientiously to and fro across the garden in the +gathering dusk.</p> +<p>Ethel rapped on the pane, and the three sisters exchanged +friendly smiles.</p> +<p><a name='Page23' id="Page23"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>23</span>'Rosie will never pass her exam, not if she +lives to be a hundred,' said Ethel. 'And can you imagine father +making me go to the works? Can you imagine the sense of it?'</p> +<p>'He won't let you walk up with Fred at nights,' said Milly, 'so +you needn't think.'</p> +<p>'And your housekeeping!' Ethel exclaimed. 'What a treat father +will have at meals!'</p> +<p>'Oh! I can easily get round mother,' said Milly with confidence. +'I <i>can't</i> housekeep, and ma knows that perfectly well.'</p> +<p>'Well, father will forget all about it in a week or two, that's +one comfort,' Ethel concluded the matter. 'Are you going down to +Burgesses to see Harry?' she inquired, observing Milly put on her +hat.</p> +<p>'Yes,' said Milly. 'Cissie said she'd come for me if I was late. +You'd better stay in and be dutiful.'</p> +<p>'I shall offer to play duets with mother. Don't you be long. +Let's try that chorus for the Operatic before supper.'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>That night, after the girls had kissed them and gone to bed, +John and Leonora remained alone together in the drawing-room. The +first fire of autumn was burning in the grate, and at the other end +of the long room dark curtains <a name='Page24' id= +"Page24"></a><span class='pagenum'>24</span>were drawn across the +French window. Shaded candles lighted the grand piano, at which +Leonora was seated, and a single gas jet illuminated the region of +the hearth, where John, lounging almost at full length in a vast +chair, read the newspaper; otherwise the room was in shadow. John +dropped the 'Signal,' which slid to the hearthrug with a rustle, +and turned his head so that he could just see the left side of his +wife's face and her left hand as it moved over the keys of the +piano. She played with gentle monotony, and her playing seemed +perfunctory, yet agreeable. John watched the glinting of the four +rings on her left hand, and the slow undulations of the drooping +lace at her wrist. He moved twice, and she knew he was about to +speak.</p> +<p>'I say, Leonora,' he said in a confidential tone.</p> +<p>'Yes, my dear,' she responded, complying generously with his +appeal for sympathy. She continued to play for a moment, but even +more softly; and then, as he kept silence, she revolved on the +piano-stool and looked into his face.</p> +<p>'What is it?' she asked in a caressing voice, intensifying her +femininity, forgiving him, excusing him, thinking and making him +think what a good fellow he was, despite certain superficial +faults.</p> +<p><a name='Page25' id="Page25"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>25</span>'You knew nothing of this Ryley business, did +you?' he murmured.</p> +<p>'Oh, no. Are you sure there's anything in it? I don't think +there is for an instant.' And she did not. Even the placing of +Milly's hand on Fred Ryley's shoulder in full sight of the street, +even this she regarded only as the pretty indiscretion of a child. +'Oh! there's nothing in it,' she repeated.</p> +<p>'Well, there's <i>got</i> to be nothing in it. You must keep an +eye on 'em. I won't have it.'</p> +<p>She leaned forward, and, resting her elbows on her knees, put +her chin in her long hands. Her bangles disappeared amid lace.</p> +<p>'What's the matter with Fred?' said she. 'He's a relation; and +you've said before now that he's a good clerk,'</p> +<p>'He's a decent enough clerk. But he's not for our girls.'</p> +<p>'If it's only money——' she began.</p> +<p>'Money!' John cried. 'He'll have money. Oh! he'll have money +right enough. Look here, Nora, I've not told you before, but I'll +tell you now. Uncle Meshach's altered his will in favour of young +Ryley.'</p> +<p>'Oh! Jack!'</p> +<p>John Stanway stood up, gazing at his wife with an air of +martyrised virtue which said: <a name='Page26' id= +"Page26"></a><span class='pagenum'>26</span>'There! what do you +think of that as a specimen of the worries which I keep to +myself?'</p> +<p>She raised her eyebrows with a gesture of deep concern. And all +the time she was asking herself: 'Why did Uncle Meshach alter his +will? Why did he do that? He must have had some reason.' This +question troubled her far more than the blow to their +expectations.</p> +<p>John's maternal grandfather had married twice. By his first wife +he had had one son, Shadrach; and by his second wife two daughters +and a son, Mary (John's mother), Hannah, and Meshach. The last two +had never married. Shadrach had estranged all his family (except +old Ebenezer) by marrying beneath him, and Mary had earned praise +by marrying rather well. These two children, by a useful whim of +the eccentric old man, had received their portions of the patrimony +on their respective wedding-days. They were both dead. Shadrach, +amiable but incompetent, had died poor, leaving a daughter, Susan, +who had repeated, even more reprehensibly, her father's sin of +marrying beneath her. She had married a working potter, and thus +reduced her branch of the family to the status from which old +Ebenezer had originally raised himself. Fred Ryley, now an orphan, +was Susan's only child. As an act of charity John Stanway had given +Fred Ryley a <a name='Page27' id="Page27"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>27</span>stool in the office of his manufactory; but, +though Fred's mother was John's first cousin, John never +acknowledged the fact. John argued that Fred's mother and Fred's +grandfather had made fools of themselves, and that the consequences +were irremediable save by Fred's unaided effort. Such vicissitudes +of blood, and the social contrasts resulting therefrom, are common +enough in the history of families in democratic communities.</p> +<p>Old Ebenezer's will left the residue of his estate, reckoned at +some fifteen thousand pounds, to Meshach and Hannah as joint +tenants with the remainder absolutely to the survivor of them. By +this arrangement, which suited them excellently since they had +always lived together, though neither could touch the principal of +their joint property during their joint lives, the survivor had +complete freedom to dispose of everything. Both Meshach and Hannah +had made a will in sole favour of John.</p> +<p>'Yes,' John said again, 'he's altered it in favour of young +Ryley. David Dain told me the other day. Uncle told Dain he might +tell me.'</p> +<p>'Why has he altered it?' Leonora asked aloud at last.</p> +<p>John shook his head. 'Why does Uncle <a name='Page28' id= +"Page28"></a><span class='pagenum'>28</span>Meshach do anything?' +He spoke with sarcastic irritation. 'I suppose he's taken a sudden +fancy for Susan's child, after ignoring him all these years.'</p> +<p>'And has Aunt Hannah altered her will, too?'</p> +<p>'No. I'm all right in that quarter.'</p> +<p>'Then if your Aunt Hannah lives longest, you'll still come in +for everything, just as if your Uncle Meshach hadn't altered his +will?'</p> +<p>'Yes. But Aunt Hannah won't live for ever. And Uncle Meshach +will. And where shall I be if she dies first?' He went on in a +different tone. 'Of course one of 'em's bound to die soon. Uncle's +sixty-four if he's a day, and the old lady's a year older. And I +want money.'</p> +<p>'Do you, Jack, really?' she said. Long ago she had suspected it, +though John never stinted her. Once more the solid house and their +comfortable existence seemed to shiver and be engulfed.</p> +<p>'By the way, Nora,' he burst out with sudden bright animation, +'I've been so occupied to-day I forgot to wish you many happy +returns. And here's the usual. I hadn't got it on me this +morning.'</p> +<p>He kissed her and gave her a ten-pound note.</p> +<p>'Oh! thanks, Jack!' she said, glancing at <a name='Page29' id= +"Page29"></a><span class='pagenum'>29</span>the note with a +factitious curiosity to hide her embarrassment.</p> +<p>'You're good-looking enough yet!' he exclaimed as he gazed at +her.</p> +<p>'He wants something out of me. He wants something out of me,' +she thought as she gave him a smile for his compliment. And this +idea that he wanted something, that circumstances should have +forced him into the position of an applicant, distressed her. She +grieved for him. She saw all his good qualities—his energy, +vitality, cleverness, facile kindliness, his large masculinity. It +seemed to her, as she gazed up at him from the music-stool in the +shaded solitude or the drawing-room, that she was very intimate +with him, and very dependent on him; and she wished him to be +always flamboyant, imposing, and successful.</p> +<p>'If you are at all hard up, Jack——' She made as if +to reject the note.</p> +<p>'Oh! get out!' he laughed. 'It's not a tenner that I'm short of. +I tell you what you <i>can</i> do,' he went on quickly and lightly. +'I was thinking of raising a bit temporarily on this house. Five +hundred, say. You wouldn't mind, would you?'</p> +<p>The house was her own property, inherited from an aunt. John's +suggestion came as a <a name='Page30' id="Page30"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>30</span>shock to her. To mortgage her house: this was +what he wanted!</p> +<p>'Oh yes, certainly, if you like,' she acquiesced quietly. 'But I +thought—I thought business was so good just now, +and——'</p> +<p>'So it is,' he stopped her with a hint of annoyance. 'I'm short +of capital. Always have been.'</p> +<p>'I see,' she said, not seeing. 'Well, do what you like.'</p> +<p>'Right, my girl. Now—roost!' He extinguished the gas over +the mantelpiece.</p> +<p>The familiar vulgarity of some of his phrases always vexed her, +and 'roost' was one of these phrases. In a flash he fell from a +creature engagingly masculine to the use-worn daily sharer of her +monotonous existence.</p> +<p>'Have you heard about Arthur Twemlow coming over?' she demanded, +half vindictively, as he was preparing to blow out the last candle +on the piano. He stopped.</p> +<p>'Who's Arthur Twemlow?'</p> +<p>'Mr. Twemlow's son, of course,' she said. 'From America.'</p> +<p>'Oh! Him! Coming over, did you say? I wonder what he looks like. +Who told you?'</p> +<p>'Uncle Meshach. And he said I was to say <a name='Page31' id= +"Page31"></a><span class='pagenum'>31</span>you were to look out +for yourself when Arthur Twemlow came. I don't know what he meant. +One of his jokes, I expect.' She tried to laugh.</p> +<p>John looked at her, and then looked away, and immediately blew +out the last candle. But she had seen him turn pale at what Uncle +Meshach had said. Or was that pallor merely the effect on his face +of raising the coloured candle-shade as he extinguished the candle? +She could not be sure.</p> +<p>'Uncle Meshach ought to be in the lunatic asylum, I think,' +John's voice came majestically out of the gloom as they groped +towards the door.</p> +<p>'We shall have to be polite to Arthur Twemlow, when he comes, if +he is coming,' said John after they had gone upstairs. 'I +understand he's quite a reformed character.'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Because she fancied she had noticed that the window at the end +of the corridor was open, she came out of the bedroom a few minutes +later, and traversed the dark corridor to satisfy herself, and +found the window wide open. The night was cloudy and warm, and a +breeze moved among the foliage of the garden. In the mysterious +diffused light she could distinguish the forms of <a name='Page32' +id="Page32"></a><span class='pagenum'>32</span>the poplar trees. +Suddenly the bushes immediately beneath her were disturbed as +though by some animal.</p> +<p>'Good night, Ethel.'</p> +<p>'Good night, Fred.'</p> +<p>She shook with violent agitation as the amazing adieu from the +garden was answered from the direction of her daughter's window. +But the secondary effect of those words, so simply and +affectionately whispered in the darkness, was to bring a tear to +her eye. As the mother comprehended the whole staggering situation, +the woman envied Ethel for her youth, her naughty innocence, her +romance, her incredibly foolish audacity in thus risking the +disaster of parental wrath. Leonora heard cautious footsteps on the +gravel, and the slow closing of a window. 'My life is over!' she +said to herself. 'And hers beginning. And to think that this +afternoon I called her a schoolgirl! What romance have I had in my +life?'</p> +<p>She put her head out of the window. There was no movement now, +but above her a radiance streaming from Rose's dormer showed that +the serious girl of the family, defying commands, plodded +obstinately at her chemistry. As Leonora thought of Rose's +ambition, and Ethel's clandestine romance, and little Millicent's +complicity in <a name='Page33' id="Page33"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>33</span>that romance, and John's sinister secrets, and +her own ineffectual repining—as she thought of these five +antagonistic preoccupied souls and their different affairs, the +pathos and the complexity of human things surged over her and +overwhelmed her.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page34' id="Page34"></a><span class='pagenum'>34</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II' id="CHAPTER_II"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>Meshach and Hannah</h3> +<p>The little old bachelor and spinster were resting after dinner +in the back-parlour of their house near the top of Church Street. +In that abode they had watched generations pass and manners change, +as one list hearthrug succeeded another in the back-parlour. +Meshach had been born in the front bedroom, and he meant to die +there; Hannah had also been born in the front bedroom, but it was +through the window of the back bedroom that the housewife's soul +would rejoin the infinite. The house, which Meshach's grandfather, +first of his line to emerge from the grey mass of the proletariat, +had ruined himself to build, was a six-roomed dwelling of honest +workmanship in red brick and tile, with a beautiful pillared +doorway and fanlight in the antique taste. It had cost two hundred +pounds, and was the monument of a life's ambition. Mortgaged by its +hard-pressed creator, and then sold by order of the mortgagee, it +had ultimately been bought <a name='Page35' id= +"Page35"></a><span class='pagenum'>35</span>again in triumph by +Meshach's father, who made thirty thousand pounds out of pots +without getting too big for it, and left it unspoilt to Meshach and +Hannah. Only one alteration had ever been made in it, and that, +completed on Meshach's fiftieth birthday, admirably exemplified his +temperament. Because he liked to observe the traffic in Church +Street, and liked equally to sit in the back-parlour near the hob, +he had, with an oriental grandeur of self-indulgence, removed the +dividing wall between the front and the back parlours and +substituted a glass partition: so that he could simultaneously warm +the fire and keep an eye on the street. The town said that no one +but Meshach could have hit on such a scheme, or would have carried +it out with such an object: it crowned his reputation.</p> +<p>John Stanway's maternal uncle was one of those individuals whose +character, at once strong, egotistic, and peculiar, so forcibly +impresses the community that by contrast ordinary persons seem to +be without character; such men are therefore called, distinctively, +'characters'; and it is a matter of common experience that, whether +through the unconscious prescience of parents or through that +felicitous sense of propriety which often guides the hazards of +destiny, they usually bear names to match their qualities. <a name= +'Page36' id="Page36"></a><span class='pagenum'>36</span>Meshach +Myatt! Meshach Myatt! What piquant curious syllables to roll glibly +off the tongue, and to repeat for the pleasure of repetition! And +what a vision of Meshach their utterance conjured up! At +sixty-four, stereotyped by age, fixed and confirmed in singularity, +Meshach's figure answered better than ever to his name. He was +slight of bone and spare in flesh, with a hardly perceptible stoop. +He had a red, seamed face. Under the small, pale blue eyes, genial +and yet frigid, there showed a thick, raw, red selvedge of skin, +and below that the skin was loose and baggy; the wrinkled eyelids, +instead of being shaped to the pupil, came down flat and +perpendicular. His nose and chin were witch-like, the nostrils +large and elastic; the lips, drawn tight together, curved +downwards, indifferently captious; a short white beard grew +sparsely on the chin; the skin of the narrow neck was fantastically +drawn and creased. His limbs were thin, the knees and elbows +sharpened to a fine point; the hands very long, with blue, corded +veins. As a rule his clothes were a distressing combination of +black and dark blue; either the coat, the waistcoat, or the +trousers would be black, the rest blue; the trousers had the +old-fashioned flap-pockets, like a sailor's, with a complex +apparatus of buttons. He wore loose white cuffs that were +continually <a name='Page37' id="Page37"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>37</span>slipping down the wrist, a starched dickey, a +collar of too lenient flexure, and a black necktie with a 'made' +bow that was fastened by means of a button and button-hole under +the chin to the right; twenty times a day Meshach had to secure +this precarious cravat. Lastly, the top and bottom buttons of his +waistcoat were invariably loose.</p> +<p>He was of that small and lonely minority of men who never know +ambition, ardour, zeal, yearning, tears; whose convenient desires +are capable of immediate satisfaction; of whom it may be said that +they purchase a second-rate happiness cheap at the price of an +incapacity for deep feeling. In his seventh decade, Meshach Myatt +could look back with calm satisfaction at a career of uninterrupted +nonchalance and idleness. The favourite of a stern father and of +fate, he had never done a hard day's work in his life. When he and +Hannah came into their inheritance, he realised everything except +the house and invested the proceeds in Consols. With a roof, four +hundred a year from the British Empire, a tame capable sister, and +notoriously good health, he took final leave of care at the age of +thirty-two. He wanted no more than he had. Leisure was his chief +luxury; he watched life between meals, and had time to think about +what he saw. Being gifted with a vigorous and original mind +<a name='Page38' id="Page38"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>38</span>that by instinct held formulas in defiance, he +soon developed a philosophy of his own; and his reputation as a +'character' sprang from the first diffident, wayward expressions of +this philosophy. Perceiving that the town not unadmiringly deemed +him odd, he cultivated oddity. Perceiving also that it was +sometimes astonished at the extent of his information about hidden +affairs, he cultivated mystery, the knowledge of other people's +business, and the trick of unexpected appearances. At forty his +fame was assured; at fifty he was an institution; at sixty an +oracle.</p> +<p>'Meshach's a mixture,' ran the local phrase; but in this mixture +there was a less tedious posturing and a more massive intellect +than usually go to the achievement of a provincial renown such as +Meshach's. The man's externals were deceptive, for he looked like a +local curiosity who might never have been out of Bursley. Meshach, +however, travelled sometimes in the British Isles, and thereby kept +his ideas from congealing. And those who had met him in trains and +hotels knew that porters, waiters, and drivers did not mistake his +shrewdness for that of a simpleton determined not to be robbed; +that he wanted the right things and had the art to get them; in +short, that he was an expert in travel. Like many old provincial +bachelors, while frugal <a name='Page39' id= +"Page39"></a><span class='pagenum'>39</span>at home he could be +profuse abroad, exercising the luxurious freedom of the bachelor. +In the course of years it grew slowly upon his fellow pew-holders +at the big Sytch Chapel that he was worldly-minded and possibly +contemptuous of their codes; some, who made a specialty of smelling +rats, accused him of gaiety.</p> +<p>'You'd happen better get something extra for tea, sister,' said +Meshach, rousing himself.</p> +<p>'Why, brother?' demanded Hannah.</p> +<p>'Some sausage, happen,' Meshach proceeded.</p> +<p>'Is any one coming?' she asked.</p> +<p>'Or a bit of fish,' said Meshach, gazing meditatively at the +fire.</p> +<p>Hannah rose and interrogated his face. 'You ought to have told +me before, brother. It's past three now, and Saturday afternoon +too!' So saying, she hurried anxiously into the kitchen and told +the servant to put her hat on.</p> +<p>'Who is it that's coming, brother?' she inquired later, with +timid, ravenous curiosity.</p> +<p>'I see you'll have it out of me,' said Meshach, who gave up +mysteries as a miser parts with gold. 'It's Arthur Twemlow from New +York; and let that stop your mouth.'</p> +<p>Thus, with the utterance of this name in the prim, archaic, +stuffy little back-parlour, Meshach raised the curtain on the last +act of a <a name='Page40' id="Page40"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>40</span>drama which had slumbered for fifteen years, +since the death of William Twemlow, and which the principal actors +in it had long thought to be concluded or suppressed.</p> +<p>The whole matter could be traced back, through a series of +situations which had developed one out of another, to the character +of old Twemlow; but the final romantic solution was only rendered +possible by the peculiarities of Meshach Myatt. William Twemlow had +been one of those men in whom an unbridled appetite for virtue +becomes a vice. He loved God with such virulence that he killed his +wife, drove his daughter into a fatuous marriage, and quarrelled +irrevocably with his son. The too sensitive wife died for lack of +joy; Alice escaped to Australia with a parson who never +accomplished anything but a large family; and Arthur, at the age of +seventeen, precociously cursed his father and sought in America a +land where there were fewer commandments. Then old Twemlow told his +junior partner, John Stanway, that the ways of Providence were past +finding out. Stanway sympathised with him, partly from motives of +diplomacy, and partly from a genuine misunderstanding of the case; +for Twemlow, mild, earnest, and a generous supporter of charities, +was much respected in the town, and his lonely predicament <a name= +'Page41' id="Page41"></a><span class='pagenum'>41</span>excited +compassion; most people looked upon young Arthur as a godless and +heartless vagabond.</p> +<p>Alice's husband was a fool, impulsive and vain; and, despite +introductions, no congregation in Australia could be persuaded to +listen to his version of the gospel; Alice gave birth to more +children than bad sermons could keep alive, and soon the old man at +Bursley was regularly sending remittances to her. Twemlow desired +fervently to do his duty, and moreover the estrangement from his +son increased his satisfaction in dealing handsomely with his +daughter; the son would doubtless learn from the daughter how much +he had lost by his impiety. Seven years elapsed so, and then the +parson gave up his holy calling and became a tea-blender in +Brisbane. Twemlow was shocked at this defection, which seemed to +him sacrilegious, and a chance phrase in a letter of Alice's +requesting capital for the new venture—a too assured demand, +an insufficient gratitude for past benefits, Alice never quite knew +what—brought about a second breach in the Twemlow family. The +paternal purse was closed, and perhaps not too early, for the +improvidence of the tea-blender and Alice's fecundity were a gulf +whose depth no munificence could have plumbed. Again John Stanway +sympathised with the now enfeebled old man. John advised him to +retire, <a name='Page42' id="Page42"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>42</span>and Twemlow decided to do so, receiving +one-third of the net profits of the partnership business during +life. In two years he was bedridden and the miserable victim of a +housekeeper; but, though both Alice and Arthur attempted +reconciliation, some fine point of conscience obliged him to ignore +their overtures. John Stanway, his last remaining friend, called +often and chatted about business, which he lamented was far from +being what it ought to be. Twemlow's death was hastened by a fire +at the works; it happened that he could see the flames from his +bedroom window; he survived the spectacle five days. Before +entering into his reward, the great pietist wrote letters of +forgiveness to Alice and Arthur, and made a will, of which John +Stanway was sole executor, in favour of Alice. The town expressed +surprise when it learnt that the estate was sworn at less than a +thousand pounds, for the dead man's share in the profits of Twemlow +& Stanway was no secret, and Stanway had been living in +splendour at Hillport for several years. John, when questioned by +gossips, referred sadly to Alice's husband and to the depredations +of housekeepers. In this manner the name and memory of the Twemlows +were apparently extinguished in Bursley.</p> +<p>But Meshach Myatt had witnessed the fire <a name='Page43' id= +"Page43"></a><span class='pagenum'>43</span>at the works; he had +even remained by the canal side all through that illuminated night; +and an adventure had occurred to him such as occurs only to the +Meshach Myatts of this world. The fire was threatening the office, +and Meshach saw his nephew John running to a place of refuge with a +drawer snatched out of an American desk; the drawer was loaded with +papers and books, and as John ran a small book fell unheeded to the +ground. Meshach cried out to John that he had dropped something, +but in the excitement and confusion of the fire his rather +high-pitched voice was not heard. He left the book lying where it +fell; half-an-hour afterwards he saw it again, picked it up, and +put it in his pocket. It contained some interesting informal +private memoranda of the annual profits of the firm. Now Meshach +did not return the book to its owner. He argued that John deserved +to suffer for his carelessness in losing it, that John ought to +have heard his call, and that anyhow John would surely inquire for +it and might then be allowed to receive it with a few remarks upon +the need of a calm demeanour at fires; but John never did inquire +for it.</p> +<p>When William Twemlow's will was proved a few weeks later, +Meshach Myatt made no comment whatever. From time to time he heard +<a name='Page44' id="Page44"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>44</span>news of Arthur Twemlow: that he had set up in +New York as an earthenware and glassware factor, that he was doing +well, that he was doing extremely well, that his buyer had come +over to visit the more aristocratic manufactories at Knype and +Cauldon, that some one from Bursley had met Arthur at the Leipzig +Easter Fair and reported him stout, taciturn, and Americanised. +Then, one morning in Lord Street, Liverpool, fifteen years after +the death of old Twemlow and the misappropriation of the little +book, Meshach encountered Arthur Twemlow himself; Meshach was +returning from his autumn holiday in the Isle of Man, and Arthur +had just landed from the 'Servia.' The two men were mutually +impressed by each other's skill in nicely conducting an interview +which ninety-nine people out of a hundred would have botched; for +they had last met as boy of seventeen and man of forty. They +lunched richly at the Adelphi, and gave news for news. Arthur's +buyer, it seemed, was dead, and after a day or two in London Arthur +was coming to the Five Towns to buy a little in person. Meshach +inquired about Alice in Australia, and was told that things were in +a specially bad way with the tea-blender. He said that you couldn't +cure a fool, and remarked casually upon the smallness of the amount +left by <a name='Page45' id="Page45"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>45</span>old Twemlow. Arthur, unaware that Meshach Myatt +was raising up an idea which for fifteen years had been buried but +never forgotten in his mind, answered with nonchalance that the +amount certainly was rather small. Arthur added that in his dying +letter of forgiveness to Alice the old man had stated that his +income from the works during the last years of his life had been +less than two hundred per annum. Meshach worked his shut thin lips +up and down and then began to discuss other matters. But as they +parted at Lime Street Station the observer of life said to Arthur +with presaging calm: 'You'll be i' th' Five Towns at the end of the +week. Come and have a cup o' tea with me and Hannah on Saturday +afternoon. The old spot, you know it, top of Church Street. I've +something to show you as 'll interest you.' There was a pause and +an interchange of glances. 'Right!' said Arthur Twemlow. 'Thank +you! I'll be there at a quarter after four or thereabouts.' 'It's +like as if what must be!' Meshach murmured to himself with almost +sad resignation, in the enigmatic idiom of the Five Towns. But he +was highly pleased that he, the first of all the townsfolk, should +have seen Arthur Twemlow after twenty-five years' absence.</p> +<p>When Hannah, in silk, met the most interest<a name='Page46' id= +"Page46"></a><span class='pagenum'>46</span>ing and disconcerting +American stranger in the lobby, the sound and the smell of Bursley +sausage frizzling in the kitchen added a warm finish to her +confused welcome. She remembered him perfectly, 'Eh! Mr. Arthur,' +she said, 'I remember you that <i>well</i>....' And that was all +she could say, except: 'Now take off your overcoat and do make +yourself at home, Mr. Arthur.'</p> +<p>'I guess I know <i>you</i>,' said Twemlow, touched by the +girlish shyness, the primeval innocence, and the passionate +hospitality of the little grey-haired thing.</p> +<p>As he took off his glossy blue overcoat and hung it up he seemed +to fill the narrow lobby with his large frame and his quiet but +penetrating attractive American accent. He probably weighed +fourteen stone, but the elegance of his suit and his boots, the +clean-shaven chin, the fineness of the lines of the nose, and the +alert eyes set back under the temples, redeemed him from grossness. +He looked under rather than over forty; his brown hair was +beginning to recede from the forehead, but the heavy moustache, +which entirely hid his mouth and was austerely trimmed at the +sides, might have aroused the envy of a colonel of hussars.</p> +<p>'Come in, wut,'<a name='FNanchor_1_1' id= +"FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href='#Footnote_1_1'><sup>[1]</sup></a> cried +Meshach impatiently <a name='Page47' id="Page47"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>47</span>from the hob, 'come in and let's be pecking a +bit,' and as Arthur and Hannah entered the parlour, he added: +'She's gotten sausages for you. She would get 'em, though I told +her you'd take us as you found us. I told her that. But +women—well, you know what they are!'</p> +<p class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_1_1' id="Footnote_1_1"></a> +<a href='#FNanchor_1_1'>[1]</a> <i>Wut</i> = wilt.</p> +<p>'Eh, Meshach, Meshach!' the old damsel protested sadly, and +escaped into the kitchen.</p> +<p>And when Meshach insisted that the guest should serve out the +sausages, and Hannah, passing his tea, said it was a shame to +trouble him, Twemlow slipped suddenly back into the old life and +ways and ideas. This existence, which he thought he had utterly +forgotten, returned again and triumphed for a time over all the +experiences of his manhood; it alone seemed real, honest, +defensible. Sensations of his long and restless career in New York +flashed through his mind as he impaled Hannah's sausages in the +curious parlour—the hysteric industry of his girl-typist, the +continuous hot-water service in the bedroom of his glittering +apartment at the Concord House, youthful nights at Coster and +Bial's music-hall, an insanely extravagant dinner at Sherry's on +his thirtieth birthday, a difficulty once with an emissary of +Pinkerton, the incredible plague of flies in summer. And during all +<a name='Page48' id="Page48"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>48</span>those racing years of clangour and success in +New York, the life of Bursley, self-sufficient and self-contained, +had preserved its monotonous and slow stolidity. Bursley had become +a museum to him; he entered it as he might have entered the Middle +Ages, and was astonished to find that beautiful which once he had +deemed sordid and commonplace. Some of the streets seemed like a +monument of the past, a picturesque survival; the crate-floats, +drawn by swift shaggy ponies and driven by men who balanced +themselves erect on two thin boards while flying round corners, +struck him as the quaintest thing in the world.</p> +<p>'And what's going on nowadays in old Bosley, Miss Myatt?' he +asked expansively, trying to drop his American accent and use the +dialect.</p> +<p>'Eh, bless us!' exclaimed Hannah, startled. 'Nothing ever +happens here, Mr. Arthur.'</p> +<p>He felt that nothing did happen there.</p> +<p>'Same here as elsewhere,' said Meshach. 'People living, and +getting childer to worry 'em, and dying. Nothing'll cure 'em of it +seemingly. Is there anything different to that in New York? Or can +they do without cemeteries?'</p> +<p>Twemlow laughed, and again he had the illusion of having come +back to reality after a <a name='Page49' id= +"Page49"></a><span class='pagenum'>49</span>long, hurried dream. +'Nothing seems to have changed here,' he remarked idly.</p> +<p>'Nothing changed!' said Meshach. 'Nay, nay! We're up in the +world. We've got the steam-car. And we've got public baths. We wash +oursen nowadays. And there's talk of a park, and a pond with a duck +on it. We're moving with the times, my lad, and so's the +rates.'</p> +<p>It gave him pleasure to be called 'my lad' by old Meshach. It +was piquant to him that the first earthenware factor in New York, +the Jupiter of a Fourteenth Street office, should be addressed as a +stripling. 'And where is the park to be?' he suavely inquired.</p> +<p>'Up by the railway station, opposite your father's old works as +was—it's a row of villas now.'</p> +<p>'Well,' said Twemlow. 'That sounds pretty nice. I believe I'll +get you to come around with me and show off the sights. Say!' he +added suddenly, 'do you remember being on that works one day when +my poor father was on to me like half a hundred of bricks, and you +said, "The boy's all right, Mr. Twemlow"? I've never forgotten +that. I've thought of it scores of times.'</p> +<p>'Nay!' Meshach answered carelessly, 'I remember nothing o' +that.'</p> +<p><a name='Page50' id="Page50"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>50</span>Twemlow was dashed by this oblivion. It was his +memory of the minute incident which more than anything else had +encouraged him to respond so cordially to Meshach's advances in +Liverpool; for he was by no means facile in social intercourse. And +Meshach had rudely forgotten the affecting scene! He felt +diminished, and saw in the old bachelor a personification of the +blunt independent spirit of the Five Towns.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'Milly's late to-day,' said Hannah to her brother, timorously +breaking the silence which ensued.</p> +<p>'Milly?' questioned Twemlow.</p> +<p>'Millicent her proper name is,' Hannah said quickly, 'but we +call her Milly. My nephew's youngest.'</p> +<p>'Yes, of course,' Twemlow commented, when the Myatt family-tree +had been sketched for him by the united effort of brother and +sister, 'I recollect now you told me in Liverpool that Mr. Stanway +was married. Who did he marry?'</p> +<p>Meshach Myatt pushed back his chair and stood up. 'John catched +on to Knight's daughter, the doctor at Turnhill,' he said, reaching +to a cigar-cabinet on the sideboard. 'Best thing he ever did in his +life. John's among the <a name='Page51' id= +"Page51"></a><span class='pagenum'>51</span>better end of folk now. +People said it were a come-down for her, but Leonora isn't the sort +that comes down. She's got blood in her. <i>That</i>!' He snapped +his fingers. 'She's a good bred 'un. Old Knight's father came from +up York way. Ah! She's a cut above Twemlow & Stanway, is +Leonora.'</p> +<p>Twemlow smiled at this persistence of respect for caste.</p> +<p>'Have a weed,' said Meshach, offering him a cigar. 'You'll find +it all right; it's a J.S. Murias. Yes,' he resumed, 'maybe you +don't remember old Knight's sister as had that far house up at +Hillport? When she died she left it to Leonora, and they've lived +there this dozen year and more.'</p> +<p>'Well, I guess she's got a handsome name to her,' Twemlow +remarked perfunctorily, rising and leaving Hannah alone at the +table.</p> +<p>'And she's the handsomest woman in the Five Towns: that I do +know,' said Meshach as, in the grand manner of a connoisseur, he +lighted his cigar. 'And her was forty, day afore yesterday,' he +added with caustic emphasis.</p> +<p>'Meshach!' cried Hannah, 'for shame of yourself!' Then she +turned to Twemlow smiling and blushing a little. 'Oughtn't he? Eh, +but Mrs. John's a great favourite of my brother's. <a name='Page52' +id="Page52"></a><span class='pagenum'>52</span>And I'm sure her +girls are very good and attentive. Not a day but one or another of +them calls to see me, not a day. Eh, if they missed a day I should +think the world was coming to an end. And I'm expecting Milly +to-day. What's made the dear child so late——'</p> +<p>'I will say this for John,' asserted Meshach, as though the +little housewife had not been speaking, 'I will say this for John,' +he repeated, settling himself by the hob. 'He knew how to pick up a +d——d fine woman.'</p> +<p>'Meshach!' Hannah expostulated again.</p> +<p>Something in the excellence of Meshach's cigars, in his way of +calling a woman fine, in the dry, aloof masculinity of his attitude +towards Hannah, gave Twemlow to reflect that in the fundamental +deeps of experience New York was perhaps not so far ahead of the +old Five Towns after all.</p> +<p>There was a fluttering in the lobby, and Millicent ran into the +parlour, hurriedly, negligently.</p> +<p>'I can't stay a minute, auntie,' the vivacious girl burst out in +the unmistakable accents of condescending pertness, and then she +caught sight of the well-dressed, good-looking man in the corner, +and her bearing changed as though by a conjuring trick. She flushed +sensitively, <a name='Page53' id="Page53"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>53</span>stroked her blue serge frock, composed her +immature features to the mask of the finished lady paying a call, +and summoned every faculty to aid her in looking her best. 'So this +chit is the daughter of our admired Leonora,' thought Twemlow.</p> +<p>'I suppose you don't remember old Mr. Twemlow, my dear?' said +Hannah after she had proudly introduced her niece.</p> +<p>'Oh, auntie! how silly you are! Of course I remember him quite +well. I really can't stay, auntie.'</p> +<p>'You'll stay and drink this cup of tea with me,' Hannah insisted +firmly, and Milly was obliged to submit. It was not often that the +old lady exercised authority; but on that afternoon the famous New +York visitor was just as much an audience for Hannah as for +Hannah's greatniece.</p> +<p>Twemlow could think of nothing to say to this pretty pouting +creature who had rushed in from a later world and dissipated the +atmosphere of mediævalism, and so he addressed himself to Meshach +upon the eternal subject of the staple trade. The women at the +table talked quietly but self-consciously, and Twemlow saw Milly +forced to taste parkin after three refusals. Even while still +masticating the viscid unripe parkin, <a name='Page54' id= +"Page54"></a><span class='pagenum'>54</span>Milly rose to depart. +She bent down and dutifully grazed with her lips the cheek of the +parkin-maker. 'Good-bye, auntie; good-bye, uncle.' And in an +elegant, mincing tone, 'Good afternoon, Mr. Twemlow.'</p> +<p>'I suppose you've just got to be on time at the next place?' he +said quizzically, smiling at her vivid youth in spite of himself. +'Something very important?'</p> +<p>'Oh, very important!' she laughed archly, reddening, and then +was gone; and Aunt Hannah followed her to the door.</p> +<p>'What th' old folks lose,' murmured Meshach, apparently to the +fire, as he put his half-consumed cigar into a meerschaum holder, +'goes to the profit of young Burgess, as is waiting outside the +Bank at top o' th' Square.'</p> +<p>'I see,' said Twemlow, and thought primly that in his day such +laxities were not permitted.</p> +<p>Hannah and the servant cleared the tea-table, and the two men +were left alone, each silently reducing an J.S. Murias to ashes. +Meshach seemed to grow smaller in his padded chair by the hob, to +become torpid, and to lose that keen sense of his own astuteness +which alone gave zest to his life. Arthur stared out of the window +at the confined backyard. The autumn dusk thickened.</p> +<p><a name='Page55' id="Page55"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>55</span>Suddenly Meshach sprang up and lighted the gas, +and as he adjusted the height of the flame, he remarked casually: +'So your sister Alice is as poorly off as ever?'</p> +<p>Twemlow assented with a nod. 'By the way,' he said, 'you told me +on Wednesday you had something interesting to show me.'</p> +<p>Meshach made no answer, but picked up the poker and struck +several times a large pewter platter on the mantelpiece.</p> +<p>'Do you want anything, brother?' said Hannah, hastening into the +room.</p> +<p>'Go up into my bedroom, sister, and in the left-hand pigeon-hole +in the bureau you'll see a little flat tissue-paper parcel. Bring +it me. It's marked J.S.'</p> +<p>'Yes, brother,' and she departed.</p> +<p>'You said as your father had told your sister as he never got no +more than two hundred a year from th' partnership after he +retired.'</p> +<p>'Yes,' Twemlow replied. 'That's what she wrote me. In fact she +sent me the old chap's letter to read. So I reckoned it cost him +most all he got to live.'</p> +<p>'Well,' the old man said, and Hannah returned with the parcel, +which he carefully unwrapped. 'That'll do, sister.' Hannah +disappeared. 'Sithee!' He mysteriously drew <a name='Page56' id= +"Page56"></a><span class='pagenum'>56</span>Arthur's attention to a +little green book whose cover still showed traces of mud and +water.</p> +<p>'And what's this?' Twemlow asked with assumed lightness.</p> +<p>Meshach gave him the history of his adventure at the fire, and +then laboriously displayed and expounded the contents of the book, +peering into the yellow pages through the steel-rimmed spectacles +which he had put on for the purpose.</p> +<p>'And you've kept it all this time?' said Twemlow.</p> +<p>'I've kept it,' answered the old man grimly, and Twemlow felt +that that was precisely what Meshach Myatt might have been expected +to do.</p> +<p>'See,' said Meshach, and their heads were close together,' +that's the year before your father's death—eight hundred and +ninety-two pounds. And year afore that—one thousand two +hundred and seven pounds. And year afore that—bless us! Have +I turned o'er two pages at once?' And so he continued.</p> +<p>Twemlow's heart began to beat heavily as Meshach's eyes met his. +He seemed to see his father as a pathetic cheated simpleton, and to +hear the innumerable children of his sister crying for food; he +remembered that in the old Bursley days he had always distrusted +John Stanway, that <a name='Page57' id="Page57"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>57</span>conceited fussy imposing young man of twenty-two +whom his father had taken into partnership and utterly believed in. +He forgot that he had hated his father, and his mind was obsessed +by a sentimental and pure passion for justice.</p> +<p>'Say! Mr. Myatt,' he exclaimed with sudden gruffness, 'do you +suggest that John Stanway didn't do my father right?'</p> +<p>'My lad, I'm doing no suggesting.... You can keep the book if +you've a mind to. I've said nothing to no one, and if I had not met +you in Liverpool, and you hadn't told me that your sister was +poorly off again, happen I should ha' been mum to my grave. But +that's how things turn out.'</p> +<p>'He's your own nephew, you know,' said Twemlow.</p> +<p>'Ay!' said the old man, 'I know that. What by that? Fair's +fair.'</p> +<p>Meshach's tone, frigidly jocular, almost frightened the +American.</p> +<p>'According to you,' said he, determined to put the thing into +words, 'your nephew robbed my father each year of sums varying from +one to three hundred pounds—that's what it comes to.'</p> +<p>'Nay, not according to me—according to that book, and what +your father told your sister Alice,' Meshach corrected.</p> +<p><a name='Page58' id="Page58"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>58</span>'But why should he do it? That's what I want to +know.'</p> +<p>'Look here,' said Meshach quietly, resuming his chair. 'John's +as good a man of business as you'd meet in a day's march. But never +sin' he handled money could he keep off stocks and shares. He +speculates, always has, always will. And now you know it—and +'tisn't everybody as does, either.'</p> +<p>'Then you think——'</p> +<p>'Nay, my lad, I don't,' said Meshach curtly.</p> +<p>'But what ought I to do?'</p> +<p>Meshach cackled in laughter. 'Ask your sister Alice,' he +replied, 'it's her as is interested, not you. You aren't in the +will.'</p> +<p>'But I don't want to ruin John Stanway,' Twemlow protested.</p> +<p>'Ruin John!' Meshach exclaimed, cackling again. 'Not you! We mun +have no scandals in th' family. But you can go and see him, +quiet-like, I reckon. Dost think as John'll be stuck fast for six +or seven hundred, or eight hundred? Not John! And happen a bit of +money'll come in handy to th' old parson tea-blender, by all +accounts.'</p> +<p>'Suppose my father—made some mistake—forgot?'</p> +<p><a name='Page59' id="Page59"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>59</span>'Ay!' said Meshach calmly. 'Suppose he did. And +suppose he didna'.'</p> +<p>'I believe I'll go and talk to Stanway,' said Twemlow, putting +the book in his pocket. 'Let me see. The works is down at +Shawport?'</p> +<p>'On th' cut,'<a name='FNanchor_2_2' id= +"FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href='#Footnote_2_2'><sup>[2]</sup></a> said +Meshach.</p> +<p class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_2_2' id= +"Footnote_2_2"></a><a href='#FNanchor_2_2'>[2]</a> Cut = canal.</p> +<p>'I can say Alice had asked me to look at the accounts. Oh! +Perhaps I can straighten it out neat——' He spoke +cheerfully, then stopped. 'But it's fifteen years ago!'</p> +<p>'Fifteen!' said Meshach with gravity.</p> +<p>'I'm d——d if I can make you out!' thought Twemlow as +he walked along King Street towards the steam-tram for Knype, where +he was staying at the Five Towns Hotel. Hannah had sped him, with +blushings, and rustlings of silk, from Meshach's door. 'I'm +d——d if I can make you out, Meshach.' He said it aloud. +And yet, so complex and self-contradictory is the mind's action +under certain circumstances, he could make out Meshach perfectly +well; he could discern clearly that Meshach had been actuated +partly by the love of chicane, partly by a quasi-infantile +curiosity to see what he should see, and partly by an almost +biblical sense of justice, a sense blind, callous, cruel.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page60' id="Page60"></a><span class='pagenum'>60</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III' id="CHAPTER_III"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>THE CALL</h3> +<p>It was the Trust Anniversary at the Sytch Chapel, and two +sermons were to be delivered by the Reverend Dr. Simon Quain; +during fifteen years none but he had preached the Trust sermons. +Even in the morning, when pillars of the church were often +disinclined to assume the attitude proper to pillars, the fane was +almost crowded. For it was impossible to ignore the Doctor. He was +an expert geologist, a renowned lecturer, the friend of men of +science and sometimes their foe, a contributor to the +'Encyclopædia Britannica,' and the author of a book of travel. He +did not belong to the school of divines who annihilated Huxley by +asking him, from the pulpit, to tell them, if protoplasm was the +origin of all life, what was the origin of protoplasm. Dr. Quain +was a man of genuine attainments, at which the highest criticism +could not sneer; and when he visited Bursley the facile agnostics +of the town, the young and experienced who <a name='Page61' id= +"Page61"></a><span class='pagenum'>61</span>knew more than their +elders, were forced to take cover. Dr. Quain, whose learning +exceeded even theirs—so the elders sarcastically ventured to +surmise—was not ashamed to believe in the inspiration of the +Old Testament; he could reconcile the chronology of the earth's +crust with the first chapter of Genesis; he had a satisfactory +explanation of the Johannine gospel; and his mere existence was an +impregnable fortress from which the adherents of the banner of +belief could not be dislodged. On this Sunday morning he offered a +simple evangelical discourse, enhanced by those occasional +references to palæozoic and post-tertiary periods which were +expected from him, and which he had enough of the wisdom of the +serpent to supply. His grave and assured utterances banished all +doubts, fears, misgivings, apprehensions; and the timid waverers +smiled their relief at being freed, by the confidence of this +illustrious authority, from the distasteful exertion of thinking +for themselves.</p> +<p>The collection was immense, and, in addition to being immense, +it provided for the worshippers an agreeable and legitimate +excitement of curiosity; for the plate usually entrusted to Meshach +Myatt was passed from pew to pew, and afterwards carried to the +communion rails, by a complete stranger, a man extremely +self-possessed <a name='Page62' id="Page62"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>62</span>and well-attired, with a heavy moustache, a +curious dimple in his chin, and melancholy eyes, a man obviously of +considerable importance somewhere. 'Oh, mamma,' whispered Milly to +her mother, who was alone with her in the Stanway pew, 'do look; +that's Mr. Twemlow.' Several men in the congregation knew his +identity, and one, a commercial traveller, had met him in New York. +Before the final hymn was given out, half the chapel had pronounced +his name in surprise. His overt act of assisting in the offertory +was favourably regarded; it was thought to show a nice social +feeling on his part; and he did it with such distinction! The older +people remembered that his father had always been a collector; they +were constrained now to readjust their ideas concerning the son, +and these ideas, rooted in the single phrase, <i>ran away from +home</i>, and set fast by time, were difficult of adjustment. The +impressiveness of Dr. Quain's sermon was impaired by this diversion +of interest.</p> +<p>The members of the Stanway family, in order to avoid the crush +in the aisles and portico, always remained in their pew after +service, until the chapel had nearly emptied itself; and to-day +Leonora chose to sit longer than usual. John had been too fatigued +to rise for breakfast; Rose <a name='Page63' id= +"Page63"></a><span class='pagenum'>63</span>was struck down by a +sick headache; and Ethel had stayed at home to nurse Rose, so far +as Rose would allow herself to be nursed. Leonora felt no desire to +hurry back to the somewhat perilous atmosphere of Sunday dinner, +and moreover she shrank nervously from the possibility of having to +make the acquaintance of Mr. Twemlow. But when she and Milly at +length reached the outer vestibule, a concourse of people still +lingered there, and among them Arthur was just bidding good-bye to +the Myatts. Hannah, rather shortsighted, did not observe Leonora +and Milly; Meshach gave them his curt quizzical nod, and the aged +twain departed. Then Millicent, proud of her acquaintance with the +important stranger, and burning to be seen in converse with him, +left her mother's side and became an independent member of +society.</p> +<p>'How do you do, Mr. Twemlow?' she chirped.</p> +<p>'Ah!' he replied, recognising her with a bow the sufficiency of +which intoxicated the young girl. 'Not in such a hurry this +morning?'</p> +<p>'Oh! no!' she agreed with smiling effusion, and they both +glanced with furtive embarrassed swiftness at Leonora. 'Mamma, this +is Mr. Twemlow. Mr. Twemlow my mother.' The dashing modish air of +the child was adorable. <a name='Page64' id= +"Page64"></a><span class='pagenum'>64</span>Having concluded her +scene she retired from the centre of the stage in a glow.</p> +<p>Arthur Twemlow's manner altered at once as he took Leonora's +hand and saw the sudden generous miracle which happened in her calm +face when she smiled. He was impressed by her beautiful maturity, +by the elegance born of a restrained but powerful instinct +transmitted to her through generations of ancestors. His respect +for Meshach rose higher. And she, as she faced the self-possessed +admiration in Arthur's eyes, was conscious of her finished beauty, +even of the piquancy of the angle of her hat, and the smooth +immaculate whiteness of her gloves; and she was proud, too, of +Millicent's gracile, restless charm. They walked down the steps +side by side, Leonora in the middle, watched curiously from above +and below by little knots of people who still lingered in front of +the chapel.</p> +<p>'You soon got to work here, Mr. Twemlow,' said Leonora +lightly.</p> +<p>He laughed. 'I guess you mean that collecting box. That was Mr. +Myatt's game. He didn't do me right, you know. He got me into his +pew, and then put the plate on to me.'</p> +<p>Leonora liked his Americanism of accent and phrase; it seemed +romantic to her; it seemed to signify the quick alertness, the +vivacious and <a name='Page65' id="Page65"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>65</span>surprising turns, of existence in New York, +where the unexpected and the extraordinary gave a zest to every +day.</p> +<p>'Well, you collected perfectly,' she remarked.</p> +<p>'Oh, yes you did, really, Mr. Twemlow,' echoed Millicent.</p> +<p>'Did I?' he said, accepting the tribute with frank satisfaction. +'I used to collect once at Talmage's Church in +Brooklyn—you've heard Talmage over here of course.' He +faintly indicated contempt for Talmage. 'And after my first +collection he sent for me into the church parlour, and he said to +me: "Mr. Twemlow, next time you collect, put some snap into it; +don't go shuffling along as if you were dead." So you see this +morning, although I haven't collected for years, I thought of that +and tried to put some snap into it.'</p> +<p>Milly laughed obstreperously, Leonora smiled.</p> +<p>At the corner they could see Mrs. Burgess's carriage waiting at +the vestry door in Mount Street. The geologist, escorted by Harry +Burgess, got into the carriage, where Mrs. Burgess already sat; +Harry followed him, and the stately equipage drove off. Dr. Quain +had married a cousin of Mrs. Burgess's late husband, and he +invariably stayed at her house. All this had to be explained to +Arthur Twemlow, who made a <a name='Page66' id= +"Page66"></a><span class='pagenum'>66</span>point of being curious. +By the time they had reached the top of Oldcastle Street, Leonora +felt an impulse to ask him without ceremony to walk up to Hillport +and have dinner with them. She knew that she and Milly were +pleasing him, and this assurance flattered her. But she could not +summon the enterprise necessary for such an unusual invitation; her +lips would not utter the words, she could not force them to utter +the words.</p> +<p>He hesitated, as if to leave them; and quite automatically, +without being able to do otherwise, Leonora held her hand to bid +good-bye; he took it with reluctance. The moment was passing, and +she had not even asked him where he was staying: she had learnt +nothing of the man of whom Meshach had warned her husband to +beware.</p> +<p>'Good morning,' he said, 'I'm very glad to have met you. +Perhaps——'</p> +<p>'Won't you come and see us this afternoon, if you aren't +engaged?' she suggested quickly. 'My husband will be anxious to +meet you, I know.'</p> +<p>He appeared to vacillate.</p> +<p>'Oh, do, Mr. Twemlow!' urged Milly, enchanted.</p> +<p>'It's very good of you,' he said, 'I shall be <a name='Page67' +id="Page67"></a><span class='pagenum'>67</span>delighted to call. +It's quite a considerable time since I saw Mr. Stanway.' He +laughed. This was his first reference to John.</p> +<p>'I'm so glad you asked him, ma,' said Milly, as they walked down +Oldcastle Street.</p> +<p>'Your father said we must be polite to Mr. Twemlow,' her mother +replied coldly.</p> +<p>'He's frightfully rich, I'm sure,' Milly observed.</p> +<p>At dinner Leonora told John that Arthur Twemlow was coming.</p> +<p>'Oh, good!' he said: nothing more.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>In the afternoon the mother and her eldest and youngest, supine +and exanimate in the drawing-room, were surprised into expectancy +by the sound of the front-door bell before three o'clock.</p> +<p>'He's here!' exclaimed Milly, who was sitting near Leonora on +the long Chesterfield. Ethel, her face flushed by the fire, lay +like a curving wisp of straw in John's vast arm-chair. Leonora was +reading; she put down the magazine and glanced briefly at Ethel, +then at the aspect of the room. In silence she wished that Ethel's +characteristic attitudes could be a little more demure and +sophisticated. She wondered how often this apparently artless girl +had surrepti<a name='Page68' id="Page68"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>68</span>tiously seen Fred Ryley since the midnight +meeting on Thursday, and she was amazed that a child of hers, so +kindly disposed, could be so naughty and deceitful. The door opened +and Ethel sat up with a bound.</p> +<p>'Mr. Burgess,' the parlourmaid announced. The three women sank +back, disappointed and yet relieved.</p> +<p>Harry Burgess, though barely of age, was one of the acknowledged +dandies of Hillport. Slim and fair, with a frank, rather simple +countenance, he supported his stylistic apparel with a natural +grace that attracted sympathy. Just at present he was achieving a +spirited effect by always wearing an austere black necktie fastened +with a small gold safety-pin; he wore this necktie for weeks to a +bewildering variety of suits, and then plunged into a wild +polychromatic debauch of neckties. Upon all the niceties of +masculine dress, the details of costume proper to a particular form +of industry or recreation or ceremonial, he was a genuine +authority. His cricketing flannels—he was a fine cricketer +and lawn-tennis player of the sinuous oriental sort—were the +despair of other dandies and the scorn of the sloven; he caused the +material, before it was made up, to be boiled for many hours by the +Burgess charwoman under his own superintendence. He had +extra<a name='Page69' id="Page69"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>69</span>ordinary aptitudes for drawing corks, lacing +boots, putting ferrules on walking-sticks, opening latched windows +from the outside, and rolling cigarettes; he could make a cigarette +with one hand, and not another man in the Five Towns, it was said, +could do that. His slender convex silver cigarette-case invariably +contained the only cigarettes worthy of the palate of a +connoisseur, as his pipes were invariably the only pipes fit for +the combustion of truly high-class tobacco. Old women, especially +charwomen, adored him, and even municipal seigniors admitted that +Harry was a smart-looking youth. Fatherless, he was the heir to a +tolerable fortune, the bulk of which, during his mother's life, he +could not touch save with her consent; but his mother and his +sister seemed to exist chiefly for his convenience. His fair hair +and his facile smile vanquished them, and vanquished most other +people also; and already, when he happened to be crossed, there +would appear on his winning face the pouting, hard, resentful lines +of the man who has learnt to accept compliance as a right. He had +small intellectual power, and no ambition at all. A considerable +part of his prospective fortune was invested in the admirable +shares of the Birmingham, Sheffield and District Bank, and it +pleased him to sit on a stool in the Bursley branch of this +<a name='Page70' id="Page70"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>70</span>bank, since he wanted, <i>pro tempore</i>, a +dignified avocation without either the anxieties of trade or the +competitive tests of a profession. He was a beautiful bank clerk; +but he had once thrown a bundle of cheques into the office fire +while aiming at a basket on the mantelpiece; the whole banking +world would have been agitated and disorganised had not another +clerk snatched the bundle from peril at the expense of his own +fingers: the incident, still legendary behind the counter of the +establishment at the top of St. Luke's Square, kept Harry awake to +the seriousness of life for several weeks.</p> +<p>'Well, Harry,' said Leonora with languid good nature. He paid +his homage in form to the mistress of the house; raised his +eyebrows at Milly, who returned the gesture; smiled upon Ethel, who +feebly waved a hand as if too exhausted to do more; and then sat +down on the piano-stool, carefully easing the strain on his +trousers at the knees and exposing an inch of fine wool socks above +his American boots. He was a familiar of the house, and had had the +unconditional <i>entrée</i> since he and the Stanway girls +first went to the High Schools at Oldcastle.</p> +<p>'I hope I haven't disturbed your beauty sleep—any of you,' +was his opening remark.</p> +<p>'Yes, you have,' said Ethel.</p> +<p><a name='Page71' id="Page71"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>71</span>He continued: 'I just came in to seek a little +temporary relief from the excellent Quain. Quain at breakfast, +Quain at chapel, Quain at dinner.... I got him to slumber on one +side of the hearth and mother on the other, and then I slipped away +in case they awoke. If they do, I've told Cissie to say that I've +gone out to take a tract to a sick friend—back in five +minutes.'</p> +<p>'Oh, Harry, you are silly!' Millicent laughed. Every one, +including the narrator, was amused by this elaborate fiction of the +managing of those two impressive persons, Mrs. Burgess and the +venerable Christian geologist, by a kind, indulgent, bored Harry. +Leonora, who had resumed her magazine, looked up and smiled the +guarded smile of the mother.</p> +<p>'I'm afraid you're getting worse,' she murmured, and his candid +seductive face told her that while he was on no account not to be +regarded as a gay dog, and a sad dog, and a worldly dog, yet +nevertheless he and she thoroughly appreciated and understood each +other. She did indeed like him, and she found pleasure in his +presence; he gratified the eye.</p> +<p>'I wish you'd sing something, Milly,' he began again after a +pause.</p> +<p>'No,' said Milly, 'I'm not going to sing now.'</p> +<p><a name='Page72' id="Page72"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>72</span>'But do. Can't she, Mrs. Stanway?'</p> +<p>'Well, what do you want me to sing?'</p> +<p>'Sing "Love is a plaintive song," out of the second act.'</p> +<p>Harry was the newly appointed secretary of the Bursley Amateur +Operatic Society, of which both Ethel and Millicent were members. +In a few weeks' time the Society was to render <i>Patience</i> in +the Town Hall for the benefit of local charities, and rehearsals +were occurring frequently.</p> +<p>'Oh! I'm not Patience,' Milly objected stiffly; she was only +Ella. 'Besides, I mayn't, may I, mamma?'</p> +<p>'Your father might not like it,' said Leonora.</p> +<p>'The dad has taken Bran out for a walk, so it won't trouble +him,' Ethel interjected sleepily under her breath.</p> +<p>'Well, but look here, Mrs. Stanway,' said Harry conclusively, +'the organist at the Wesleyan chapel actually plays the sextet from +<i>Patience</i> for a voluntary. What about that? If there's no +harm in that——' Leonora surrendered. 'Come on, Mill,' +he commanded. 'I shall have to return to my muttons directly,' and +he opened the piano.</p> +<p>'But I tell you I'm not Patience.'</p> +<p>'Come <i>on</i>! You know the music all right. <a name='Page73' +id="Page73"></a><span class='pagenum'>73</span>Then we'll try +Ella's bit in the first act. I'll play.'</p> +<p>Millicent arose, shook her hair, and walked to the piano with +the mien of a prima donna who has the capitals of Europe at her +feet, exultant in her youth, her charm, her voice, revelling +unconsciously in the vivacity of her blood, and consciously in her +power over Harry, which Harry strove in vain to conceal under an +assumed equanimity.</p> +<p>And as Millicent sang the ballad Leonora was beguiled, by her +singing, into a mood of vague but overpowering melancholy. It +seemed tragic that that fresh and pure voice, that innocent vanity, +and that untested self-confidence should change and fade as +maturity succeeded adolescence and decay succeeded maturity; it +seemed intolerable that the ineffable charm of the girl's youth +must be slowly filched away by the thefts of time. 'I was like that +once! And Jack too!' she thought, as she gazed absently at the pair +in front of the piano. And it appeared incredible to her that she +was the mother of that tall womanly creature, that the little +morsel of a child which she had borne one night had become a +daughter of Eve, with a magic to mesmerise errant glances and +desires. She had a glimpse of the significance of Nature's eternal +iterance. Then her mood developed a bitterness against Millicent. +<a name='Page74' id="Page74"></a><span class='pagenum'>74</span>She +thought cruelly that Millicent's magic was no part of the girl's +soul, no talent acquired by loving exertion, but something +extrinsic, unavoidable, and unmeritorious. Why was it so? Why +should fate treat Milly like a godchild? Why should she have +prettiness, and adorableness, and the lyric gift, and such +abounding confident youth? Why should circumstances fall out so +that she could meet her unacknowledged lover openly at all seasons? +Leonora's eyes wandered to the figure of Ethel reclining with shut +eyes in the arm-chair. Ethel in her graver and more diffident +beauty had already begun to taste the sadness of the world. Ethel +might not stand victoriously by her lover in the midst of the +drawing-room, nor joyously flip his ear when he struck a wrong note +on the piano. Ethel, far more passionate than the active Milly, +could only dream of her lover, and see him by stealth. Leonora +grieved for Ethel, and envied her too, for her dreams, and for her +solitude assuaged by clandestine trysts. Those trysts lay heavy on +Leonora's mind; although she had discovered them, she had done +nothing to prevent them; from day to day she had put off the +definite parental act of censure and interdiction. She was appalled +by the serene duplicity of her girls. Yet what could she say? Words +were so trivial, <a name='Page75' id="Page75"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>75</span>so conventional. And though she objected to the +match, wishing with ardour that Ethel might marry far more +brilliantly, she believed as fully in the honest warm kindliness of +Fred Ryley as in that of Ethel. 'And what else matters after all?' +she tried to think.... Her reverie shifted to Rose, unfortunate +Rose, victim of peculiar ambitions, of a weak digestion, and of a +harsh temperament that repelled the sympathy it craved but was too +proud to invite. She felt that she ought to go upstairs and talk to +the prostrate Rose in the curt matter-of-fact tone that Rose +ostensibly preferred, but she did not wish to talk to Rose. 'Ah +well!' she reflected finally with an inward sigh, as though to +whisper the last word and free herself of this preoccupation, 'they +will all be as old as me one day.'</p> +<p>'Mr. Twemlow,' said the parlourmaid.</p> +<p>Milly deliberately lengthened a high full note and then stopped +and turned towards the door.</p> +<p>'Bravo!' Arthur Twemlow answered at once the challenge of her +whole figure; but he seemed to ignore the fact that he had caused +an interruption, and there was something in his voice that piqued +the cantatrice, something that sent her back to the days of short +frocks. She glanced nervously aside at Harry, who had struck a few +notes and then dropped his hands from the key<a name='Page76' id= +"Page76"></a><span class='pagenum'>76</span>board. Twemlow's +demeanour towards the blushing Ethel when Leonora brought her +forward was much more decorous and simple. As for Harry, to whom +his arrival was a surprise, at first rather annoying, Twemlow +treated the young buck as one man of the world should treat +another, and Harry's private verdict upon him was extremely +favourable. Nevertheless Leonora noticed that the three young ones +seemed now to shrink into themselves, to become passive instead of +active, and by a common instinct to assume the character of mere +spectators.</p> +<p>'May I choose this place?' said Twemlow, and sat down by Leonora +in the other corner of the Chesterfield and looked round. She could +see that he was admiring the spacious room and herself in her +beautiful afternoon dress, and the pensive and the sprightly +comeliness of her daughters. His wandering eyes returned to hers, +and their appreciation pleased her and increased her charm.</p> +<p>'I am expecting my husband every minute,' she said.</p> +<p>'Papa's gone out for a walk with Bran,' Milly added.</p> +<p>'Oh! Bran!' He repeated the word in a voice that humorously +appealed for further elucidation, and both Ethel and Harry +laughed.</p> +<p><a name='Page77' id="Page77"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>77</span>'The St. Bernard, you know,' Milly explained, +annoyed.</p> +<p>'I wouldn't be surprised if that was a St. Bernard out there,' +he said pointing to the French window. 'What a fine fellow! And +what a fine garden!'</p> +<p>Bran was to be seen nosing low down at the window; and +alternately lifting two huge white paws in his futile anxiety to +enter the room.</p> +<p>'Then I dare say John is in the garden,' Leonora exclaimed, with +sudden animation, glad to be able to dismiss the faint uneasy +suspicion which had begun to form in her mind that John meant after +all to avoid Arthur Twemlow. 'Would you like to look at the +garden?' she demanded, half rising, and lifting her brows to a +pretty invitation.</p> +<p>'Very much indeed,' he replied, and he jumped up with the +impulsiveness of a boy.</p> +<p>'It's quite warm,' she said, and thanked Harry for opening the +window for them.</p> +<p>'A fine severe garden!' he remarked enthusiastically outside, +after he had descanted to Bran on Bran's amazing perfections, and +the dog had greeted his mistress. 'A fine severe garden!' he +repeated.</p> +<p>'Yes,' she said, lifting her skirt to cross the lawn. 'I know +what you mean. I wouldn't <a name='Page78' id= +"Page78"></a><span class='pagenum'>78</span>have it altered for +anything, but many people think it's too formal. My husband +does.'</p> +<p>'Why! It's just English. And that old wall! and the yew trees! I +tell you——'</p> +<p>She expanded once more to his appreciation, which she took to +herself; for none but she, and the gardener who was also the groom, +and worked under her, was responsible for the garden. But as she +displayed the African marigolds and the late roses and the hardy +outdoor chrysanthemums, and as she patted Bran, who dawdled under +her hand, she looked furtively about for John. She hoped he might +be at the stables, and when in their tour of the grounds they +reached the stables and he was not there, she hoped they would find +him in the drawing-room on their return. Her suspicion reasserted +itself, and it was strengthened, against her reason, by the fact +that Arthur Twemlow made no comment on John's invisibility. In the +dusk of the spruce stable, where an enamelled name-plate over the +manger of a loose box announced that 'Prince' was its pampered +tenant, she opened the cornbin, and, entering the loose-box, +offered the cob a handful of crushed oats. And when she stood by +the cob, Twemlow looking through the grill of the door at this +picture which suggested a beast-tamer in the cage, she was aware of +her <a name='Page79' id="Page79"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>79</span>beauty and the beauty of the animal as he curved +his neck to her jewelled hand, and of the ravishing effect of an +elegant woman seen in a stable. She smiled proudly and yet sadly at +Twemlow, who was pulling his heavy moustache. Then they could hear +an ungoverned burst of Milly's light laughter from the +drawing-room, and presently Milly resumed her interrupted song. +Opposite the outer door of the stable was the window of the +kitchen, whence issued, like an undertone to the song, the subdued +rattle of cups and saucers; and the glow of the kitchen fire could +be distinguished. And over all this complex domestic organism, +attractive and efficient in its every manifestation, and vigorously +alive now in the smooth calm of the English Sunday, she was queen; +and hers was the brain that ruled it while feigning an aloof +quiescence. 'He is a romantic man; he understands all that,' she +felt with the certainty of intuition. Aloud she said she must +fasten up the dog.</p> +<p>When they returned to the drawing-room there was no sign of +John.</p> +<p>'Hasn't your father come in?' she asked Ethel in a low voice; +Milly was still singing.</p> +<p>'No, mother, I thought he was with you in the garden.' The girl +seemed to respond to Leonora's inquietude.</p> +<p><a name='Page80' id="Page80"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>80</span>Milly finished her song, and Twemlow, who had +stationed himself behind her to look at the music, nodded an +austere approval.</p> +<p>'You have an excellent voice,' he remarked, 'and you can use +it.' To Leonora this judgment seemed weighty and decisive.</p> +<p>'Mr. Twemlow,' said the girl, smiling her satisfaction, 'excuse +me asking, but are you married?'</p> +<p>'No,' he answered, 'are you?'</p> +<p>'<i>Mr.</i> Twemlow!' she giggled, and turning to Ethel, who in +anticipation blushed once again: 'There! I told you.'</p> +<p>'You girls are very curious,' Leonora said perfunctorily.</p> +<p>Bessy came in and set a Moorish stool before the Chesterfield, +on the stool an inlaid Sheraton tray with china and a copper kettle +droning over a lamp, and near it a cakestand in three storeys. And +Leonora, manoeuvring her bangles, commenced the ritual of refection +with Harry as acolyte. 'If he doesn't come—well, he doesn't +come,' she thought of her husband, as she smiled interrogatively at +Arthur Twemlow, holding a lump of sugar aloft in the tongs.</p> +<p>'The Reverend Simon Quain asked who you were, at dinner to-day,' +said Harry. During the absence of Leonora and her guest, Harry +<a name='Page81' id="Page81"></a><span class='pagenum'>81</span>had +evidently acquired information concerning Arthur.</p> +<p>'Oh, Mr. Twemlow!' Milly appealed quickly, 'do tell Harry and +Ethel what Dr. Talmage said to you. I think it's so funny—I +can't do the accent.'</p> +<p>'What accent?' he laughed.</p> +<p>She hesitated, caught. 'Yours,' she replied boldly.</p> +<p>'Very amusing!' Harry said judicially, after the episode of the +Brooklyn collection had been related. 'Talmage must be a +caution.... I suppose you're staying at the Five Towns Hotel?' he +inquired, with an implication in his voice that there was no other +hotel in the district fit for the patronage of a man of the world. +Twemlow nodded.</p> +<p>'What! At Knype?' Leonora exclaimed. 'Then where did you dine +to-day?'</p> +<p>'I had dinner at the Tiger, and not a bad dinner either,' he +said.</p> +<p>'Oh dear!' Harry murmured, indicating an august sympathy for +Arthur Twemlow in affliction.</p> +<p>'If I had only known—I don't know what I was thinking of +not to ask you to come here for dinner,' said Leonora. 'I made sure +you would be engaged somewhere.'</p> +<p><a name='Page82' id="Page82"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>82</span>'Fancy you eating all alone at the Tiger, on +Sunday too!' remarked Milly.</p> +<p>'Tut! tut!' Twemlow protested, with a farcical exactness of +pronunciation; and Ethel laughed.</p> +<p>'What are you laughing at, my dear?' Leonora asked mildly.</p> +<p>'I don't know, mother—really I don't.' Whereupon they all +laughed together and a state of absolute intimacy was +established.</p> +<p>'I hadn't the least notion of being at Bursley to-day,' Twemlow +explained. 'But I thought that Knype wasn't much of a place—I +always did think that, being a native of Bursley. I wouldn't be +surprised if you've noticed, Mrs. Stanway, how all the five Five +Towns kind of sit and sniff at each other. Well, I felt dull after +breakfast, and when I saw the advertisement of Dr. Quain at the old +chapel, I came right away. And that's all, except that I'm going to +sup with a man at Knype to-night.'</p> +<p>There were sounds in the hall, and the door of the drawing-room +opened; but it was only Bessie coming to light the gas.</p> +<p>'Is that your master just come in?' Leonora asked her.</p> +<p>'Yes, ma'am.'</p> +<p>'At last,' said Leonora, and they waited. <a name='Page83' id= +"Page83"></a><span class='pagenum'>83</span>With noiseless +precision Bessie lit the gas, made the fire, drew the curtains, and +departed. Then they could hear John's heavy footsteps overhead.</p> +<p>Leonora began nervously to talk about Rose, and Twemlow showed a +polite interest in Rose's private trials; Ethel said that she had +just visited the patient, who slept. Harry asseverated that to +remain a moment longer away from his mother's house would mean +utter ruin for him, and with extraordinary suddenness he made his +adieux and went, followed to the front door by Millicent. The +conversation in the room dwindled to disconnected remarks, and was +kept alive by a series of separate little efforts. Footsteps were +no longer audible overhead. The clock on the mantelpiece struck +five, emphasising a silence, and amid growing constraint several +minutes passed. Leonora wanted to suggest that John, having lost +the dog, must have been delayed by looking for him, but she felt +that she could not infuse sufficient conviction into the remark, +and so said nothing. A thousand fears and misgivings took +possession of her, and, not for the first time, she seemed to +discern in the gloom of the future some great catastrophe which +would swallow up all that was precious to her.</p> +<p>At length John came in, hurried, fidgetty, nervous, and Ethel +slipped out of the room.</p> +<p><a name='Page84' id="Page84"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>84</span>'Ah! Twemlow!' he broke forth, 'how d'ye do? How +d'ye do? Glad to see you. Hadn't given me up, had you? How d'ye +do?'</p> +<p>'Not quite,' said Twemlow gravely as they shook hands.</p> +<p>Leonora took the water-jug from the tray and went to a +chrysanthemum in the farthest corner of the room, where she +remained listening, and pretending to be busy with the plant. The +men talked freely but vapidly with the most careful politeness, and +it seemed to her that Twemlow was annoyed, while Stanway was +determined to offer no explanation of his absence from tea. Once, +in a pause, John turned to Leonora and said that he had been +upstairs to see Rose. Leonora was surprised at the change in +Twemlow's demeanour. It was as though the pair were fighting a duel +and Twemlow wore a coat of mail. 'And these two have not seen each +other for twenty-five years!' she thought. 'And they talk like +this!' She knew then that something lay between them; she could +tell from a peculiar well-known look in her husband's eyes.</p> +<p>When she summoned decision to approach them where they stood +side by side on the hearthrug, both tall, big, formal, and +preoccupied, Twemlow at once said that unfortunately he must +<a name='Page85' id="Page85"></a><span class='pagenum'>85</span>go; +Stanway made none but the merest perfunctory attempt to detain him. +He thanked Leonora stiffly for her hospitality, and said good-bye +with scarcely a smile. But as John opened the door for him to pass +out, he turned to glance at her, and smiled brightly, kindly, +bowing a final adieu, to which she responded. She who never in her +life till then had condescended to such a device softly stepped to +the unlatched door and listened.</p> +<p>'This one yours?' she heard John say, and then the sound of a +hat bouncing on the tiled floor.</p> +<p>'My fault entirely,' said Twemlow's voice. 'By the way, I guess +I can see you at your office one day soon?'</p> +<p>'Yes, certainly,' John answered with false glib lightness. 'What +about? Some business?'</p> +<p>'Well, yes—business,' drawled Twemlow.</p> +<p>They walked away towards the outer hall, and she heard no more, +except the indistinct murmur of a sudden brief dialogue between the +visitor and the two girls, who must have come in from the garden. +Then the front door banged heavily. He was gone. The vast and arid +tedium of her life closed in upon her again; she seemed to exist in +a colourless void peopled only by ominous dim elusive shapes of +disaster.</p> +<p><a name='Page86' id="Page86"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>86</span>But as involuntarily she clenched her hands the +formidable thought swept through her brain that Arthur Twemlow was +not so calm, nor so impassive, nor so set apart, but that her spell +over him, if she chose to exert it, might be a shield to the +devious man her husband.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page87' id="Page87"></a><span class='pagenum'>87</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV' id="CHAPTER_IV"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>AN INTIMACY</h3> +<p>'Does father really mean it about me going to the works +to-morrow?' Ethel asked that night.</p> +<p>'I suppose so, my dear,' replied Leonora, and she added: 'You +must do all you can to help him.'</p> +<p>Ethel's clear gift of interpreting even the most delicate +modulations in her mother's voice, instantly gave her the first +faint sense of alarm.</p> +<p>'Why, mamma! what do you mean?'</p> +<p>'What I say, dear,' Leonora murmured with neutral calm. 'You +must do all you can to help him. We look on you as a woman +now.'</p> +<p>'You don't, you don't!' Ethel thought passionately as she went +upstairs. 'And you never will. Never!'</p> +<p>The profound instinctive sympathy which existed between her +mother and herself was continually being disturbed by the manifest +insincerity of that assertion contained in Leonora's last sentence. +The girl was in arms, without knowing <a name='Page88' id= +"Page88"></a><span class='pagenum'>88</span>it, against a whole +order of things. She could scarcely speak to Millicent in the +bedroom. She was disgusted with her father, and she was disgusted +with Leonora for pretending that her father was sagacious and +benevolent, for not admitting that he was merely a trial to be +endured. She was disgusted with Fred Ryley because he was not as +other young men were—Harry Burgess for instance. The +startling hint from Leonora that perhaps all was not well at the +works exasperated her. She held the works in abhorrence. With her +sisters, she had always regarded the works as a vague something +which John Stanway went to and came away from, as the mysterious +source of food, raiment, warmth. But she was utterly ignorant of +its mechanism, and she wished to remain ignorant. That its +mechanism should be in danger of breaking down, that it should even +creak, was to her at first less a disaster than a matter for +resentment. She hated the works as one is sometimes capable of +unreasonably hating a benefactor.</p> +<p>On Monday morning, rising a little earlier than usual, she was +surprised to find her mother alone at a disordered +breakfast-table.</p> +<p>'Has dad finished his breakfast already?' she inquired, +determined to be cheerful. Sleep, and her fundamental good-nature, +had modified her <a name='Page89' id="Page89"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>89</span>mood, and for the moment she meant to play the +rôle of dutiful daughter as well as she could.</p> +<p>'He has had to go off to Manchester by the first train,' said +Leonora. 'He'll be away all day. So you won't begin till +to-morrow.' She smiled gravely.</p> +<p>'Oh, good!' Ethel exclaimed with intense momentary relief.</p> +<p>But now again in Leonora's voice, and in her eye, there was the +soft warning, which Ethel seized, and which, without a relevant +word spoken, she communicated to her sisters. John Stanway's young +women began to reflect apprehensively upon the sudden +irregularities of his recent movements, his conferences with his +lawyer, his bluffing air; a hundred trifles too insignificant for +separate notice collected themselves together and became +formidable. A certain atmosphere of forced and false cheerfulness +spread through the house.</p> +<p>'Not gone to bed!' said Stanway briskly, when he returned home +by the late train and discovered his three girls in the +drawing-room. They allowed him to imagine that his jaunty air +deceived them; they were jaunty too; but all the while they read +his soul and pitied him with the intolerable condescension of youth +towards age.</p> +<p><a name='Page90' id="Page90"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>90</span>The next day Ethel had a further reprieve of +several hours, for Stanway said that he must go over to Hanbridge +in the morning, and would come back to Hillport for dinner, and +escort Ethel to the works immediately afterwards. None asked a +question, but everyone knew that he could only be going to +Hanbridge to consult with David Dain. This time the programme was +in fact executed. At two o'clock Ethel found herself in her +father's office.</p> +<p>As she took off her hat and jacket in the hard sinister room, +she looked like a violet roughly transplanted and bidden to blossom +in the mire. She knew that amid that environment she could be +nothing but incapable, dull, stupid, futile, and plain. She knew +that she had no brains to comprehend and no energy to prevail. +Every detail repelled her—the absence of fire-irons in the +hearth, the business almanacs on the discoloured walls, the great +flat table-desk, the dusty samples of tea-pots in the window, the +vast green safe in the corner, the glimpses of industrial squalor +in the yard, the sound of uncouth voices from the clerks' office, +the muffled beat of machinery under the floor, and the strange +uninhabited useless appearance of a small room seen through a +half-open door near the safe. She would have given a year of life, +in that first moment, to be helping <a name='Page91' id= +"Page91"></a><span class='pagenum'>91</span>her mother in some +despised monotonous household task at Hillport.</p> +<p>She felt that she was being outrageously deprived of a natural +right, hitherto enjoyed without let, to have the golden fruits of +labour brought to her in discreet silence as to their origin.</p> +<p>Stanway struck a bell with determination, and the manager +appeared, a tall, thin, sandy-haired man of middle age, who wore a +grey tailed-coat and a white apron.</p> +<p>'Ha! Mayer! That you?'</p> +<p>'Yes, sir.... Good afternoon, miss.'</p> +<p>'Good afternoon,' Ethel simpered foolishly, and she had it in +her to have slain both men because she felt such a silly +schoolgirl.</p> +<p>'I wanted Ryley. Where is he?'</p> +<p>'He's somewhere on the bank,<a name='FNanchor_3_3' id= +"FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href='#Footnote_3_3'><sup>[3]</sup></a> +sir—speaking to the mouldmaker, I think.'</p> +<p class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_3_3' id= +"Footnote_3_3"></a><a href='#FNanchor_3_3'>[3]</a>Bank = +earthenware manufactory. But here the word is used in a limited +sense, meaning the industrial, as distinguished from the +bureaucratic, part of the manufactory.</p> +<p>'Well, just bring me in that letter from Paris that came on +Saturday, will you?' Stanway requested.</p> +<p>'I've several things to speak to you about,' said Mr. Mayer, +when he had brought the letter.</p> +<p>'Directly,' Stanway answered, waving him away, and then turning +to Ethel: 'Now, young <a name='Page92' id="Page92"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>92</span>lady, I want this letter translating.' He placed +it before her on the table, together with some blank paper.</p> +<p>'Yes, father,' she said humbly.</p> +<p>Three hours a week for seven years she had sat in front of +French manuals at the school at Oldcastle; but she knew that, even +if the destiny of nations turned on it, she could not translate +that letter of ten lines. Nevertheless she was bound to make a +pretence of doing so.</p> +<p>'I don't think I can without a dictionary,' she plaintively +murmured, after a few minutes.</p> +<p>'Oh! Here's a French dictionary,' he replied, producing one from +a drawer, much to her chagrin; she had hoped that he would not have +a dictionary.</p> +<p>Then Stanway began to look through a pile of correspondence, and +to scribble in a large saffron-coloured diary. He went out to Mr. +Mayer; Mr. Mayer came in to him; they called to each other from +room to room. The machinery stopped beneath and started again. A +horse fell down in the yard, and Stanway, watching from the window, +exclaimed: 'Tsh! That carter!'</p> +<p>Various persons unceremoniously entered and asked questions, all +of which Stanway answered with equal dryness and certainty. At +intervals he poked the fire with an old walking-stick, <a name= +'Page93' id="Page93"></a><span class='pagenum'>93</span>Ethel never +glanced up. In a dream she handled the dictionary, the letter, the +blank paper, and wrote unfinished phrases with the thick office +pen.</p> +<p>'Done it?' he inquired at last.</p> +<p>'I—I—can't make out the figures,' she stammered. 'Is +that a 5 or a 7?' She pushed the letter across.</p> +<p>'Oh! That's a French 7,' he replied, and proceeded to make shots +at the meaning of sentences with a <i>flair</i> far surpassing her +own skill, though it was notorious that he knew no French whatever. +She had a sudden perception of his cleverness, his capacity, his +force, his mysterious hold on all kinds of things which eluded her +grasp and dismayed her.</p> +<p>'Let's see what you've done,' he demanded. She sighed in +despair, hesitating to give up the paper.</p> +<p>'Mr. Twemlow, by appointment,' announced a clerk, and Arthur +Twemlow walked into the office.</p> +<p>'Hallo, Twemlow!' said Stanway, meeting him gaily. 'I was just +expecting you. My new confidential clerk. Eh?' He pointed to Ethel, +who flushed to advantage. 'You've plenty of them over there, +haven't you—girl-clerks?'</p> +<p><a name='Page94' id="Page94"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>94</span>Twemlow assented, and remarked that he himself +employed a 'lady secretary.'</p> +<p>'Yes,' Stanway eagerly went on. 'That's what I mean to do. I +mean to buy a type-writer, and Miss shall learn shorthand and +type-writing.'</p> +<p>Ethel was astounded at the glibness of invention which could +instantly bring forth such an idea. She felt quite sure that until +that moment her father had had no plan at all in regard to her +attendance at the office.</p> +<p>'I'm sure I can't learn,' she said with genuine modesty, and as +she spoke she became very attractive to Twemlow, who said nothing, +but smiled at her sympathetically, protectively. She returned the +smile. By a swift miracle the violet was back again in its native +bed.</p> +<p>'You can go in there and finish your work, we shall disturb +you,' said her father, pointing to the little empty room, and she +meekly disappeared with the letter, the dictionary, and the piece +of paper.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'Well, how's business, Twemlow? By the way, have a cigar.'</p> +<p>Ethel, at the dusty table in the little room, could just see her +father's broad back through the door which, in her nervousness, she +had forgotten to <a name='Page95' id="Page95"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>95</span>close. She felt that the door ought to have been +latched, but she could not find courage deliberately to get up and +latch it now.</p> +<p>'Thanks,' said Arthur Twemlow. 'Business is going right +along.'</p> +<p>She heard the striking of a match, and the pleasant twang of +cigar-smoke greeted her nostrils. The two men seemed splendidly +masculine, important, self-sufficient. The triviality of feminine +atoms like herself, Rose, and Millicent, occurred to her almost as +a new fact, and she was ashamed of her existence.</p> +<p>'Buying much this trip?' asked Stanway.</p> +<p>'Not much, and not your sort,' said Twemlow. 'The truth is, I'm +fixing up a branch in London.'</p> +<p>'But, my dear fellow, surely there's no American business done +through London in English goods?'</p> +<p>'No, perhaps not,' said Twemlow. 'But that don't say there isn't +going to be. Besides, I've got a notion of coming in for a share of +your colonial shipping trade. And let me tell you there's a lot of +business done through London between the United States and the +Continent, in glass and fancy goods.'</p> +<p>'Oh, yes, I know there is,' Stanway conceded. 'And so you think +you're going to teach the old country a thing or two?'</p> +<p><a name='Page96' id="Page96"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>96</span>'That depends.'</p> +<p>'On what?'</p> +<p>'On whether the old country's made up her mind yet to sit down +and learn.' He laughed.</p> +<p>Ethel saw by the change of colour in her father's neck that the +susceptibilities of his patriotism had been assailed.</p> +<p>'What do you mean?' Stanway asked pugnaciously.</p> +<p>'I mean that you are falling behind here,' said Twemlow with +cold, nonchalant firmness. 'Every one knows that. You're getting +left. Look how you're being cut out in cheap toilet stuff. In ten +years you won't be shipping a hundred dollars' worth per annum of +cheap toilet to the States.'</p> +<p>'But listen, Twemlow,' said Stanway impressively.</p> +<p>Twemlow continued, imperturbable: 'You in the Five Towns stick +to old-fashioned methods. You can't cut it fine enough.'</p> +<p>'Old-fashioned? Not cut it fine enough?' Stanway exclaimed, +rising.</p> +<p>Twemlow laughed with real mirth. 'Yes,' he said.</p> +<p>'Give me one instance—one instance,' cried Stanway.</p> +<p>'Well,' said Twemlow, 'take firing. I hear <a name='Page97' id= +"Page97"></a><span class='pagenum'>97</span>you still pay your +firemen by the oven, and your placers by the day, instead of +settling all oven-work by scorage.'</p> +<p>'Tell me about that—the Trenton system. I'd like to hear +about that. It's been mentioned once or twice,' said Stanway, +resuming his chair.</p> +<p>'Mentioned!'</p> +<p>Ethel perceived vaguely that the forceful man who held her in +the hollow of his hand had met more than his match. Over that +spectacle she rejoiced like a small child; but at the same time +Arthur Twemlow's absolute conviction that the Five Towns was losing +ground frightened her, made her feel that life was earnest, and +stirred faint longings for the serious way. It seemed to her that +she was weighed down by knowledge of the world, whereas gay +Millicent, and Rose with her silly examinations.... She plunged +again into the actuality of the letter from Paris....</p> +<p>'I called really to speak to you about my father's estate.'</p> +<p>Ethel was startled into attention by the sudden careful +politeness in Arthur Twemlow's manner and by a quivering in his +voice.</p> +<p>'What of it?' said Stanway. 'I've forgotten all the details. +Fifteen years since, you know.'</p> +<p>'Yes. But it's on behalf of my sister, and I haven't been over +before. Besides, it wasn't till <a name='Page98' id= +"Page98"></a><span class='pagenum'>98</span>she heard I was coming +to England that she—asked me.'</p> +<p>'Well,' said Stanway. 'Of course I was the sole executor, and +it's my duty——'</p> +<p>'That's it,' Twemlow broke in. 'That's what makes it a little +awkward. No one's got the right to go behind you as executor. But +the fact is, my sister—we—my sister was surprised at +the smallness of the estate. We want to know what he did with his +money, that is, how much he really received before he died. Perhaps +you won't mind letting me look at the annual balance-sheets of the +old firm, say for 1875, 6, and 7. You see——'</p> +<p>Twemlow stopped as Stanway half-turned to look at the door +between the two rooms.</p> +<p>'Go on, go on,' said Stanway in his grandiose manner. 'That's +all right.'</p> +<p>Ethel knew in a flash that her father would have given a great +deal to have had the door shut, and equally that nothing on earth +would have induced him to shut it.</p> +<p>'That's all right,' he repeated. 'Go on.'</p> +<p>Twemlow's voice regained steadiness. 'You can perhaps understand +my sister's feelings.' Then a long pause. 'Naturally, if you don't +care to show me the balance-sheets——'</p> +<p>'My dear Twemlow,' said John stiffly, 'I <a name='Page99' id= +"Page99"></a><span class='pagenum'>99</span>shall be delighted to +show you anything you wish to see.'</p> +<p>'I only want to know——'</p> +<p>'Certainly, certainly. Quite justifiable and proper. I'll have +them looked up.'</p> +<p>'Any time will do.'</p> +<p>'Well, we're rather busy. Say a week to-day—if you're to +be here that long.'</p> +<p>'I guess that'll suit me,' said Twemlow.</p> +<p>His tone had a touch of cynical cruel patience.</p> +<p>The intangible and shapeless suspicions which Ethel had caught +from Leonora took a misty form and substance, only to be +immediately dispelled in that inconstant mind by the sudden +refreshing sound of Milly's voice: 'We've called to take Ethel +home, papa—oh, mother, here's Mr. Twemlow!'</p> +<p>In another moment the office was full of chatter and scent, and +Milly had run impulsively to Ethel: 'What <i>has</i> father given +you to do?'</p> +<p>'Oh dear!' Ethel sighed, with a fatigued gesture of knowing +nothing whatever.</p> +<p>'It's half-past five,' said Leonora, glancing into the inner +room, after she had spoken to Mr. Twemlow.</p> +<p>Three hours and a half had Ethel been in thrall! It was like a +century to her. She could have dropped into her mother's arms.</p> +<p><a name='Page100' id="Page100"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>100</span>'What have you come in, Nora?' asked Stanway, +'the trap?'</p> +<p>'No, the four-wheeled dog-cart, dear.'</p> +<p>'Well, Twemlow, drive up and have tea with us. Come along and +have a Five Towns high-tea.'</p> +<p>'Oh, Mr. Twemlow, do!' said Milly, nearly drowning Leonora's +murmured invitation.</p> +<p>Arthur hesitated.</p> +<p>'Come <i>along</i>,' Stanway insisted genially. 'Of course you +will.'</p> +<p>'Thank you,' was the rather feeble answer. 'But I shall have to +leave pretty early.'</p> +<p>'We'll see about that,' said Stanway. 'You can take Mr. Twemlow +and the girls, Nora, and I'll follow as quick as I can. I must +dictate a letter or two.'</p> +<p>The three women, Twemlow in the midst, escaped like a pretty +cloud out of the rude, dingy office, and their bright voices echoed +<i>diminuendo</i> down the stair. Stanway rang his bell fiercely. +The dictionary and the letter and Ethel's paper lay forgotten on +the dusty table of the inner room.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Arthur Twemlow felt that he ought to have been annoyed, but he +could do no more than keep up a certain reserve of manner. Neither +<a name='Page101' id="Page101"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>101</span>the memory of his humiliating clumsy lies about +his sister in broaching the matter of his father's estate to +Stanway, nor his clear perception that Stanway was a dishonest and +a frightened man, nor his strong theoretical objection to Stanway's +tactics in so urgently inviting him to tea, could overpower the +sensation of spiritual comfort and complacency which possessed him +as he sat between Leonora and Ethel at Leonora's splendidly laden +table. He fought doggedly against this sensation. He tried to +assume the attitude of a philosopher observing humanity, of a +spider watching flies; he tried to be critical, cold, aloof. He +listened as one set apart, and answered in monosyllables. But +despite his own volition the monosyllables were accompanied by a +smile that destroyed the effect of their curtness. The intimate +charm of the domesticity subdued his logical antipathies. He knew +that he was making a good impression among these women, that for +them there was something romantic and exciting about his history +and personality. And he liked them all. He liked even Rose, so +pale, strange, and contentious. In regard to Milly, whom he had +begun by despising, he silently admitted that a girl so vivacious, +supple, sparkling, and pretty, had the right to be as pertly +foolish as she chose. He took a direct fancy to Ethel. And he +decided <a name='Page102' id="Page102"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>102</span>once for ever that Leonora was a magnificent +creature.</p> +<p>In the play of conversation on domestic trifles, the most +ordinary phrases seemed to him to be charged with a peculiar +fascination. The little discussions about Milly's attempts at +housekeeping, about the austere exertions of Rose, Ethel's first +day at the office, Bran's new biscuits, the end of the lawn-tennis +season, the propriety of hockey for girls, were so mysteriously +pleasant to his ears that he felt it a sort of privilege to have +been admitted to them. And yet he clearly perceived the +shortcomings of each person in this little world of which the +totality was so delightful. He knew that Ethel was languidly +futile, Rose cantankerous, Milly inane, Stanway himself crafty and +meretricious, and Leonora often supine when she should not be. He +dwelt specially on the more odious aspects of Stanway's character, +and swore that, had Stanway forty womenfolk instead of four, he, +Arthur Twemlow, should still do his obvious duty of finishing what +he had begun. In chatting with his host after tea, he marked his +own attitude with much care, and though Stanway pretended not to +observe it, he knew that Stanway observed it well enough.</p> +<p>The three girls disappeared and returned in street attire. Rose +was going to the science <a name='Page103' id= +"Page103"></a><span class='pagenum'>103</span>classes at the +Wedgwood Institution, Ethel and Millicent to the rehearsal of the +Amateur Operatic Society. Again, in this distribution of the +complex family energy, there reappeared the suggestion of a +mysterious domestic charm.</p> +<p>'Don't be late to-night,' said Stanway severely to +Millicent.</p> +<p>'Now, grumbler,' retorted the intrepid child, putting her gloved +hand suddenly over her father's mouth; Stanway submitted. The +picture of the two in this delicious momentary contact remained +long in Twemlow's mind; and he thought that Stanway could not be +such a brute after all.</p> +<p>'Play something for us, Nora,' said the august paterfamilias, +spreading at ease in his chair in the drawing-room, when the girls +were gone. Leonora removed her bangles and began to play 'The Bees' +Wedding.' But she had not proceeded far before Milly ran in +again.</p> +<p>'A note from Mr. Dain, pa.'</p> +<p>Milly had vanished in an instant, and Leonora continued to play +as if nothing had happened, but Arthur was conscious of a change in +the atmosphere as Stanway opened the letter and read it.</p> +<p>'I must just go over the way and speak to a neighbour,' said +Stanway carelessly when Leonora <a name='Page104' id= +"Page104"></a><span class='pagenum'>104</span>had struck the final +chord. 'You'll excuse me, I know. Sha'n't be long.'</p> +<p>'Don't mention it,' Arthur replied with politeness, and then, +after Stanway had gone, leaving the door open, he turned to Leonora +at the piano, and said: 'Do play something else.'</p> +<p>Instead of answering, she rose, resumed her jewellery, and took +the chair which Stanway had left. She smiled invitingly, evasively, +inscrutably at her guest.</p> +<p>'Tell me about American women,' she said: 'I've always wanted to +know.'</p> +<p>He thought her attitude in the great chair the most enchanting +thing he had ever seen.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Leonora had watched Twemlow's demeanour from the moment when she +met him in her husband's office. She had guessed, but not +certainly, that it was still inimical at least to John, and the +exact words of Uncle Meshach's warning had recurred to her time +after time as she met his reluctant, cautious eyes. Nevertheless, +it was by the sudden uprush of an instinct, rather than by a +calculated design, that she, in her home and surrounded by her +daughters, began the process of enmeshing him in the web of +influences which she spun ceaselessly from the bright threads of +her own individuality. Her mind had food <a name='Page105' id= +"Page105"></a><span class='pagenum'>105</span>for sombre +preoccupation—the lost battle with Milly during the day about +Milly's comic-opera housekeeping; the tale told by John's nervous, +effusive, guilty manner; and especially the episode of the letter +from Dain and John's disappearance: these things were grave enough +to the mother and wife. But they receded like negligible trifles +into the distance as she rose so suddenly and with such a radiant +impulse from the piano. In the new enterprise of consciously +arousing the sympathy of a man, she had almost forgotten even the +desperate motive which had decided her to undertake it should she +get the chance.</p> +<p>'Tell me about American women,' she said. All her person was a +challenge. And then: 'Would you mind shutting the door after Jack?' +She followed him with her gaze as he crossed and recrossed the +room.</p> +<p>'What about American women?' he said, dropping all his previous +reserve like a garment. 'What do you want to know?'</p> +<p>'I've never seen one. I want to know what makes them so +charming.'</p> +<p>The fresh desirous interest in her voice flattered him, and he +smiled his content.</p> +<p>'Oh!' he drawled, leaning back in his chair, which faced hers by +the fire. 'I never noticed <a name='Page106' id= +"Page106"></a><span class='pagenum'>106</span>they were so +specially charming. Some of them are pretty nice, I expect, but +most of the young ones put on too much lugs, at any rate for an +Englishman.'</p> +<p>'But they're always marrying Englishmen. So how do you explain +that? I did think you'd be able to tell me about the American +women.'</p> +<p>'Perhaps I haven't met enough of just the right sort,' he +said.</p> +<p>'You're too critical,' she remarked, as though his case was a +peculiarly interesting one and she was studying it on its +merits.</p> +<p>'You only say that because I'm over forty and unmarried, Mrs. +Stanway. I'm not at all critical.'</p> +<p>'Over forty!' she exclaimed, and left a pause. He nodded. 'But +you are too critical,' she went on. 'It isn't that women don't +interest you—they do——'</p> +<p>'I should think they did,' he murmured, gratified.</p> +<p>'But you expect too much from them.'</p> +<p>'Look here!' he said, 'how do you know?'</p> +<p>She smiled with an assumption of the sadness of all knowledge; +she made him feel like a boy again: 'If you didn't expect too much +from them, you would have married long ago. It isn't as if you +hadn't seen the world.'</p> +<p><a name='Page107' id="Page107"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>107</span>'Seen the world!' he repeated. 'I've never seen +anything half so charming as your home, Mrs. Stanway.'</p> +<p>Both were extremely well satisfied with the course of the +conversation. Both wished that the interview might last for +indefinite hours, for they had slipped, as into a socket, into the +supreme topic, and into intimacy. They were happy and they knew it. +The egotism of each tingled sensitively with eager joy. They felt +that this was 'life,' one of the justifications of existence.</p> +<p>She shook her head slowly.</p> +<p>'Yes,' he continued, 'it's you who stay quietly at home that are +to be envied.'</p> +<p>'And you, a free bachelor, say that! Why, I should have +thought——'</p> +<p>'That's just it. You're quite wrong, if you'll let me say so. +Here am I, a free bachelor, as you call it. Can do what I like. Go +where I like. And yet I would sell my soul for a home like this. +Something ... you know. No, you don't. People say that women +understand men and what men feel, but they can't—they +can't.'</p> +<p>'No,' said Leonora seriously, 'I don't think they +can—still, I have a notion of what you mean.' She spoke with +modest sympathy.</p> +<p>'Have you?' he questioned.</p> +<p>She nodded. For a fraction of an instant she <a name='Page108' +id="Page108"></a><span class='pagenum'>108</span>thought of her +husband, stolid with all his impulsiveness, over at David +Dain's.</p> +<p>'People say to me, "Why don't you get married?"' Twemlow went +on, drawn by the subtle invitation of her manner. 'But how can I +get married? I can't get married by taking thought. They make me +tired. I ask them sometimes whether they imagine I keep single for +the fun of the thing.... Do you know that I've never yet been in +love—no, not the least bit.'</p> +<p>He presented her with this fact as with a jewel, and she so +accepted it.</p> +<p>'What a pity!' she said, gently.</p> +<p>'Yes, it's a pity,' he admitted. 'But look here. That's the +worst of me. When I get talking about myself I'm likely to become a +bore.'</p> +<p>Offering him the cigarette cabinet she breathed the old, +effective, sincere answer: 'Not at all, it's very interesting.'</p> +<p>'Let me see, this house belongs to you, doesn't it?' he said in +a different casual tone as he lighted a cigarette.</p> +<p>Shortly afterwards he departed. John had not returned from +Dain's, but Twemlow said that he could not possibly stay, as he had +an appointment at Hanbridge. He shook hands with restrained ardour. +Her last words to him were: 'I'm so sorry my husband isn't back,' +and <a name='Page109' id="Page109"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>109</span>even these ordinary words struck him as a +beautiful phrase. Alone in the drawing-room, she sighed happily and +examined herself in the large glass over the mantelpiece. The +shaded lights left her loveliness unimpaired; and yet, as she gazed +at the mirror, the worm gnawing at the root of her happiness was +not her husband's precarious situation, nor his deviousness, nor +even his mere existence, but the one thought: 'Oh! That I were +young again!'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'Mother, whatever do you think?' cried Millicent, running in +eagerly in advance of Ethel at ten o'clock. 'Lucy Turner's sister +died to-day, and so she can't sing in the opera, and I am to have +her part if I can learn it in three weeks.'</p> +<p>'What is her part?' Leonora asked, as though waking up.</p> +<p>'Why, mother, you know! Patience, of course! Isn't it +splendid?'</p> +<p>'Where are father and Mr. Twemlow? Ethel inquired, falling into +a chair.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page110' id="Page110"></a><span class='pagenum'>110</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V' id="CHAPTER_V"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>THE CHANCE</h3> +<p>Leonora was aware that she had tamed one of the lions which +menaced her husband's path; she could not conceive that Arthur +Twemlow, whatever his mysterious power over John, would find +himself able to exercise it now; Twemlow was a friend of hers, and +so disarmed. She wished to say proudly to John: 'I neither know nor +wish to know the nature of the situation between you and Arthur +Twemlow. But be at ease. He is no longer dangerous. I have arranged +it.' The thing was impossible to be said; she was bound to leave +John in ignorance; she might not even hint. Nevertheless, Leonora's +satisfaction in this triumph, her pleasure in the mere memory of +the intimate talk by the fire, her innocent joyous desire to see +Twemlow again soon, emanated from her in various subtle ways, and +the household was thereby soothed back into a feeling of security +about John. Leonora <a name='Page111' id="Page111"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>111</span>ignored, perhaps deliberately, that Stanway had +still before him the peril of financial embarrassment, that he was +mortgaging the house, and that his colloquies with David Dain +continued to be frequent and obviously disconcerting. When she saw +him nervous, petulant, preoccupied, she attributed his condition +solely to his thought of the one danger which she had secretly +removed. She had a strange determined impulse to be happy and +gay.</p> +<p>An episode at an extra Monday night rehearsal of the Amateur +Operatic Society seemed to point to the prevalence of certain +sinister rumours about Stanway's condition. Milly, inspired by +dreams of the future, had learnt her part perfectly in five days. +She sang and acted with magnificent assurance, and with a vivid +theatrical charm which awoke enthusiasm in the excitable breasts of +the male chorus. Harry Burgess lost his air of fatigued +worldliness, and went round naïvely demanding to be told +whether he had not predicted this miracle. Even the conductor was +somewhat moved.</p> +<p>'She'll do, by gad!' said that man of few illusions to his crony +the accompanist.</p> +<p>But it is not to be imagined that such a cardinal event as the +elevation of a chit like Millicent Stanway to the principal +rôle could <a name='Page112' id="Page112"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>112</span>achieve itself without much friction and +consequent heat. Many ladies of the chorus thought that the +committee no longer deserved the confidence of the society. At +least three suspected that the conductor had a private spite +against themselves. And one, aged thirty-five, felt convinced that +she was the victim of an elaborate and scandalous plot. To this +maid had been offered Milly's old part of Ella; it was a final +insult—but she accepted it. In the scene with Angela and +Bunthorne in the first act, the new Ella made the same mistake +three times at the words, 'In a doleful train,' and the conductor +grew sarcastic.</p> +<p>'May I show you how that bit goes, Miss Gardner?' said Milly +afterwards with exquisite pertness.</p> +<p>'No, thank you, Milly,' was the freezing emphasised answer; 'I +dare say I shall be able to manage without <i>your</i> +assistance.'</p> +<p>'Oh, ho!' sang Milly, delighted to have provoked this +exhibition, and she began a sort of Carmen dance of disdain.</p> +<p>'Girls grow up so quick nowadays!' Miss Gardner exclaimed, +losing control of herself; 'who are <i>you</i>, I should like to +know!' and she proceeded with her irrelevant inquiries: 'who's +<i>your</i> father? Doesn't every one know that he'll <a name= +'Page113' id="Page113"></a><span class='pagenum'>113</span>have +gone smash before the night of the show?' She was shaking, +insensate, brutal.</p> +<p>Millicent stood still, and went very white.</p> +<p>'Miss Gardner!'</p> +<p>'<i>Miss</i> Stanway!'</p> +<p>The rival divas faced each other, murderous, for a few seconds, +and then Milly turned, laughing, to Harry Burgess, who, consciously +secretarial, was standing near with several others.</p> +<p>'Either Miss Gardner apologises to me at once,' she said +lightly, 'at <i>once</i>, or else either she or I leave the +Society.'</p> +<p>Milly tapped her foot, hummed, and looked up into Miss Gardner's +eyes with serene contempt. Ethel was not the only one who was +amazed at the absolute certitude of victory in little Millicent's +demeanour. Harry Burgess spoke apart with the conductor upon this +astonishing contretemps, and while he did so Milly, still smiling, +hummed rather more loudly the very phrase of Ella's at which Miss +Gardner had stumbled. It was a masterpiece of insolence.</p> +<p>'We think Miss Gardner should withdraw the expression,' said +Harry after he had coughed.</p> +<p>'Never!' said Miss Gardner. 'Good-bye all!'</p> +<p>Thus ended Miss Gardner's long career as an operatic +artist—and not without pathos, <a name='Page114' id= +"Page114"></a><span class='pagenum'>114</span>for the ageing woman +sobbed as she left the room from which she had been driven by a +pitiless child.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>According to custom Harry Burgess set out from the National +School, where the rehearsals were held, with Ethel and Milly for +Hillport. But at the bottom of Church Street Ethel silently fell +behind and joined a fourth figure which had approached. The two +couples walked separately to Hillport by the field-path. As Harry +and Milly opened the wicket at the foot of Stanway's long garden, +Ethel ran up, alone again.</p> +<p>'That you?' cried a thin voice under the trees by the gate. It +was Rose, taking late exercise after her studies.</p> +<p>'Yes, it's us,' replied Harry. 'Shall you give me a whisky if I +come in?'</p> +<p>And he entered the house with the three girls.</p> +<p>'I'm certain Rose saw you with Fred in the field, and if she did +she's sure to split to mother,' Milly whispered as she and Ethel +ran upstairs. They could hear Harry already strumming on the +piano.</p> +<p>'I don't care!' said Ethel callously, exasperated by three days +of futility at the office, and by the manifest injustice of +fate.</p> +<p><a name='Page115' id="Page115"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>115</span>'My dear, I want to speak to you,' said Leonora +to Ethel, when the informal supper was over, and Harry had +buckishly departed, and Rose and Milly were already gone upstairs. +Not a word had been mentioned as to the great episode of the +rehearsal.</p> +<p>'Well, mother?' Ethel answered in a tone of weary defiance.</p> +<p>Leonora still sat at the supper-table, awaiting John, who was +out at a meeting; Ethel stood leaning against the mantelpiece like +a boy.</p> +<p>'How often have you been seeing Fred Ryley lately?' Leonora +began with a gentle, pacific inquiry.</p> +<p>'I see him every day at the works, mother.'</p> +<p>'I don't mean at the works; you know that, Ethel.'</p> +<p>'I suppose Rose has been telling you things.'</p> +<p>'Rose told me quite innocently that she happened to see Fred in +the field to-night.'</p> +<p>'Oh, yes!' Ethel sneered with cold irony. 'I know Rose's +innocence!'</p> +<p>'My dear girl,' Leonora tried to reason with her. 'Why will you +talk like that? You know you promised your +father——'</p> +<p>'No, I didn't, ma,' Ethel interrupted her sharply. 'Milly did; I +never promised father anything.'</p> +<p><a name='Page116' id="Page116"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>116</span>Leonora was astonished at the mutinous +desperation in Ethel's tone. It left her at a loss.</p> +<p>'I shall have to tell your father,' she said sadly.</p> +<p>'Well, of course, mother,' Ethel managed her voice carefully. +'You tell him everything.'</p> +<p>'No, I don't, my dear,' Leonora denied the charge like a girl. +'A week last night I heard Fred Ryley talking to you at your +window. And I have said nothing.'</p> +<p>Ethel flushed hotly at this disclosure.</p> +<p>'Then why say anything now?' she murmured, half daunted and half +daring.</p> +<p>'Your father must know. I ought to have told him before. But I +have been wondering how best to act.'</p> +<p>'What's the matter with Fred, mother?' Ethel demanded, with a +catch in her throat.</p> +<p>'That isn't the point, Ethel. Your father has distinctly said +that he won't permit any'—she stopped because she could not +bring herself to say the words; and then continued: 'If he had the +slightest suspicion that there was anything between <i>you</i> and +Fred Ryley he would never have allowed you to go to the works at +all.'</p> +<p>'Allowed me to go! I like that, mother! <a name='Page117' id= +"Page117"></a><span class='pagenum'>117</span>As if I wanted to go +to the works! I simply hate the place—father knows that. And +yet—and yet——' She almost wept.</p> +<p>'Your father must be obeyed,' Leonora stated simply.</p> +<p>'Suppose Fred <i>is</i> poor,' Ethel ran on, recovering herself. +'Perhaps he won't be poor always. And perhaps we shan't be rich +always. The things that people are saying——' She +hesitated, afraid to proceed.</p> +<p>'What do you mean, dear?'</p> +<p>'Well!' the girl exclaimed, and then gave a brief account of the +Gardner incident.</p> +<p>'My child,' was Leonora's placid comment, 'you ought to know +that Florence Gardner will say anything when she is in a temper. +She is the worst gossip in Bursley. I only hope Milly wasn't rude. +And really this has got nothing to do with what we are talking +about.'</p> +<p>'Mother!' Ethel cried hysterically, 'why are you always so calm? +Just imagine yourself in my place—with Fred. You say I'm a +woman, and I am, I am, though you don't think so, truly. Just +imagine—— No, you can't! You've forgotten all that sort +of thing, mother.' She burst into gushing tears at last. 'Father +can kill me if he likes! I don't care!'</p> +<p>She fled out of the room.</p> +<p><a name='Page118' id="Page118"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>118</span>'So I've forgotten, have I!' Leonora said to +herself, smiling faintly, as she sat alone at the table waiting for +John.</p> +<p>She was not at all hurt by Ethel's impassioned taunt, but rather +amused, indulgently amused, that the girl should have so misread +her. She felt more maternal, protective, and tender towards Ethel +than she had ever felt since the first year of Ethel's existence. +She seemed perfectly to comprehend, and she nobly excused, the +sudden outbreak of violence and disrespect on the part of her +languid, soft-eyed daughter. She thought with confidence that all +would come right in the end, and vaguely she determined that in +some undefined way she would help Ethel, would yet demonstrate to +this child of hers that she understood and sympathised. The +interview which had just terminated, futile, conflicting, +desultory, muddled, tentative, and abrupt as life itself, appeared +to her in the light of a positive achievement. She was not unhappy +about it, nor about anything. Even the scathing speech of Florence +Gardner had failed to disturb her.</p> +<p>'I want to tell you something, Jack,' she began, when her +husband at length came home.</p> +<p>'Who's been drinking whisky?' was Stanway's only reply as he +glanced at the table.</p> +<p><a name='Page119' id="Page119"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>119</span>'Harry brought the girls home. I dare say he +had some. I didn't notice,' she said.</p> +<p>'H'm!' Stanway muttered gloomily, 'he's young enough to start +that game.'</p> +<p>'I'll see it isn't offered to him again, if you like,' said +Leonora. 'But I want to tell you something, Jack.'</p> +<p>'Well?' He was thoughtlessly cutting a piece of cheese into +small squares with the silver butter-knife.</p> +<p>'Only you must promise not to say a word to a soul.'</p> +<p>'I shall promise no such thing,' he said with uncompromising +bluntness.</p> +<p>She smiled charmingly upon him. 'Oh yes, Jack, you will, you +must.'</p> +<p>He seemed to be taken unawares by her sudden smile. 'Very well,' +he said gruffly.</p> +<p>She then told him, in the manner she thought best, of the +relations between Ethel and Fred Ryley, and she pointed out to him +that, if he had reflected at all upon the relations between Harry +Burgess and Millicent, he would not have fallen into the error of +connecting Milly, instead of her sister, with Fred.</p> +<p>'What relations between Milly and young Burgess?' he questioned +stolidly.</p> +<p>'Why, Jack,' she said, 'you know as much <a name='Page120' id= +"Page120"></a><span class='pagenum'>120</span>as I do. Why does +Harry come here so often?'</p> +<p>'He'd better not come here so often. What's Milly? She's nothing +but a child.'</p> +<p>Leonora made no attempt to argue with him. 'As for Ethel,' she +said softly, 'she's at a difficult age, and you must be +careful——'</p> +<p>'As for Ethel,' he interrupted, 'I'll turn Fred Ryley out of my +office to-morrow.'</p> +<p>She tried to look grave and sympathetic, to use all her tact. +'But won't that make difficulties with Uncle Meshach? And people +might say you had dismissed him because Uncle Meshach had altered +his will.'</p> +<p>'D——n Fred Ryley!' he swore, unable to reply to +this. 'D——n him!'</p> +<p>He walked to and fro in the room, and all his secret, profound +resentment against Ryley surged up, loose and uncontrolled.</p> +<p>'Wouldn't it be better to take Ethel away from the works?' +Leonora suggested.</p> +<p>'No,' he answered doggedly. 'Not for a moment! Can't I have my +own daughter in my own office because Fred Ryley is on the place? A +pretty thing!'</p> +<p>'It is awkward,' she admitted, as if admitting also that what +puzzled his sagacity was of course too much for hers.</p> +<p><a name='Page121' id="Page121"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>121</span>'Fred Ryley!' he repeated the hateful syllables +bitterly. 'And I only took him out of kindness! Simply out of +kindness! I tell you what, Leonora!' He faced her in a sort of +bravado. 'It would serve 'em d——n well right if Uncle +Meshach died to-morrow, and Aunt Hannah the day after. I should be +safe then. It would serve them d——n well right, all of +'em—Ryley and Uncle Meshach; yes, and Aunt Hannah too! She +hasn't altered her will, but she'd no business to have let uncle +alter his. They're all in it. She's bound to die first, and they +know it.... Well, well!' He was a resigned martyr now, and he +turned towards the hearth.</p> +<p>'Jack!' she exclaimed, 'what's the matter?'</p> +<p>'Ruin's the matter,' he said. 'That's what's the matter. +Ruin!'</p> +<p>He laughed sourly, undecided whether to pretend that he was not +quite serious, or to divulge his real condition.</p> +<p>Her calm confident eyes silently invited him to relieve his +mind, and he could not resist the temptation.</p> +<p>'You know that mortgage on the house,' he said quickly. 'I got +it all arranged at once. Dain was to have sent the deed in last +Tuesday night for you to sign, but he sent in a letter instead. +<a name='Page122' id="Page122"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>122</span>That's why I had to go over and see him. There +was some confounded hitch at the last moment, a flaw in the +title——'</p> +<p>'A flaw in the title!' It was the phrase only that alarmed +her.</p> +<p>'Oh! It's all <i>right</i>,' said Stanway, wondering angrily why +women should always, by the trick of seizing on trifles, destroy +the true perspective of a business affair. 'The title's all right, +at least it will be put right. But it means delay, and I can't +wait. I must have money at once, in three days. Can you understand +that, my girl?'</p> +<p>By an effort she conquered the impulses to ask why, and why, and +why; and to suggest economy in the house. Something came to her +mysteriously out of her memory of her own father's affairs, a +sudden inspiration; and she said:</p> +<p>'Can't you deposit my deeds at the bank and get a temporary +advance?' She was very proud of this clever suggestion.</p> +<p>He shook his head: 'No, the bank won't.'</p> +<p>The fact was that the bank had long been pressing him to deposit +security for his over-draft.</p> +<p>'I tell you what might be done,' he said, brightening as her +idea gave birth to another one in his mind. 'Uncle Meshach might +lend some <a name='Page123' id="Page123"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>123</span>money on the deeds. You shall go down to-morrow +morning and ask him, Nora.'</p> +<p>'Me!' She was scared at this result.</p> +<p>'Yes, you,' he insisted, full of eagerness. 'It's your house. +Ask him to let you have five hundred on the house for a short +while. Tell him we want it. You can get round him easily +enough.'</p> +<p>'Jack, I can't do it, really.'</p> +<p>'Oh yes, you can,' he assured her. 'No one better. He likes you. +He doesn't like me—never did. Ask him for five hundred. No, +ask him for a thousand. May as well make it a thousand. It'll be +all the same to him. You go down in the morning, and do it for +me.'</p> +<p>Stanway's animation became quite cheerful.</p> +<p>'But about the title—the flaw?' she feebly questioned.</p> +<p>'That won't frighten uncle,' said Stanway positively. 'He knows +the title is good enough. That's only a technical detail.'</p> +<p>'Very well,' she agreed, 'I'll do what I can, Jack.'</p> +<p>'That's good,' he said.</p> +<p>And even now, the resolve once made, she did not lose her sense +of tranquil optimism, her mild happiness, her widespreading +benevolence. The result of this talk with John aroused in her +<a name='Page124' id="Page124"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>124</span>an innocent vanity, for was it not indirectly +due to herself that John had been able to see a way out of his +difficulties?</p> +<p>They soon afterwards dismissed the subject, put it with care +away in a corner; and John finished his supper.</p> +<p>'Is Mr. Twemlow still in the district?' she asked +vivaciously.</p> +<p>'Yes,' said John, and there was a pause.</p> +<p>'You're doing some business together, aren't you, Jack?' she +hazarded.</p> +<p>John hesitated. 'No,' he said, 'he only wanted to see me about +old Twemlow's estate—some details he was after.'</p> +<p>'I felt it,' she mused. 'I felt all the time it was that that +was wrong. And John is worrying over it! But he needn't—he +needn't—and he doesn't know!'</p> +<p>She exulted.</p> +<p>She could read plainly the duplicity in his face. She knew that +he had done some wicked thing, and that all his life was a maze of +more or less equivocal stratagems. But she was so used to the +character of her husband that this aspect of the situation scarcely +impressed her. It was her new active beneficent interference in +John's affairs that seemed to occupy her thoughts.</p> +<p><a name='Page125' id="Page125"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>125</span>'I told you I wouldn't say anything about +Ethel's affair,' said John later, 'and I won't.' He was once more +judicial and pompous. 'But, of course, you will look after it. I +shall leave it to you to deal with. You'll have to be firm, you +know.'</p> +<p>'Yes,' she said.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Not till after breakfast the next day did Leonora realise the +utter repugnance with which she shrank from the mission to Uncle +Meshach. She had declined to look the project fairly in the face, +to examine her own feelings concerning it. She had said to herself +when she awoke in the dark: 'It is nothing. It is a mere business +matter. It isn't like begging.' But the idea, the absurd +indefensible idea, of its similarity to begging was precisely what +troubled her as the moment approached for setting forth. She +pondered, too, upon the intolerable fact that such a request as she +was about to prefer to Uncle Meshach was a tacit admission that +John, with all his ostentations, had at last come to the end of the +tether. She felt that she was a living part of John's +meretriciousness. She had the fancy that she should have dressed +for the occasion in rusty black. Was it not somehow shameful that +she, a suppliant for financial aid, should outrage <a name= +'Page126' id="Page126"></a><span class='pagenum'>126</span>the ugly +modesty of the little parlour in Church Street by the arrogant and +expensive perfection of her beautiful skirt and street attire?</p> +<p>Moreover, she would fail.</p> +<p>The morning was fine, and with infantile pusillanimity she began +to hope that Uncle Meshach would be taking his walks abroad. In +order to give him every chance of being out she delayed her +departure, upon one domestic excuse or another, for quite half an +hour. 'How silly I am!' she reflected. But she could not help it, +and when she had started down the hill towards Bursley she felt +sick. She had a suspicion that her feet might of their own accord +turn into a by-road and lead her away from Uncle Meshach's. 'I +shall never get there!' she exclaimed. She called at the +fishmonger's in Oldcastle Street, and was delighted because the +shop was full of customers and she had to wait. At last she was +crossing St. Luke's Square and could distinguish Uncle Meshach's +doorway with its antique fanlight. She wished to stop, to turn +back, to run, but her traitorous feet were inexorable. They carried +her an unwilling victim to the house. Uncle Meshach, by some +strange accident, was standing at the window and saw her. 'Ah!' she +thought, 'if he had not been at the window, if he had not caught +sight of me, I should have <a name='Page127' id= +"Page127"></a><span class='pagenum'>127</span>walked past!' And +that chance of escape seemed like a lost bliss.</p> +<p>Uncle Meshach himself opened the door.</p> +<p>'Come in, lass,' he said, looking her up and down through his +glasses. 'You're the prettiest thing I've seen since I saw ye last. +Your aunt's out, with the servant too; and I'm left here same as a +dog on the chain. That's how they leave me.'</p> +<p>She was thankful that Aunt Hannah was out: that made the affair +simpler.</p> +<p>'Well, uncle,' she said, 'I haven't seen you since you came back +from the Isle of Man, have I?'</p> +<p>Some inspiration lent her a courage which rose far beyond +embarrassment. She saw at once that the old man was enchanted to +have her in the house alone, and flattered by the apparatus of +feminine elegance which she always displayed for him at its +fullest. These two had a sort of cult for each other, a secret +sympathy, none the less sincere because it seldom found expression. +His pale blue eyes, warmed by her presence, said: 'I'm an old man, +and I've seen the world, and I keep a few of my ideas to myself. +But you know that no one understands a pretty woman better than I +do. A glance is enough.' And in reply to this challenge she gave +the rein <a name='Page128' id="Page128"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>128</span>to her profoundest instincts. She played the +simple feminine to his masculine. She dared to be the eternal +beauty who rules men, and will ever rule them, they know not +why.</p> +<p>'My lass,' he said in a tone that granted all requests in +advance, after they had talked a while, 'you're after +something.'</p> +<p>His wrinkled features, ironic but benevolent, intimated that he +knew she wished to take an unfair advantage of the gifts which +Nature had bestowed on her, and that he did not object.</p> +<p>She allowed herself to smile mysteriously, provocatively at +him.</p> +<p>'Yes,' she admitted frankly, 'I am.'</p> +<p>'Well?' He waited indulgently for the disclosure.</p> +<p>She paused a moment, smiling steadily at him. The contrast of +his wizened age made her feel deliciously girlish.</p> +<p>'It's about my house, at Hillport,' she began with assurance. 'I +want you——'</p> +<p>And she told him, with no more than a sufficiency of detail, +what she wanted. She did not try to conceal that the aim was to +help John, that, in crude fact, it was John who needed the money. +But she emphasised '<i>my</i> house,' and '<i>I</i> want you to +lend <i>me</i>.' The thing was well done, and she knew it was well +done, and felt satisfied <a name='Page129' id= +"Page129"></a><span class='pagenum'>129</span>accordingly. As for +Meshach, he was decidedly caught unawares. He might, perhaps, have +suspected from the beginning that she was only an emissary of +John's, but the form and magnitude of her proposal were a violent +surprise to him. He hesitated. She could see clearly that he sought +reasons by which to justify himself in acquiescence.</p> +<p>'It's your affair?' he questioned meditatively.</p> +<p>'Quite my own,' she assured him.</p> +<p>'Let me see——'</p> +<p>'I shall get it!' she said to herself, and she was astounded at +the felicitous event of the enterprise. She could scarcely believe +her good luck, but she knew beyond any doubt that she was not +mistaken in the signs of Meshach's demeanour. She thought she might +even venture to ask him for an explanation of his warning letter +about Arthur Twemlow.</p> +<p>At that moment Aunt Hannah and the middle-aged servant +re-entered the house, and the servant had to pass through the +parlour to reach the kitchen. The atmosphere which Meshach and +Leonora had evolved in solitude from their respective +individualities was dissipated instantly. The parlour became +nothing but the parlour, with its glass partition, its +antimacassars, its Meshach by the hob, and its diminutive <a name= +'Page130' id="Page130"></a><span class='pagenum'>130</span>Hannah +uttering fatuous, affectionate exclamations of pleasure.</p> +<p>Leonora's heart was pierced by a sudden stab of doubt, as she +waited for the result.</p> +<p>'Sister,' said Meshach, 'what dost think? Here's your nephew +been speculating in stocks and shares till he can't hardly turn +round——'</p> +<p>'Uncle!' Leonora exclaimed horrified, 'I never said such a +thing!'</p> +<p>'Sh!' said Hannah in an awful whisper, as she shut the kitchen +door.</p> +<p>'Till he can't hardly turn round,' Meshach continued; 'and now +he wants Leonora here to mortgage her house to get him out of his +difficulties. Haven't I always told you as John would find himself +in a rare fix one of these days?'</p> +<p>Few human beings could dominate another more completely than +Meshach dominated his sister. But here, for Leonora's undoing, was +just a case where, without knowing it, Hannah influenced her +brother. He had a reputation to keep up with Hannah, a great and +terrible reputation, and in several ways a loan by him through +Leonora to John would have damaged it. A few minutes later, and he +would have been committed both to the loan and to the demonstration +of his own consistency in the humble eyes of <a name='Page131' id= +"Page131"></a><span class='pagenum'>131</span>Hannah; but the old +spinster had arrived too soon. The spell was broken. Meshach +perceived the danger of his position, and retired.</p> +<p>'Nay, nay!' Hannah protested. 'That's very wrong of John. Eh, +this speculation!'</p> +<p>'But, really, uncle,' Leonora said as convincingly as she could. +'It's capital that John wants.'</p> +<p>She saw that all was lost.</p> +<p>'Capital!' Meshach sarcastically flouted the word, and he turned +with a dubious benevolence to Leonora. 'No, my lass, it isn't,' he +said, pausing. 'John'll get out of this mess as he's gotten out of +many another. Trust him. He's your husband, and he's in the family, +and I'm saying nothing against him. But trust him for that.'</p> +<p>'No,' Hannah inserted, 'John's always been a good nephew.... If +it wasn't——'</p> +<p>Meshach quelled her and proceeded: 'I'll none consent to John +raising money on your property. It's not right, lass. Happen +this'll be a lesson to him, if anything will be.'</p> +<p>'Five hundred would do,' Leonora murmured with mad +foolishness.</p> +<p>Of what use to chronicle the dreadful shame which she endured +before she could leave the house, she who for a quarter of an hour +had been a queen <a name='Page132' id="Page132"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>132</span>there, and who left as the pitied wife of a +wastrel nephew?</p> +<p>'You're not <i>short</i>, my dear?' Hannah asked at the end in +an anxious voice.</p> +<p>'Not he!' Uncle Meshach testily ejaculated, fastening the button +of that droll necktie of his.</p> +<p>'Oh dear no!' said Leonora, with such dignity as she could +assume.</p> +<p>As she walked home she wondered what 'speculation' really was. +She could not have defined the word. She possessed but a vague idea +of its meaning. She had long apprehended, ignorantly and +indifferently and uneasily, that John was in the habit of tampering +with dangerous things called stocks and shares. But never before +had the vital import of these secret transactions been revealed to +her. The dramatic swiftness of the revelation stunned her, and yet +it seemed after all that she only knew now what she had always +known.</p> +<p>When she reached home John was already in the hall, taking off +his overcoat, though the hour of one had not struck. Was this a +coincidence, or had he been unable to control his desire to learn +what she had done?</p> +<p>In silence she smiled plaintively at him, shaking her head.</p> +<p><a name='Page133' id="Page133"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>133</span>'What do you mean?' he asked harshly.</p> +<p>'I couldn't arrange it,' she said. 'Uncle Meshach refused.'</p> +<p>John gave a scarcely perceptible start. 'Oh! That!' he +exclaimed. 'That's all right. I've fixed it up.'</p> +<p>'This morning?'</p> +<p>'Eh? Yes, this morning.'</p> +<p>During dinner he showed a certain careless amiability.</p> +<p>'You needn't go to the works any more to-day,' he said to +Ethel.</p> +<p>To celebrate this unexpected half-holiday, Ethel and Millicent +decided that they would try to collect a scratch team for some +hockey practice in the meadow.</p> +<p>'And, mother, you must come,' said Millicent. 'You'll make one +more anyway.'</p> +<p>'Yes,' John agreed, 'it will do your mother good.'</p> +<p>'He will never know, and never guess, and never care, what I +have been through!' she thought.</p> +<p>Before leaving for the works John helped the girls to choose +some sticks.</p> +<p>When he reached his office, the first thing he did was to build +up a good fire. Next he looked <a name='Page134' id= +"Page134"></a><span class='pagenum'>134</span>into the safe. Then +he rang the bell, and Fred Ryley responded to the summons.</p> +<p>This family connection, whom he both hated and trusted, was a +rather thickset, very neatly dressed man of twenty-three, who had +been mature, serious, and responsible for eight years. His fair, +grave face, with its short thin beard, showed plainly his leading +qualities of industry, order, conscientiousness, and doggedness. It +showed, too, his mild benevolence. Ryley was never late, never +neglectful, never wrong; he never wasted an hour either of his own +or his employer's time. And yet his colleagues liked him, perhaps +because he was unobtrusive and good-natured. At the beginning of +each year he laid down a programme for himself, and he was +incapable of swerving from it. Already he had acquired a thorough +knowledge of both the manufacturing and the business sides of +earthenware manufacture, and also he was one of the few men, at +that period, who had systematically studied the chemistry of +potting. He could not fail to 'get on,' and to win universal +respect. His chances of a truly striking success would have been +greater had he possessed imagination, humour, or any sort of +personal distinction. In appearance, he was common, insignificant; +to be appreciated, he 'wanted knowing'; but he <a name='Page135' +id="Page135"></a><span class='pagenum'>135</span>was extremely +sensitive and proud, and he could resent an affront like a Gascon. +He had apparently no humour whatever. The sole spark of romance in +him had been fanned into a small steady flame by his passion for +Ethel. Ryley was a man who could only love once for all.</p> +<p>'Did you find that private ledger for me out of the old safe?' +Stanway demanded.</p> +<p>'Yes,' said Ryley, 'and I put it in your safe, at the front, and +gave you the key back this morning.'</p> +<p>'I don't see it there,' Stanway retorted.</p> +<p>'Shall I look?' Ryley suggested quietly, approaching the safe, +of which the key was in the lock.</p> +<p>'Never mind, now! Never mind, now!' Stanway stopped him. 'I +don't want to be bothered now. Later on in the afternoon, before +Mr. Twemlow comes.... Did you write and ask him to call at four +thirty?'</p> +<p>'Yes,' said Ryley, departing without a sign on his face, the +model clerk.</p> +<p>'Fool!' whispered Stanway. It would have been impossible for +Ryley to breathe without irritating his employer, and the fact that +his plebeian cousin's son was probably the most reliable underling +to be got in the Five Towns did not in the slightest degree lessen +Stanway's dislike of him; it increased it.</p> +<p><a name='Page136' id="Page136"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>136</span>Stanway had been perfectly aware that the +little ledger was in his safe, and as soon as Ryley had shut the +door he jumped up, unlatched the safe, removed the book, and after +tearing it in two stuck first one half and then the other into the +midst of the fire.</p> +<p>'That ends it, anyhow!' he thought, when the leaves were +consumed.</p> +<p>Then he selected some books of cheque counterfoils, a number of +prospectuses of companies, some share certificates (exasperating +relic of what rich dreams!), and a lot of letters. All these he +burnt with much neatness and care, putting more coal on the fire so +as to hide every trace of their destruction. Then he opened a +drawer in the desk, and took out a revolver which he unloaded and +loaded again.</p> +<p>'I'm pretty cool,' he flattered himself.</p> +<p>He was the sort of flamboyant man who keeps a loaded revolver in +obedience to the theory that a loaded revolver is a necessary and +proper part of the true male's outfit, like a gold watch and chain, +a gold pencil case, a razor for every day in the week, and a +cigar-holder with a bit of good amber to it. He had owned that +revolver for years, with no thought of utilising the weapon. But in +justice to him, it must be said that when any of his +contemporaries—Titus <a name='Page137' id= +"Page137"></a><span class='pagenum'>137</span>Price, for +instance—had made use of revolvers or ropes in a particular +way, he had always secretly justified and commended them.</p> +<p>He put the revolver in his hip-pocket, the correct location, and +donned his 'works' hat. He did not reflect. Memories of his past +life did not occur to him, nor visions of that which was to come. +He did not feel solemn. On the contrary he felt cross with +everyone, and determined to pay everyone out; in particular he was +vexed, in a mean childish way, with Uncle Meshach, and with himself +for having fancied for a moment that an appeal to Uncle Meshach +could be successful. One other idea struck him forcibly by reason +of its strangeness: namely, that the works was proceeding exactly +as usual, raw material always coming in, finished goods always +going out, the various shops hot and murmurous with toil, money +tinkling in the petty cash-box, the very engine beneath his floor +beating its customary monotonous stroke; and his comfortable home +was proceeding exactly as usual, the man hissing about the stable +yard, the servants discreetly moving in the immaculate kitchens, +Leonora elegant with sovereigns in her purse, the girls chattering +and restless; not a single outward sign of disaster; and yet he was +at the end, absolutely at the end at last. There <a name='Page138' +id="Page138"></a><span class='pagenum'>138</span>was going to be a +magnificent and unparalleled sensation in the town of Bursley ... +He seemed for an instant dimly to perceive ways, or incomplete +portions of ways, by which he might still escape ... Then with a +brusque gesture he dismissed such futile scheming and yielded anew +to the impulse which had suddenly and piquantly seized him, three +hours before, when Leonora said: 'Uncle Meshach won't,' and he +replied, 'I've fixed it up.' His dilemma was too complicated. No +one, not even Dain, was aware of its intricacies; Dain knew a lot, +Leonora a little, and sundry other persons odd fragments. But he +himself could scarcely have drawn the outlines of the whole +sinister situation without much reference to books and +correspondence. No, he had finished. He was bored, and he was +irritable. The impulse hurried him on.</p> +<p>'In half an hour that ass Twemlow will be here,' he thought, +looking at the office dial over the mantelpiece.</p> +<p>And then he left his room, calling out to the clerks' room as he +passed: 'Just going on to the bank. I shall be back in a minute or +two.'</p> +<p>At the south-western corner of the works was a disused +enamel-kiln which had been built experimentally and had proved a +failure. He walked through the yard, crept with some <a name= +'Page139' id="Page139"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>139</span>difficulty into the kiln, and closed the iron +door. A pale silver light came down the open chimney. He had +decided as he crossed the yard that he should place the mouth of +the revolver between his eyes, so that he had nothing to do in the +kiln but to put it there and touch the trigger. The idea of this +simple action preoccupied him. 'Yes,' he reflected, taking the +revolver from his pocket, 'that is where I must put it, and then +just touch the trigger.' He thought neither of his family, nor of +his sins, nor of the grand fiasco, but solely of this physical +action. Then, as he raised the revolver, the fear troubled him that +he had not burnt a particular letter from a Jew in London, received +on the previous day. 'Of course I burnt it,' he assured himself. +'Did I, though?' He felt that a mysterious volition over which he +had no control would force him to return to his office in order to +make sure. He gave a weary curse at the prospect of having to put +back the revolver, leave the kiln, enter the kiln again, and once +more raise the revolver.</p> +<p>As he passed by the archway near the packing house the afternoon +postman appeared and gave him a letter. Without thinking he halted +on the spot and opened it. It was written in haste, and ran: 'My +Dear Stanway,—I am called away to London and <i>may</i> have +to sail for New York at <a name='Page140' id= +"Page140"></a><span class='pagenum'>140</span>once. Sorry to have +to break the appointment. We must leave that affair over. In any +case it could only be a mere matter of form. As I told you, I was +simply acting on behalf of my sister. My kindest regards to your +wife and your daughters. Believe me, yours very truly,—ARTHUR +TWEMLOW.'</p> +<p>He read the letter a second time in his office, standing up +against the shut door. Then his eye wandered to the desk and he saw +that an envelope had been placed with mathematical exactitude in +the middle of his blotting-pad. 'Ryley!' he thought. This other +letter was marked private, and as the envelope said 'John Stanway, +Esq.,' without an address, it must have been brought by special +messenger. It was from David Dain, and stated that the difficulty +as to the title of the house had been settled, that the mortgage +would be sent in for Mrs. Stanway to sign that night, and that +Stanway might safely draw against the money to-morrow.</p> +<p>'My God!' he exclaimed, pushing his hat back from his brow. +'What a chance!'</p> +<p>In five minutes he was drawing cheques, and simultaneously +planning how to get over the disappearance of the old private +ledger in case Twemlow should after all, at some future date, ask +to see original documents.</p> +<p><a name='Page141' id="Page141"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>141</span>'What a chance!' The thought ran round and +round in his brain.</p> +<p>As he left the works by the canal side, he paused under Shawport +Bridge and furtively dropped the revolver into the water. 'That's +done with!' he murmured.</p> +<p>He saw now that his preparations for departure, which at the +moment he had deemed to be so well designed and so effective, were +after all ridiculous. No amount of combustion could have prevented +the disclosure at an inquest of the ignominious facts.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>During tea he laughed loudly at Milly's descriptions of the +hockey match, which had been a great success. Leonora had kept goal +with distinction, and admitted that she rather enjoyed the +game.</p> +<p>'So it is arranged?' said Leonora, with a hint of involuntary +surprise, when he handed her the mortgage to sign.</p> +<p>'Didn't I tell you so this morning?' he answered loftily. There +is always a despicable joy in resuscitating a lie which events have +changed into a truth.</p> +<p>He insisted on retiring early that night. In the bedroom he +remarked: 'Your friend Twemlow's had to go to London to-day, and +may return <a name='Page142' id="Page142"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>142</span>straight from there to New York. I had a note +from him. He sent you his kindest regards and all that sort of +thing.'</p> +<p>'Then we mayn't see him again?' she said, delicately fingering +her hair in front of the pier-glass.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page143' id="Page143"></a><span class='pagenum'>143</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI' id="CHAPTER_VI"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>COMIC OPERA</h3> +<p>Early one evening a few weeks later, Leonora, half attired for +the gala night of the operatic performance, was again delicately +fingering her hair in that large bedroom whose mirrors daily +reflected the leisured process of her toilette. Her black skirt +trimmed with yellow made a sudden sharp contrast with the pale +tints of her corset and her long bare arms. The bodice lay like a +trifling fragment on the blue-green eiderdown of her bed, a pair of +satin shoes glistened in front of the fire, and two chairs bore the +discarded finery of the day. The dressing-table was littered with +silver and ivory. A faint and charming odour of violets mingled +mysteriously with the warmth of the fire as Leonora moved away from +the pier-glass between the two curtained windows where the light +was centred, and with accustomed hands picked up the bodice +apparently so frail that a touch might have ruined it.</p> +<p><a name='Page144' id="Page144"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>144</span>The door was brusquely opened, and some one +entered.</p> +<p>'Not dressed, Rose?' said Leonora, a little startled. 'We ought +to be going in ten minutes.'</p> +<p>'Oh, mother! I mustn't go. I mustn't really!'</p> +<p>The tall slightly-stooping girl, with her flat figure, her plain +shabby serge frock, her tired white face, and the sinister glance +of the idealist in her great, fretful eyes, seemed to stand there +and accuse the whole of Leonora's existence. Utterly absorbed in +the imminent examination, her brain a welter of sterile facts, Rose +found all the seriousness of life in dates, irregular participles, +algebraic symbols, chemical formulas, the altitudes of mountains, +and the areas of inland seas. To the cruelty of the too earnest +enthusiast she added the cruelty of youth, and it was with a +merciless justice that she judged everyone with whom she came into +opposition.</p> +<p>'But, my dear, you'll be ill if you keep on like this. And you +know what your father said.'</p> +<p>Rose smiled, bitterly superior, at the misguided creature whose +horizons were bounded by domesticity on one side and by dress on +the other.</p> +<p>'I shall not be ill, mother,' she said firmly, sniffing at the +scent in the room. 'I can't help it. I must work at my chemistry +again to-night. <a name='Page145' id="Page145"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>145</span>Father knows perfectly well that chemistry is +my weak point. I must work. I just came in to tell you.'</p> +<p>She departed slowly, as it were daring her mother to protest +further.</p> +<p>Leonora sighed, overpowered by a feeling of impotence. What +could she do, what could any person do, when challenged by an +individuality at once so harsh and so impassioned? She finished her +toilette with minute care, but she had lost her pleasure in it. The +sense of the contrariety of things deepened in her. She looked +round the circle of her environment and saw hope and gladness +nowhere. John's affairs were perhaps running more smoothly, but who +could tell? The shameful fact that the house was mortgaged remained +always with her. And she was intimately conscious of a soilure, a +moral stain, as the result of her recent contacts with the man of +business in her husband. Why had she not been able to keep +femininely aloof from those puzzling and repellent matters, +ignorant of them, innocent of them? And Ethel, too! Twelve days of +the office had culminated for Ethel in a slight illness, which +Doctor Hawley described as lack of tone. Her father had said airily +that she must resume her clerkship in due season, but the entire +household well knew that she would not do so, and that the <a name= +'Page146' id="Page146"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>146</span>experiment was one of the failures which +invariably followed John's interference in domestic concerns. As +for Milly's housekeeping, it was an admitted absurdity. Millicent +had lived of late solely for the opera, and John resented any +preoccupation which detached the girls' interest from their home. +When Ethel recovered in the nick of time to attend the final +rehearsals, he grew sarcastic, and irrelevantly made cutting +remarks about the letter from Paris which Ethel had never +translated and which she thought he had forgotten. Finally he said +he probably could not go to the opera at all, and that at best he +might look in at it for half an hour. He was careful to disclaim +all interest in the performance.</p> +<p>Carpenter had driven the two girls to the Town Hall at seven +o'clock, and at a quarter to eight he returned to fetch his +mistress. Enveloped in her fur cloak, Leonora climbed silently into +the cart.</p> +<p>'I did hear,' said Carpenter, respectfully gossiping, 'as Mr. +Twemlow was gone back to America; but I seed him yesterday as I was +coming back from taking the mester to that there manufacturers' +meeting at Knype.... Wonderful like his mother he is, mum.'</p> +<p>'Oh, indeed!' said Leonora.</p> +<p>Her first impatient querulous thought was <a name='Page147' id= +"Page147"></a><span class='pagenum'>147</span>that she would have +preferred Mr. Twemlow to be in America.</p> +<p>The illuminated windows of the Town Hall, and the knot of +excited people at the principal portico, gave her a sort of +preliminary intimation that the eternal quest for romance was still +active on earth, though she might have abandoned it. In the +corridor she met Uncle Meshach, wearing an antique frock-coat. His +eye caught hers with quiet satisfaction. There was no sign in his +wrinkled face of their last interview.</p> +<p>'Your aunt's not very well,' he answered her inquiry. 'She +wasn't equal to coming, she said. I bid her go to bed. So I'm all +alone.'</p> +<p>'Come and sit by me,' Leonora suggested. 'I have two spare +tickets.'</p> +<p>'Nay, I think not,' he faintly protested.</p> +<p>'Yes, do,' she said, 'you must.'</p> +<p>As his trembling thin hands stole away her cloak, disclosing the +perfection and dark magnificence of her toilette, and as she +perceived in his features the admiration of a connoisseur, and in +the eyes of other women envy and astonishment, she began to forget +her despondencies. She lived again. She believed again in the +possibility of joy. And perhaps it was not strange that her thought +travelled at once to Ethel—Ethel whom she had not questioned +further about her lover, <a name='Page148' id= +"Page148"></a><span class='pagenum'>148</span>Ethel whom till then +she had figured as the wretched victim of love, but whom now she +saw wistfully as love's elect.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>The front seats of the auditorium were filled with all that was +dashing, and much that was solidly serious, in Bursley. Hoarded +wealth, whose religion was spotless kitchens and cash down, sat +side by side with flightiness and the habit of living by credit on +rather more than one's income. The members of the Society had +exerted themselves in advance to impress upon the public mind that +the entertainment would be nothing if not fashionable and +brilliant; and they had succeeded. There was not a single young +man, and scarcely an old one, but wore evening-dress, and the +frocks of the women made a garden of radiant blossoms. Supreme +among the eminent dandies who acted as stewards in that part of the +house was Harry Burgess, straight out of Conduit Street, W., with a +mien plainly indicating that every reserved seat had been sold two +days before. From the second seats the sterling middle classes, +half envy and half disdain, examined the glittering ostentation in +front of them; they had no illusions concerning it; their knowledge +of financial realities was exact. Up in the gloom of the balcony +the crowded faces of <a name='Page149' id= +"Page149"></a><span class='pagenum'>149</span>the unimportant and +the obscure rose tier above tier to the organ-loft. Here was +Florence Gardner, come incognito to deride; here was Fred Ryley, +thief of an evening's time; and here were sundry dressmakers who +experienced the thrill of the creative artist as they gazed at +their confections below.</p> +<p>The entire audience was nervous, critical, and excited: partly +because nearly every unit of it boasted a relative or an intimate +friend in the Society, and partly because, as an entity +representing the town, it had the trepidations natural to a mother +who is about to hear her child say a piece at a party. It hoped, +but it feared. If any outsider had remarked that the youthful +Bursley Operatic Society could not expect even to approach the +achievements of its remarkable elder sister at Hanbridge, the +audience would have chafed under that invidious suggestion. +Nevertheless it could not believe that its native talent would be +really worth hearing. And yet rumours of a surprising excellence +were afloat. The excitement was intensified by the tuning of +instruments in the orchestra, by certain preliminary experiments of +a too anxious gasman, and most of all by a delay in beginning.</p> +<p>At length the Mayor entered, alone; the interesting absence of +the Mayoress had some <a name='Page150' id= +"Page150"></a><span class='pagenum'>150</span>connection with a +silver cradle that day ordered from Birmingham as a civic gift.</p> +<p>'Well, Burgess,' the Mayor whispered benevolently, 'what sort of +a show are we to have?'</p> +<p>'You will see, Mr. Mayor,' said Harry, whose confident smile +expressed the spirit of the Society.</p> +<p>Then the conductor—the man to whom twenty instrumentalists +and thirty singers looked for guidance, help, encouragement, and +the nullifying of mistakes otherwise disastrous; the man on whose +nerve and animating enthusiasm depended the reputation of the +Society and of Bursley—tapped his baton and stilled the +chatter of the audience with a glance. The footlights went up, the +lights of the chandelier went down, and almost before any one was +aware of the fact the overture had commenced. There could be no +withdrawal now; the die was cast; the boats were burnt. In the +artistic history of Bursley a decisive moment had arrived.</p> +<p>In a very few seconds people began to realise, slowly, timidly, +but surely, that after all they were listening to a real orchestra. +The mere volume of sound startled them; the verve and decision of +the players filled them with confidence; the bright grace of the +well-known airs laid them <a name='Page151' id= +"Page151"></a><span class='pagenum'>151</span>under a spell. They +looked diffidently at each other, as if to say: 'This is not so +bad, you know.' And when the finale was reached, with its +prodigious succession of crescendos, and its irresistible melody +somehow swimming strongly through a wild sea of tone, the audience +forgot its pose of critical aloofness and became unaffectedly +human. The last three bars of the overture were smothered in +applause.</p> +<p>The conductor, as pale as though he had seen a ghost, turned and +bowed stiffly. 'Put that in your pipe and smoke it,' his unrelaxing +features said to the audience; and also: 'If you have ever heard +the thing better played in the Five Towns, be good enough to inform +me where!'</p> +<p>There was a hesitation, the brief murmur of a hidden voice, and +the curtains of the fit-up stage swung apart and disclosed the +roseate environs of Castle Bunthorne, ornamented by those famous +maidens who were dying for love of its æsthetic owner. The +audience made no attempt to grasp the situation of the characters +until it had satisfactorily settled the private identity of each. +That done, it applied itself to the sympathetic comprehension of +the feelings of a dozen young women who appeared to spend their +whole existence in statuesque poses and <a name='Page152' id= +"Page152"></a><span class='pagenum'>152</span>plaintive but +nonsensical lyricism. It failed, honestly; and even when the action +descended from song to banal dialogue, it was not reassured. +'Silly' was the unspoken epithet on a hundred tongues, despite the +delicate persuasion of the music, the virginal charm of the +maidens, and the illuminated richness of costumes and scene. The +audience understood as little of the operatic convention as of the +æstheticism caricatured in the roseate environs of Castle +Bunthorne. A number of people present had never been in a theatre, +either for lack of opportunity or from a moral objection to +theatres. Many others, who seldom missed a melodrama at the +Hanbridge Theatre Royal, avoided operas by virtue of the infallible +instinct which caused them to recoil from anything exotic enough to +disturb the calm of their lifelong mental lethargy. As for the +minority which was accustomed to opera, including the still smaller +minority which had seen <i>Patience</i> itself, it assumed the +right that evening critically to examine the convention anew, to +reconsider it unintimidated by the crushing prestige of the Savoy +or of D'Oyly Carte's No. 1 Touring Company. And for the most part +it found in the convention small basis of common sense.</p> +<p>Then Patience appeared on the eminence. <a name='Page153' id= +"Page153"></a><span class='pagenum'>153</span>She was a dairymaid, +and she could not understand the philosophy prevalent in the +roseate environs of Castle Bunthorne. The audience hailed her with +joy and relief. The dairymaid and her costume were pretty in a +familiar way which it could appreciate. She was extremely young, +adorably impudent, airy, tripping, and supple as a circus-rider. +She had marvellous confidence. 'We are friends, are we not, you and +I?' her gestures seemed to say to the audience. And with the utmost +complacency she gazed at herself in the eyes of the audience as in +a mirror. Her opening song renewed the triumph of the overture. It +was recognisably a ballad, and depended on nothing external for its +effectiveness. It gave the bewildered listeners something to take +hold of, and in return for this gift they acclaimed and continued +to acclaim. Milly glanced coolly at the conductor, who winked back +his permission, and the next moment the Bursley Operatic Society +tasted the delight of its first encore. The pert fascinations of +the heroine, the bravery of the Colonel and his guards, the +clowning of Bunthorne, combined with the continuous seduction of +the music and the scene, very quickly induced the audience to +accept without reserve this amazing intrigue of logical absurdities +which was being unrolled before it. The opera <a name='Page154' id= +"Page154"></a><span class='pagenum'>154</span>ceased to appear +preposterous; the convention had won, and the audience had lost. +Small slips in delivery were unnoticed, big ones condoned, and +nervousness encouraged to depart. The performance became a +homogeneous whole, in which the excellence of the best far more +than atoned for the clumsy mediocrity of the worst. When the +curtains fell amid storms of applause and cut off the stage, the +audience perceived suddenly, like a revelation, that the young men +and women whom it knew so well in private life had been creating +something—an illusion, an ecstasy, a mood—which +transcended the sum total of their personalities. It was this +miracle, but dimly apprehended perhaps, which left the audience +impressed, and eager for the next act.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'That madam will go her own road,' said Uncle Meshach under +cover of the clapping.</p> +<p>Leonora's smile was embarrassed. 'What do you mean?' she asked +him.</p> +<p>He bent his head towards her, looking into her face with a sort +of generous cynicism.</p> +<p>'I mean she'll go her own road,' he repeated.</p> +<p>And then, observing that most of the men were leaving their +seats, he told Leonora that he should step across to the Tiger if +she would let him. As he passed out, leaning forward on a <a name= +'Page155' id="Page155"></a><span class='pagenum'>155</span>stick +lightly clutched in the left hand, several people demanded his +opinion about the spectacle. 'Nay, nay——' he replied +again and again, waving one after another out of his course.</p> +<p>In the bar-parlour of the Tiger, the young blades, the genuine +fast men, the deliberate middle-aged persons who took one glass +only, and the regular nightly customers, mingled together in a +dense and noisy crowd under a canopy of smoke. The barmaid and her +assistant enjoyed their brief minutes of feverish contact with the +great world. Behind the counter, walled in by a rampart of +dress-shirts, they conjured with bottles, glasses, and taps, heard +and answered ten men at once, reckoned change by a magic beyond +arithmetic, peered between shoulders to catch the orders of their +particular friends, and at the same time acquired detailed +information as to the progress of the opera. Late comers who, +forcing a way into the room, saw the multitude of men drinking and +smoking, and the unapproachable white faces of these two girls +distantly flowering in the haze and the odour, had that saturnalian +sensation of seeing life which is peculiar to saloons during the +entr'actes of theatrical entertainments. The success of the opera, +and of that chit Millicent Stanway, formed the staple of the eager +conversation, though here and there a sober <a name='Page156' id= +"Page156"></a><span class='pagenum'>156</span>couple would be +discussing the tramcars or the quinquennial assessment exactly as +if Gilbert and Sullivan had never been born. It appeared that Milly +had a future, that she was the best Patience yet seen in the +district amateur <i>or</i> professional, that any burlesque manager +would jump at her, that in five years, if she liked, she might be +getting a hundred a week, and that Dolly Chose, the idol of the +Tivoli and the Pavilion, had not half her style. It also appeared +that Milly had no brains of her own, that the leading man had +taught her all her business, that her voice was thin and a trifle +throaty, that she was too vulgar for the true Savoy tradition, and +that in five years she would have gone off to nothing. But the +optimists carried the argument. Sundry men who had seen Meshach in +the second row of the stalls expressed a keen desire to ask the old +bachelor point-blank what he thought of his nephew's daughter; but +Meshach did not happen to come into the Tiger.</p> +<p>When the crowd had thinned somewhat, Harry Burgess entered +hurriedly and called for a whisky and potass, which the barmaid, +who fancied him, served on the instant.</p> +<p>'I wanted to get a wreath,' he confided to her. 'But Pointon's +is closed.'</p> +<p>'Why, Mr. Burgess,' she said smiling, <a name='Page157' id= +"Page157"></a><span class='pagenum'>157</span>'there's a lot of +flowers in the coffee-room, and with them and the leaves off that +laurel down the yard, and a bit of wire, I could make you one in no +time.'</p> +<p>'Can you?' He seemed doubtful.</p> +<p>'Can I!' she exclaimed. 'I should think I could, and a beauty! +As soon as these gentleman are gone——'</p> +<p>'It's awfully kind of you,' said Harry, brightening. 'Can you +send it round to me at the artists' entrance in half an hour?'</p> +<p>She nodded, beaming at the prospect. The manufacture of that +wreath would be a source of colloquial gratification to her for +days.</p> +<p>Harry politely responded to such remarks as 'Devilish good show, +Burgess,' drank in one gulp another whisky and potass, and hastened +away. The remainder of the company soon followed; the barmaid +disappeared from the bar, and her assistant was left languidly to +watch a solitary pair of topers who would certainly not leave till +the clock showed eleven.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>The auditorium during the entr'acte was more ceremonious, but +not less noisy, than the bar-parlour of the Tiger. The pleasant +warmth, the sudden increase of light after the fall of the curtain, +the certainty of a success, and the <a name='Page158' id= +"Page158"></a><span class='pagenum'>158</span>consciousness of +sharing in the brilliance of that success—all these things +raised the spirits, and produced the loquacity of an intoxication. +The individuality of each person was set free from its customary +prison and joyously displayed its best side to the company. The +universal chatter amounted to a din.</p> +<p>But Leonora, cut off by empty seats on either hand, sat silent. +She was glad to be able to do so. She would have liked to be at +home in solitude, to think. For she was, if not unhappy, at any +rate disturbed and dubious. She felt embarrassed amid this glare +and this bright murmur of conversation, as though she were being +watched, discussed, and criticised. She was the mother of the star, +responsible for the star, guilty of all the star's indiscretions. +And it was a timorous, reluctant pride which she took in her +daughter's success. The truth was that Milly had astonished and +frightened her. When Ethel and Milly were allowed to join the +Society, the possible results of the permission had not been +foreseen. Both Leonora and John had thought of the girls as modest +members of the chorus in an affair unmistakably and confessedly +amateur. Ethel had kept within the anticipation. But here was Milly +an actress, exploiting herself with unconstrained gestures and arch +glances and twirlings of her <a name='Page159' id= +"Page159"></a><span class='pagenum'>159</span>short skirt, to a +crowded and miscellaneous audience. Leonora did not like it; her +susceptibilities were outraged. She blushed at this amazing public +contradiction of Milly's bringing-up. It seemed to her as if she +had never known the real Milly, and knew her now for the first +time. What would the other mothers think? What would all Hillport +think secretly, and say openly behind the backs of the Stanways? +The girl was as innocent as a fawn, she had the free grace of +extreme youth; no one could utter a word against her. But she was +rouged, her lips were painted, several times she had shown her +knees, and she seemed incapable of shyness. She was at home on the +stage, she faced a thousand people with a pert, a brazen attitude, +and said, 'Look at me; enjoy me, as I enjoy your fervent glances; I +am here to tickle your fancy.' Patience! She was no more Patience +than she was Sister Dora or a heroine of Charlotte Yonge's. She was +the eternal unashamed doll, who twists 'men' round her little +finger, and smiles on them, always with an instinct for +finance.</p> +<p>'Quite a score for Milly!' said a polite voice in Leonora's ear. +It was Mrs. Burgess, who sat in the next row.</p> +<p>'Do you think so?' Leonora replied, perceptibly reddening.</p> +<p><a name='Page160' id="Page160"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>160</span>'Oh, yes!' said Mrs. Burgess with smooth +insistence. 'And dear Ethel is very sweet in the chorus, too.'</p> +<p>Leonora tried to fix her thoughts on the grateful figure of +mild, nervous, passionate Ethel, the child of her deepest +affection.</p> +<p>She turned sharply. Arthur Twemlow was standing in the shadow of +the side-aisle near the door. She knew he was there before her eyes +saw him. He was evidently rather at a loss, unnoticed, and +irresolute. He caught sight of her and bowed. She said to herself +that she wished to be alone in her embarrassment, that she could +not bear to talk to any one; nevertheless, she raised her finger, +and beckoned to him, while striving hard to refrain from doing so. +He approached at once. 'He is not in America,' she reflected in +sudden agitation, 'He is here, actually here. In an instant we +shall speak.'</p> +<p>'I quite understood you had gone back to New York,' she said, +looking at him, as he stood in front of her, with the upward +feminine appealing gesture that men love.</p> +<p>'What!' he exclaimed. 'Without saying good-bye? No! And how are +you all? It seems just about a year since I saw you last.'</p> +<p>'All well, thanks,' she said, smiling. 'Won't you sit here? It's +John's seat, but he isn't coming.'</p> +<p><a name='Page161' id="Page161"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>161</span>'Then you are alone?' He seemed to apologise +for the rest of his sex.</p> +<p>She told him that Uncle Meshach was with her, and would return +directly. When he asked how the opera was going, and she learnt +that, being detained at Knype, he had not seen the first act, she +was relieved. He would make the discovery concerning Millicent +gradually, and by her side; it was better so, she +thought—less disconcerting. In a slight pause of their talk +she was startled to feel her heart beating like a hammer against +her corsage. Her eyes had brightened. She conversed rapidly, +pleased to be talking, pleased at his sympathetic responsiveness, +ignoring the audience, and also forgetting the uneasy +preoccupations of her recent solitude. The men returned from the +Tiger and elsewhere, all except Uncle Meshach. The lights were +lowered. The conductor's stick curtly demanded silence and +attention. She sank back in her seat.</p> +<p>'A peremptory conductor!' remarked Twemlow in a whisper.</p> +<p>'Yes,' she laughed. And this simple exchange of thought, +effected, as it were, surreptitiously in the gloom and contrary to +the rules, gave her a distinct sensation of joy.</p> +<p>Then began, in Bursley Town Hall, a scene <a name='Page162' id= +"Page162"></a><span class='pagenum'>162</span>similar to the scenes +which have rendered famous the historic stages of European +capitals. The verve and personal charm of a young +<i>débutante</i> determined to triumph, and the enthusiasm +of an audience proudly conscious that it was making a reputation, +reacted upon and intensified each other to such a degree that the +atmosphere became electric, delirious, magical. Not a soul in the +auditorium or on the stage but what lived consummately during those +minutes—some creatively, like the conductor and Millicent; +some agonised with jealousy, like Florence Gardner and a few of the +chorus; one maternally in tumultuous distress of spirit; and the +great naïve mass yielding with rapture to a sensuous +spell.</p> +<p>The outstanding defect in the libretto of <i>Patience</i> is the +decentralisation of interest in the second act. The alert ones who +remembered that in that act the heroine has only one song, and +certain passages of dialogue not remarkable for dramatic force, had +predicted that Millicent would inevitably lose ground as the +evening advanced. They were, however, deceived. Her delivery of the +phrase 'I am miserable beyond description' brought the house down +by its coquettish artificiality; and the renowned ballad, 'Love is +a plaintive song,' established her unforgettably in the affections +of the audience. Her 'exit weep<a name='Page163' id= +"Page163"></a><span class='pagenum'>163</span>ing' was a tremendous +stroke, though all knew that she meant them to see that these tears +were simply a delightful pretence. The opera came to a standstill +while she responded to an imperative call. She bowed, laughing, and +then, suddenly affecting to cry again, ran off, with the result +that she had to return.</p> +<p>'D——n it! She hasn't got much to learn, has she?' +the conductor murmured to the first violin, a professional from +Manchester.</p> +<p>But her greatest efforts she reserved for the difficult and +critical prose conversations which now alone remained to her, those +dialogues which seem merely to exist for the purpose of separating +the numbers allotted to all the other principals. It was as though, +during the entr'acte, surrounded by the paint-pots, the intrigues, +and the wild confusion of the dressing-room, Millicent had been +able to commune with herself, and to foresee and take arms against +the peril of an anti-climax. By sheer force, ingenuity, vivacity, +flippancy, and sauciness, she lifted her lines to the level, and +above the level, of the rest of the piece. She carried the audience +with her; she knew it; all her colleagues knew it, and if they +chafed they chafed in secret. The performance went better and +better as the end approached. The audience had long since ceased to +notice defects; only the <a name='Page164' id= +"Page164"></a><span class='pagenum'>164</span>conductor, the +leader, and a few discerning members of the troupe were aware that +a catastrophe had been escaped by pure luck two minutes before the +descent of the curtains.</p> +<p>And at that descent the walls of the Town Hall, which had echoed +to political tirades, the solemn recitatives of oratorios, the +mercantile uproar of bazaars, the banal compliments of +prize-givings, the arid utterances of lecturers on science and art, +and the moans of sinners stricken with a sense of guilt at +religious revivals—those walls resounded to a gay and +frenzied ovation which is memorable in the town for its ungoverned +transports of approval. The Operatic Society as a whole was first +acclaimed, all the performers posing in rank on the stage. Then, as +the deafening applause showed no sign of diminution, the curtains +were drawn back instead of being raised again, and the principals, +beginning with the humblest, paraded in pairs in front of the +footlights. Milly and her fortunate cavalier came last. The +cavalier advanced two paces, took Milly's hand, signed to her to +cross over, and retired. The child was left solitary on the +stage—solitary, but unabashed, glowing with delight, and +smiling as pertly as ever. The leader of the orchestra stood up and +handed her a wreath, which she accepted like an oath of fealty; and +the wreath, hurriedly manu<a name='Page165' id= +"Page165"></a><span class='pagenum'>165</span>factured by the +barmaid of the Tiger out of some cut flowers and the old laurel +tree in the Tiger yard, became, when Milly grasped it, a mysterious +and impressive symbol. Many persons in the audience wanted to cry +as they beheld this vision of the proud, confident, triumphant +child holding the wreath, while the fierce upward ray of the +footlights illuminated her small chin and her quivering nostrils. +She tripped off backwards, with a gesture of farewell. The applause +continued. Would she return? Not if the ferocious jealousies behind +could have paralysed her as she hesitated in the wings. But the +world was on her side that night; she responded again, she kissed +her hands to her world, and disappeared still kissing them; and the +evening was finished.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'Well,' said Twemlow calmly, 'I guess you've got an actress in +the family.'</p> +<p>Leonora and he remained in their seats, waiting till the press +of people in the aisles should have thinned, and also, so far as +Leonora was concerned, to avoid the necessity of replying to +remarks about Milly. The atmosphere was still charged with +excitement, but Leonora observed that Arthur Twemlow did not share +it. Though he had applauded vigorously, there had been no trace of +emotional transport in his demeanour. <a name='Page166' id= +"Page166"></a><span class='pagenum'>166</span>He spoke at once, +immediately the lights were turned up, giving her no chance to +collect herself.</p> +<p>'But do you think so?' she said. She remembered she had made the +same foolish reply to Mrs. Burgess. With Twemlow she wished to be +unconventional and sincere, but she could not succeed.</p> +<p>'Don't you?' He seemed to regard the situation as rather +amusing.</p> +<p>'You surely can't mean that she would <i>do</i> for the +stage?'</p> +<p>'Ask any one here whether she isn't born for it,' he +answered.</p> +<p>'This is only an amateurs' affair,' Leonora argued.</p> +<p>'And she's only an amateur. But she won't be an amateur +long.'</p> +<p>'But a girl like Milly can't be clever enough——'</p> +<p>'It depends on what you call clever. She's got the gift of +making the audience hug itself. You'll see.'</p> +<p>'See Milly on the stage?' Leonora asked uneasily. 'I hope +not.'</p> +<p>'Why, my dear lady? Isn't she built for it? Doesn't she enjoy +it? Isn't she at home there? What's the matter with the stage +anyhow?'</p> +<p><a name='Page167' id="Page167"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>167</span>'Her father would never hear of such a thing,' +said Leonora. Towards the close of the opera she had seen John, in +morning attire, propped against a side-wall and peering at the +stage and his daughter with a bewildered, bored, unsympathetic +air.</p> +<p>'Ah!' Twemlow ejaculated grimly.</p> +<p>A moment later, as he was putting her cloak over her shoulders, +he said in a different, kinder, more soothing tone: 'I guess I know +just how you feel.'</p> +<p>She looked at him, raising her eyebrows, and smiling with +melancholy amusement.</p> +<p>In the corridor, Stanway came hurrying up to them, obviously +excited.</p> +<p>'Oh, you're here, Nora!' he burst out. 'I've been hunting for +you everywhere. I've just been told that a messenger came for Uncle +Meshach a the interval to say that Aunt Hannah was ill. Do you know +anything about it?'</p> +<p>'No,' she said. 'Uncle only told me that aunt wasn't equal to +coming. I wondered where uncle had got to.'</p> +<p>'Well,' Stanway continued, 'you'd better go to Church Street at +once, and see after things.'</p> +<p>Leonora seemed to hesitate.</p> +<p>'As quick as you can,' he said with irritation and increasing +excitement. 'Don't waste a moment. <a name='Page168' id= +"Page168"></a><span class='pagenum'>168</span>It may be serious. +I'll drive the girls home, and then I'll come and fetch you.'</p> +<p>'If Mrs. Stanway cares, I will walk down with her,' said Arthur +Twemlow.</p> +<p>'Yes, do, Twemlow, there's a good chap,' he welcomed the idea. +And with that he wafted them impulsively into the street.</p> +<p>Then Stanway stood waiting by his equipage for Ethel and Milly. +He spoke to no one, but examined the harness critically, and put +some curt question to Carpenter about the breeching. It was a +chilly night, and the glare of the lamps showed that Prince steamed +a little under his rug. Ten minutes elapsed before Ethel came.</p> +<p>'Here we are, father,' she said with pleasant satisfaction. +'Where's mother?'</p> +<p>'I should think so!' he returned. 'The horse taking cold, and me +waiting and waiting. Your mother's had to go to Aunt Hannah's. +What's become of Milly?' He was losing his temper.</p> +<p>Milly had to traverse the whole length of the corridor. The +Mayor heartily congratulated her. The middle-aged violinist from +Manchester spoke to her amiably as one public artist to another, +and the conductor, who was with him, told her, in an unusual and +indiscreet mood of candour, that she had simply made the show. +Others expressed <a name='Page169' id="Page169"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>169</span>the same thought in more words. Near the +entrance stood Harry Burgess, patently expectant. He was flushed, +and looked handsomely dandiacal and rakish as he rolled a cigarette +in those quick fingers of his. He meant to explain to her that the +happy idea of the wreath was his own.</p> +<p>He accosted her unceremoniously, confidently, but she drew away, +with a magnificent touch of haughtiness.</p> +<p>'Good-night, Harry,' she said coldly, and passed on.</p> +<p>The rash and conceited boy had not divined, as he should have +done, that a prima donna is a prima donna, whether on the stage in +a brilliant costume, or traversing a dingy corridor in the plain +blue serge and simple hat of a manufacturer's daughter aged +eighteen. Offering no reply to her formal salutation, he remained +quite still for a moment, and then swaggered off to the Tiger.</p> +<p>'Look here, my girl,' said Stanway furiously to his youngest. +'Do you suppose we're going to wait for you all night? Jump +in.'</p> +<p>Milly's lips did not move, but she faced the rude blusterer with +a frigid, angry, insolent gaze. And her girlish eyes said: 'You've +got me under your thumb now, you horrid beast! But never mind! Long +after you are dead and buried and rotten, I shall be famous and +pretty <a name='Page170' id="Page170"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>170</span>and rich, and if you are remembered it will +only be because you were my father. Do your worst, odious man; you +can't kill me!'</p> +<p>And all the way home the cruel, just, unmerciful thoughts of +insulted youth mingled with the generous and beautiful sensations +of her triumph.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'Nay, it's all over,' said Meshach when Twemlow and Leonora +entered.</p> +<p>'What!' Leonora exclaimed, glancing quickly at Arthur Twemlow as +if for support in a crisis.</p> +<p>'Doctor's gone but just this minute. Her's gotten over it.'</p> +<p>For a moment she had thought that Aunt Hannah was dead. John's +anxious excitement had communicated itself to her; she had imagined +the worst possibilities. Now the sensation of relief took her +unawares, and she was obliged to sit down suddenly.</p> +<p>In the little parlour wizened Meshach sat by the hob as he +always sat, warming one hand at the fire, and looking round +sideways at the tall visitors in their rich evening attire. Leonora +heard Twemlow say something about a heart attack, and the thick +hard veins on Aunt Hannah's wrist.</p> +<p><a name='Page171' id="Page171"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>171</span>'Ay!' Meshach went on, employing the old +dialect, a sign with him of unusual agitation. 'I brought Dr. +Hawley with me, he was at yon show. And when us got here Hannah was +lying on th' floor, just there, with her head on this 'ere +hearthrug. Susan, th' woman, told us as th' missis said she felt as +if she were falling down, and then down her falls. She was staring +hard at th' ceiling, with eyes fit to burst, and her face as white +as a sheet. Doctor lifts her up and puts her in a chair. Bless us! +How her did gasp! And her lips were blue. "Hannah!" I says. Her +heard but her couldna' answer. Her limbs were all of a tremble. +Then her sighed, and fetched up a long breath or two. "Where am I, +Meshach?" her says, "what's amiss?" Doctor told her for stick her +tongue out, and her could do that, and he put a candle to her eyes. +Her's in bed now. Susan's sitting with her.'</p> +<p>'I'll go up and see if I can do anything,' said Leonora, +rising.</p> +<p>'No,' Meshach stopped her. 'You'll happen excite her. Doctor +said her was to go to sleep, and he's to send in a soothing +draught. There's no danger—not now—not till next time. +Her mun take care, mun Hannah.'</p> +<p>'Then it is the heart?' Leonora asked.</p> +<p><a name='Page172' id="Page172"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>172</span>'Ay! It's the heart.'</p> +<p>Twemlow and Leonora sat silent, embarrassed in the little +parlour with its antimacassars, its stiff chairs, its high +mantelpiece, and the glass partition which seemed to swallow up +like a pit the rays from the hissing gas-jet over the table. The +image of the diminutive frail creature concealed upstairs obsessed +them, and Leonora felt guilty because she had been unwittingly +absorbed in the gaiety of the opera while Aunt Hannah was in such +danger.</p> +<p>'I doubt I munna' tap that again,' Meshach remarked with a short +dry plaintive laugh, pointing to the pewter platter on the +mantelpiece by means of which he was accustomed to summon his +sister when he wanted her.</p> +<p>The visitors looked at each other; Leonora's eyes were +moist.</p> +<p>'But isn't there anything I can do, uncle?' she demanded.</p> +<p>'I'll see if her's asleep. Sit thee still,' said Meshach, and he +crept out of the room, and up the creaking stair.</p> +<p>'Poor old fellow!' Twemlow murmured, glancing at his watch.</p> +<p>'What time is it?' she asked, for the sake of saying something. +'It's no use me staying.'</p> +<p>'Five to eleven. If I run off at once I can <a name='Page173' +id="Page173"></a><span class='pagenum'>173</span>catch the last +train. Good-night. Tell Mr. Myatt, will you?'</p> +<p>She took his hand with a feeling of intimacy.</p> +<p>It seemed to her that they had shared many emotions that +night.</p> +<p>'I'll let you out,' she suggested, and in the obscurity of the +narrow lobby they came into contact and shook hands again; she +could not at first find the upper latch of the door,</p> +<p>'I shall be seeing you all soon,' he said in a low voice, on the +step. She nodded and closed the door softly.</p> +<p>She thought how simple, agreeable, reliable, honest, +good-natured, and sympathetic he was.</p> +<p>'Her's sleeping like a babby,' Meshach stated, returning to the +parlour. He lighted his pipe, and through the smoke looked at +Leonora in her dark magnificent dress.</p> +<p>Then John arrived, pompous and elaborately calm; but he had +driven Prince to Hillport and back in twenty-five minutes. John +listened to the recital of events.</p> +<p>'You're sure there's no danger now?' He could disguise neither +his present relief nor his fear for the future.</p> +<p>'Thou'rt all right yet, nephew,' said Meshach with an ironic +inflection, as he gazed into the dying fire. 'Her may live another +ten year. <a name='Page174' id="Page174"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>174</span>And I might flit to-morrow. Thou'rt too +anxious, my lad. Keep it down.'</p> +<p>John, deeply offended, made no reply.</p> +<p>'Why shouldn't I be anxious?' he exclaimed angrily as they drove +home. 'Whose fault is it if I am? Does he expect me not to be?'</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page175' id="Page175"></a><span class='pagenum'>175</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII' id="CHAPTER_VII"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>THE DEPARTURE</h3> +<p>As I approach the crisis in Leonora's life, I hesitate, fearing +lest by an unfit phrase I should deprive her of your sympathies, +and fearing also that this fear may incline me to set down less +than the truth about her.</p> +<p>She was possessed by a mysterious sensation of content. She +wished to lie supine—except in her domestic affairs—and +to dream that all was well or would be well. It was as though she +had determined that nothing could extinguish or even disturb the +mild flame of happiness which burned placidly within her. And yet +the anxieties of her existence were certainly increasing again. On +the morning after the opera, John had departed on one of his sudden +flying visits to London; these journeys, formerly frequent, had +been in abeyance for a time, and their resumption seemed to point +to some renewal of his difficulties. He had called at Church Street +on his way to Knype, and Carpenter had brought back word that Miss +<a name='Page176' id="Page176"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>176</span>Myatt was wonderfully better; but when Leonora +herself called at Church Street later in the morning and at last +saw Aunt Hannah, she was impressed by the change in the old +creature, whose nervous system had the appearance of being utterly +disorganised. Then there was the difficult case of Ethel and Fred +Ryley, in which Leonora had done nothing whatever; and there was +the case of Rose, whose alienation from the rest of the household +became daily more marked. Finally there was the new and portentous +case of Millicent, probably the most disconcerting of the three. +Nevertheless, amid all these solicitudes, Leonora remained equable, +optimistic, and quietly joyous. Her state of mind, so miraculously +altered in a few hours, gave her no surprise. It seemed natural; +everything seemed natural; she ceased for a period to waste emotion +in the futile desire for her lost youth.</p> +<p>On the second day after the opera she was sitting at her +Sheraton desk in the small nondescript room which opened off the +dining-room. In front of her lay a large tablet with innumerable +names of things printed on it in three columns; opposite each name +a little hole had been drilled, and in many of the holes little +sticks of wood stood upright. Leonora uprooted a stick, exiling it +to a long horizontal row of holes at the top of <a name='Page177' +id="Page177"></a><span class='pagenum'>177</span>the tablet, and +then wrote in a pocket-book; she uprooted another stick and wrote +again, so continuing till only a few sticks were left in the +columns; these she spared. Then she rang the bell for the +parlourmaid and relinquished to her the tablet; the peculiar rite +was over.</p> +<p>'Is dinner ready?' she asked, looking at the small clock which +she usually carried about with her from room to room.</p> +<p>'Yes 'm.'</p> +<p>'Then ring the gong. And tell Carpenter I shall want the trap at +a quarter past two, for two. I'm going to shop in Hanbridge and +then to meet Mr. Stanway at Knype. We shall be in before four. Have +some tea ready. And don't forget the eclairs to-day, Bessie.' She +smiled.</p> +<p>'No 'm. Did you think on to write about them new dog-biscuits, +ma'am?'</p> +<p>'I'll write now,' said Leonora, and she turned to the desk.</p> +<p>The gong sounded; the dinner was brought in. Through the doorway +between the two rooms—there was no door, only a +portière—Leonora heard Ethel's rather heavy footsteps. +'I don't think mother will want you to wait to-day, Bessie,' +Ethel's voice said. Then followed, after the maid's exit, the noise +of a dish-cover being lifted and dropped, and Ethel's exclamation: +<a name='Page178' id="Page178"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>178</span>'Um!' And then the voices of Rose and Millicent +approached, in altercation.</p> +<p>'Come along, mother,' Ethel called out.</p> +<p>'Coming,' answered Leonora, putting the note in an envelope.</p> +<p>'The idea!' said Rose's voice scornfully.</p> +<p>'Yes,' retorted Milly's voice. 'The idea.'</p> +<p>Leonora listened as she wrote the address.</p> +<p>'You always were a conceited thing, Milly, and since this +wonderful opera you're positively ridiculous. I almost wish I'd +gone to it now, just to see what you <i>were</i> like.'</p> +<p>'Ah well! You just didn't, and so you don't know.'</p> +<p>'No indeed! I'd got something better to do than watch a pack of +amateurs——' There was a pause for silent contempt.</p> +<p>'Well? Keep it up, keep it up.'</p> +<p>'Anyhow I'm perfectly certain father won't let you go.'</p> +<p>'I shall go.'</p> +<p>'And besides, <i>I</i> want to go to London, and you may be +absolutely certain, my child, that he won't let two of us go.'</p> +<p>'I shall speak to him first.'</p> +<p>'Oh no, you won't.'</p> +<p>'Shan't I? You'll see.'</p> +<p>'No, you won't. Because it just happens <a name='Page179' id= +"Page179"></a><span class='pagenum'>179</span>that I spoke to him +the night before last. And he's making inquiries and he'll tell me +to-night. So what do you think of that?'</p> +<p>Leonora drew aside the portière.</p> +<p>'My dear girls!' she protested benevolently, standing there.</p> +<p>The feud, always apt thus to leap into a perfectly Corsican fury +of bitterness, sank back at once to its ordinary level of passive +mutual repudiation. Rose and Millicent were not bereft of the finer +feelings which distinguish humanity from the beasts of the jungle; +sometimes they could be almost affectionate. There were, however, +moments when to all appearance they hated each other with a +tigerish and crouching hatred such as may be found only between two +opposing feminine temperaments linked together by the family +tie.</p> +<p>'What's this about your going to London, Rosie?' Leonora asked +in a voice soothing but surprised, when the meal had begun.</p> +<p>'You know, mamma. I mentioned it to you the other day.' The +girl's tone implied that what she had said to Leonora perhaps went +in at one ear and out at the other.</p> +<p>Leonora remembered. Rose had in fact casually told her that a +school friend in Oldcastle who was studying for the same +examination as <a name='Page180' id="Page180"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>180</span>herself had gone to London for six weeks' final +coaching under what Rose called a 'lady-crammer.'</p> +<p>'But you didn't tell me that you wanted to go as well,' Leonora +said.</p> +<p>'Yes, mother, I did,' Rose affirmed with calm. 'You forget. I'm +sure I shan't pass if I don't go. So I asked father while you were +all at this opera affair.'</p> +<p>'And what did he say?' Ethel demanded.</p> +<p>'He said he would make inquiries this morning and see.'</p> +<p>Ethel gave a laugh of good-natured derision. 'Yes,' she +exclaimed, 'and you'll see, too!'</p> +<p>In response to this oracular utterance, Rose merely bent lower +over her plate.</p> +<p>Millicent, conscious of a brilliant vocation and of an +impassioned resolve, refrained from the discussion, and the sense +of her ineffable superiority bore hard on that lithe, mercurial +youthfulness. The 'Signal,' in praising Millicent's performance at +the opera, had predicted for her a career, and had thoughtfully +quoted instances of well-born amateurs who had become professionals +and made great names on the stage. Millicent knew that all Bursley +was talking about her. And yet the family life was unaltered; no +one at home seemed to be much impressed, not even Ethel, though +<a name='Page181' id="Page181"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>181</span>Ethel's sympathy could be depended upon; Milly +was still Milly, the youngest, the least important, the chit of a +thing. At times it appeared to her as though the triumph of that +ecstatic and glorious night was after all nothing but an illusion, +and that only the interminable dailiness of family life was real. +Then the ruthless and calculating minx in her shut tight those +pretty lips and coldly determined that nothing should stand against +ambition.</p> +<p>'I do hope you will pass,' said Leonora cordially to Rose. 'You +certainly deserve to.'</p> +<p>'I know I shan't, unless I get some outside help. My brain isn't +that sort of brain. It's another sort. Only one has to knuckle down +to these wretched exams first.'</p> +<p>Leonora did not understand her daughter. She knew, however, that +there was not the slightest chance of Rose being allowed to go to +London alone for any lengthened period, and she wondered that Rose +could be so blind as not to perceive this. As for Millicent's vague +notions, which the child had furtively broached during her father's +absence, the more Leonora thought upon them, the more fantastically +impossible they seemed. She changed the subject.</p> +<p>The repast, which had commenced with due ceremony, degenerated +into a feminine mess, hasty, informal, counterfeit. That elaborate +and <a name='Page182' id="Page182"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>182</span>irksome pretence that a man is present, with +which women when they are alone always begin to eat, was gradually +dropped, and the meal ended abruptly, inconclusively, like a bad +play.</p> +<p>'Let's go for a walk,' said Ethel.</p> +<p>'Yes,' said Milly, 'let's.'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'Mamma!' Milly called from the drawing-room window.</p> +<p>Leonora was walking about the misty garden, where little now +remained that was green, save the yews, the cypresses, and the +rhododendrons; Bran, his white-and-fawn coat glittering with minute +drops of water, plodded heavily and content by her side along the +narrow damp paths. She was dressed for driving, and awaited +Carpenter with the trap.</p> +<p>In reply to Leonora's gesture of attention, Milly, instead of +speaking from the window, ran quickly to her across the sodden +lawn. And Milly's running was so girlish, simple, and unaffected, +that Leonora seemed by means of it to have found her daughter +again, the daughter who had disappeared in the adroit and impudent +creature of the footlights. She was glad of the reassurance.</p> +<p>'Here's Mr. Twemlow, mamma,' said Milly, with a rather +embarrassed air; and they looked <a name='Page183' id= +"Page183"></a><span class='pagenum'>183</span>at each other, while +Bran frowned in glancing upwards.</p> +<p>At the same moment, Arthur Twemlow and Ethel entered the garden +together. The social atmosphere was rendered bracing by this +invasion of the masculine; every personality awoke and became +vigilantly itself.</p> +<p>'We met Mr. Twemlow on the marsh, mother, walking from Oldcastle +to Bursley,' said Ethel, after the ritual of greeting, 'and so we +brought him in.'</p> +<p>As Leonora was on the point of leaving the house, the situation +was somewhat awkward, and a slight hesitation on her part showed +this.</p> +<p>'You're going out?' he said.</p> +<p>'Oh, mamma,' Milly cried quickly, 'do let me go and meet father +instead of you. I want to.'</p> +<p>'What, alone?' Leonora exclaimed in a kind of dream.</p> +<p>'I'll go too,' said Ethel.</p> +<p>'And suppose you have the horse down?'</p> +<p>'Well then, we'll take Carpenter,' Milly suggested. 'I'll run +and tell him to put his overcoat on and put the back-seat in.' And +she scampered off.</p> +<p>Twemlow was fondling the dog with an air of detachment.</p> +<p>In the fraction of an instant, a thousand wild <a name='Page184' +id="Page184"></a><span class='pagenum'>184</span>and disturbing +thoughts swept through Leonora's brain. Was it possible that Arthur +Twemlow had suggested this change of plan to the girls? Or had the +girls already noticed with the keen eyes of youth that she and +Arthur Twemlow enjoyed each other's society, and naïvely +wished to give her pleasure? Would Arthur Twemlow, but for the +accidental encounter on the Marsh, have passed by her home without +calling? If she remained, what conclusion could not be drawn? If +she persisted in going, might not he want to come with her? She was +ashamed of the preposterous inward turmoil.</p> +<p>'And my shopping?' she smiled, blushing.</p> +<p>'Give me the list, mater,' said Ethel, and took the morocco book +out of her hand.</p> +<p>Never before had Leonora felt so helpless in the sudden clutch +of fate. She knew she was a willing prey. She wished to remain, and +politeness to Arthur Twemlow demanded that this wish should not be +disguised. Yet what would she not have given even to have felt +herself able to disguise it?</p> +<p>'How incredibly stupid I am!' she thought.</p> +<p>No sooner had the two girls departed than Twemlow began to +laugh.</p> +<p>'I must tell you,' he said, with candid amusement, 'that this is +a plant. Those two daughters <a name='Page185' id= +"Page185"></a><span class='pagenum'>185</span>of yours calculated +to leave you and me here alone together.'</p> +<p>'Yes?' she murmured, still constrained.</p> +<p>'Miss Milly wants me to talk you round about her going in for +the stage. When I met them on the Marsh, of course I began to pay +her compliments, and I just happened to say I thought she was a +born <i>comédienne</i>, and before I knew it T was +blindfolded, handcuffed, and carried off, so to speak.'</p> +<p>This was the simple, innocent explanation! 'Oh, how incredibly +stupid, stupid, stupid, I was!' she thought again, and a feeling of +exquisite relief surged into her being. Mingled with that relief +was the deep joy of realising that Ethel and Milly fully shared her +instinctive predilection for Arthur Twemlow. Here indeed was the +supreme security.</p> +<p>'I must say my daughters get more and more surprising every +day,' she remarked, impelled to offer some sort of conventional +apology for her children's unconventional behaviour.</p> +<p>'They are charming girls,' he said briefly.</p> +<p>On the surface of her profound relief and joy there played like +a flying fish the thought: 'Was he meaning to call in any case? Was +he on his way here?'</p> +<p>They talked about Aunt Hannah, whom <a name='Page186' id= +"Page186"></a><span class='pagenum'>186</span>Twemlow had seen that +morning and who was improving rapidly. But he agreed with Leonora +that the old lady's vitality had been irretrievably shattered. Then +there was a pause, followed by some remarks on the weather, and +then another pause. Bran, after watching them attentively for a few +moments as they stood side by side near the French window, rose up +from off his haunches, and walked gloomily away.</p> +<p>'Bran, Bran!' Twemlow cried.</p> +<p>'It's no use,' she laughed. 'He's vexed. He thinks he's being +neglected. He'll go to his kennel and nothing will bring him out of +it, except food. Come into the house. It's going to rain +again.'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'Well,' the visitor exclaimed familiarly.</p> +<p>They were seated by the fire in the drawing-room. Leonora was +removing her gloves.</p> +<p>'Well?' she repeated. 'And so you still think Milly ought to be +allowed to go on the stage?'</p> +<p>'I think she <i>will</i> go on the stage,' he said.</p> +<p>'You can't imagine how it upsets me even to think of it.' +Leonora seemed to appeal for his sympathy.</p> +<p>'Oh, yes, I can,' he replied. 'Didn't I tell you the other night +that I knew exactly how you felt? But you've got to get over that, +I <a name='Page187' id="Page187"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>187</span>guess. You've got to get on to yourself. Mr. +Myatt told me what he said to you——'</p> +<p>'So Uncle Meshach has been talking about it too?' she +interrupted.</p> +<p>'Why, yes, certainly. Of course he's quite right. Milly's bound +to go her own way. Why not make up your mind to it, and help her, +and straighten things out for her?'</p> +<p>'But——'</p> +<p>'Look here, Mrs. Stanway,' he leaned forward; 'will you tell me +just why it upsets you to think of your daughter going on the +stage?'</p> +<p>'I don't know. I can't explain. But it does.'</p> +<p>She smiled at him, smoothing out her gloves one after the other +on her lap.</p> +<p>'It's nothing but superstition, you know,' he said gently, +returning her smile.</p> +<p>'Yes,' she admitted. 'I suppose it is.'</p> +<p>He was silent for a moment, as if undecided what to say next. +She glanced at him surreptitiously, and took in all the details of +his attire—the high white collar, the dark tweed suit +obviously of American origin, the thin silver chain that emerged +from beneath his waistcoat and disappeared on a curve into the hip +pocket of his trousers, the boots with their long pointed toes. His +heavy moustache, and the smooth bluish chin, struck her as ideally +masculine.</p> +<p><a name='Page188' id="Page188"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>188</span>'No parents,' he burst out, 'no parents can see +things from their children's point of view.'</p> +<p>'Oh!' she protested. 'There are times when I feel so like my +daughters that I <i>am</i> them.'</p> +<p>He nodded. 'Yes,' he said, abandoning his position at once, 'I +can believe that. You're an exception. If I hadn't sort of known +all the time that you were, I wouldn't be here now talking like +this.'</p> +<p>'It's so accidental, the whole business,' she remarked, +branching off to another aspect of the case in order to mask the +confusion caused by the sincere flattery in his voice. 'It was only +by chance that Milly had that particular part at all. Suppose she +hadn't had it. What then?'</p> +<p>'Everything's accidental,' he replied. 'Everything that ever +happened is accidental, in a way—in another it isn't. If you +look at your own life, for instance, you'll find it's been simply a +series of coincidences. I'm sure mine has been. Sheer chance from +beginning to end.'</p> +<p>'Yes,' she said thoughtfully, and put her chin in the palm of +her left hand.</p> +<p>'And as for the stage, why, nearly every one goes on the stage +by chance. It just occurs, that's all. And moreover I guarantee +that the parents of fifty per cent. of all the actresses now +<a name='Page189' id="Page189"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>189</span>on the boards began by thinking what a terrible +blow it was to them that <i>their</i> daughters should want to do +<i>that</i>. Can't you see what I mean?' He emphasised his words +more and more. 'I'm certain you can.'</p> +<p>She signified assent. It seemed to her, as he continued to talk, +that for the first time she was listening to natural convincing +common sense in that home of hers, where existence was governed by +precedent and by conventional ideas and by the profound parental +instinct which meets all requests with a refusal. It seemed to her +that her children, though to outward semblance they had much +freedom, had never listened to anything but 'No,' 'No, dear,' 'Of +course you can't,' 'I think you had better not,' and 'Once for all, +I forbid it.' She wondered why this should have been so, and why +its strangeness had not impressed her before. She had a distant +fleeting vision of a household in which parents and children +behaved like free and sensible human beings, instead of like the +virtuous and the martyrised puppets of a terrible system called +'acting for the best.' And she thought again what an extraordinary +man Arthur Twemlow was, strong-minded, clear-headed, sympathetic, +and delightful. She enjoyed intensely the sensation of their +intimacy.</p> +<p><a name='Page190' id="Page190"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>190</span>'Jack will never agree,' she said, when she +could say nothing else.</p> +<p>'Ah! "Jack!"' He slightly imitated her tone. 'Well, that remains +to be seen.'</p> +<p>'Why do you take all this trouble for Milly?' she asked him. +'It's very good of you.'</p> +<p>'Because I'm a fool, a meddling ass,' he replied lightly, +standing up and stroking his clothes.</p> +<p>'You aren't,' her eyes said, 'you are a dear.'</p> +<p>'No,' he went on, in a serious tone, 'Milly just wanted me to +speak to you, and after all I didn't see why I shouldn't. It's no +earthly business of mine, but—oh, well! Good-bye, I must be +getting along.'</p> +<p>'Have you got an appointment to keep?' she questioned him.</p> +<p>'No—not an appointment.'</p> +<p>'Well then, you will stay a little longer. The trap will be back +quite soon.' Her voice seemed playfully to indicate that, as she +had submitted to his domination, so he must submit now to hers. +'And if you will excuse me one moment, I will go and take off this +thick jacket.'</p> +<p>Up in the bedroom, as she removed her coat in front of the +pier-glass, she smiled at her image timorously, yet in full +content. Milly's prospects did not appear to her to have been +practically im<a name='Page191' id="Page191"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>191</span>proved, nor could she piece out of Arthur +Twemlow's conversation a definite argument; nevertheless she felt +that he had made her see something more clearly than heretofore, +that he had induced in her, not by logic but by persuasiveness, a +mood towards her children which was brighter, more sanguine, and +even more loving, than any in her previous experience. She was glad +that she had left him alone for a minute, because such familiar +treatment of him somehow established definitely his status as a +friend of the house.</p> +<p>'Listen, Twemlow,' said Stanway loudly, 'I meant to run down to +the office for an hour this afternoon, but if you'll stay, I'll +stay. That's a bargain, eh?'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>John had returned from London blusterously cheerful, and Twemlow +stood in the centre of his vehement noisy hospitality as in the +centre of a typhoon. He consented to stay, because the two girls, +with hair blown and still in their wet macintoshes, took him by the +arm and said he must. He was not the first guest in that house whom +the apparent heartiness of the host had failed to convince. Always +there was something sinister, insincere, and bullying in the +invitations which John gave, and in his reception of visitors. +Hence it was, perhaps, that visitors did <a name='Page192' id= +"Page192"></a><span class='pagenum'>192</span>not abound under his +roof, despite the richness of the table and the ordered elegance of +every appointment. Women paid calls; the girls, unlike Leonora, had +their intimates, including Harry; but men seldom came; and it was +not often that the principal meals of the day were shared by an +outsider of either sex.</p> +<p>Arthur's presence on a second occasion was therefore the more +stimulating. It affected the whole house, even to the kitchen, +which, indeed, usually vibrates in sympathy with the drawing-room. +In Bessie's vivacious demeanour as she served the high-tea at six +o'clock might be observed the symptoms of the agreeable excitation +which all felt. Even Rose unbent, and Leonora thought how +attractive the girl could be when she chose. But towards the end of +the meal, it became evident that Rose was preoccupied. Leonora, +Ethel, and Millicent passed into the drawing-room. John pulled out +his immense cigar-case, and the two men began to smoke.</p> +<p>'Come along,' said Stanway, speaking thickly with the cigar in +his mouth.</p> +<p>'Papa,' said Rose ominously, just as he was following Twemlow +out of the door. She spoke with quiet, cold distinctness.</p> +<p>'What is it?'</p> +<p>'Did you inquire about that?'</p> +<p><a name='Page193' id="Page193"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>193</span>He paused. 'Oh yes, Rose,' he answered +rapidly.' I inquired. She seemed a very clever woman, I must say. +But I've been thinking it over, and I've come to the conclusion +that it won't do for you to go. I don't like the idea of +it—you in London for six weeks or more alone. You must do +what you can here. And if you fail this time you must try +again.'</p> +<p>'But I can stay in the same lodgings as Sarah Fuge. The house is +kept by her cousin or some relation.'</p> +<p>'And then there's the expense,' he proceeded.</p> +<p>'Father, I told you the other night I didn't want to put you to +any expense. I've got thirty-seven pounds of my own, and I will +pay; I prefer to pay.'</p> +<p>'Oh, no, no!' he exclaimed.</p> +<p>'Well, why can't I go?' she demanded bluntly.</p> +<p>'I'll think it over again—but I don't like it, Rose, I +don't like it.'</p> +<p>'But there isn't a day to waste, father!' she complained.</p> +<p>Bessie entered to clear the table.</p> +<p>'Hum! Well! I'll think it over again.' He breathed out smoke, +and departed. Rose set her lips hard. She was seen no more that +evening.</p> +<p>In the drawing-room, Stanway found Twemlow <a name='Page194' id= +"Page194"></a><span class='pagenum'>194</span>and Millicent talking +in low voices on the hearthrug. Ethel lounged on the sofa. Leonora +was not present, but she came in immediately.</p> +<p>'Let's have a game at solo,' John suggested. And because five +was a convenient number they all played. Twemlow and Milly were the +best performers; Milly's gift for card-playing was notorious in the +family.</p> +<p>'Do you ever play poker?' Twemlow asked, when the other three +had been beggared of counters.</p> +<p>'No,' said John, cautiously. 'Not here.'</p> +<p>'It's lots of fun,' Twemlow went on, looking at the girls.</p> +<p>'Oh, Mr. Twemlow,' Milly cried. 'It's awfully gambly, isn't it? +Do teach us.'</p> +<p>In a quarter of an hour Milly was bluffing her father with +success. She said that in future she should never want to play at +any other game. As for Leonora, though she lost and gained counters +with happy equanimity, she did not like the game; it frightened +her. When Milly had shown a straight flush and scooped the kitty +she sent the child out of the room with a message to the kitchen +concerning coffee and sandwiches.</p> +<p>'Won't Milly sing?' Twemlow asked.</p> +<p>'Certainly, if you wish,' Leonora responded.</p> +<p><a name='Page195' id="Page195"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>195</span>'Ay! Let's have something,' said Stanway, +lazily.</p> +<p>And when Millicent returned, she was told that she must sing +before eating. She sang 'Love is a Plaintive Song,' to Ethel's +inert accompaniment, and she gave it exactly as though she had been +on the stage, with all the dramatic action, all the freedom, all +the allurements, which she had lavished on the audience in the Town +Hall.</p> +<p>'Very good,' said her father. 'I like that. It's very pretty. I +didn't hear it the other night.' Twemlow merely thanked the artist. +Leonora was silently uncomfortable.</p> +<p>After coffee both the girls disappeared. Twemlow looked round, +and then spoke to Stanway.</p> +<p>'I've been very much impressed by your daughter's talent,' he +said. His tone was extremely serious. It implied that, now the +children were gone, the adults could talk with freedom.</p> +<p>Stanway was a little startled, and more than a little +flattered.</p> +<p>'Really?' he questioned.</p> +<p>'Really,' said Twemlow, emphasising still further his +seriousness. 'Has she ever been taught?'</p> +<p>'Only by a local teacher up here at Hillport,' Leonora told +him.</p> +<p><a name='Page196' id="Page196"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>196</span>'She ought to have lessons from a first-class +master.'</p> +<p>'Why?' asked Stanway abruptly.</p> +<p>'Well,' Twemlow said, 'you never know——'</p> +<p>'You honestly think her voice is worth cultivating?' John +demanded, impelled to participate in Twemlow's gravity.</p> +<p>'I do. And not only her voice——'</p> +<p>'Ah,' Stanway mused, 'there's no first-class masters in this +district.'</p> +<p>'Why, I met a man from Manchester at the Five Towns Hotel last +night,' said Twemlow, 'who comes down to Knype once a week to give +lessons. He used to sing in opera. They say he's the best man +about, and that he's taught a lot of good people. I forget his +name.'</p> +<p>'I expect you mean Cecil Corfe,' Leonora said cheerfully. She +had been amazed at the compliance of John's attitude.</p> +<p>'Yes, that's it.'</p> +<p>At the same moment there was a faint noise at the French window. +John went to investigate. As soon as his back was turned, Twemlow +glanced at Leonora with eyes full of a private amusement which he +invited her to share. 'Can't I just handle him?' he seemed to say. +She smiled, but cautiously, less she should disclose too fully her +intense appreciation of his personality.</p> +<p><a name='Page197' id="Page197"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>197</span>'Why, it's the dog!' Stanway proclaimed, 'and +wet through! What's he doing loose? It's raining like the +devil.'</p> +<p>'I'm afraid I didn't fasten him up this afternoon. I forgot,' +said Leonora. 'Oh! my new rug!'</p> +<p>Bran plunged into the room with a glad deafening bark, his tail +thwacking the furniture like the flat of a sword.</p> +<p>'Get out, you great brute!' Stanway ordered, and then, on the +step, he shouted into the darkness for Carpenter.</p> +<p>Twemlow rose to look on.</p> +<p>'I can't let you walk to the station to-night, Twemlow,' said +Stanway, still outside the room. 'Carpenter shall drive you. Yes, +he shall, so don't argue. And while he's about it he may as well +take you straight to Knype. You can go in the buggy—there's a +hood to it.'</p> +<p>When the time came for departure, John insisted on lending to +Twemlow a large driving overcoat. They stood in the hall together, +while Twemlow fumbled with the complicated apparatus of buttons. +Stanway whistled.</p> +<p>'By the way,' he said, 'when are you coming in to look through +those old accounts?'</p> +<p>'Oh, I don't know,' Twemlow answered, somewhat taken by +surprise.</p> +<p><a name='Page198' id="Page198"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>198</span>'I tell you what I'll do—I'll send you +copies of them, eh?'</p> +<p>'I think you needn't trouble,' said Twemlow, carelessly. 'I +guess I shall write to my sister, and tell her I can't see any use +in trying to worry out the old man's finances at this time of +day.'</p> +<p>'However,' Stan way repeated, 'I'll send you the copies all the +same. And when you write to your sister, will you give her my +kindest regards?'</p> +<p>The whole family, except Rose, came into the porch to bid him +good-night. In the darkness and the heavy rain could dimly be seen +the rounded form of the buggy; the cob's flanks shone in the +glittering ray of the lamps; Carpenter was hidden under the hood; +his mysterious hand raised the apron, and Twemlow stepped quickly +in.</p> +<p>'Good-night,' said Ethel.</p> +<p>'Good-night, Mr. Twemlow,' said Milly. 'Be good.'</p> +<p>'You'll see us again before you leave, Twemlow?' said John's +imperious voice.</p> +<p>'You aren't going back to America just yet, are you?' Leonora +asked, from the back.</p> +<p>No reply came from within the hood.</p> +<p>'Mother says you aren't going back to <a name='Page199' id= +"Page199"></a><span class='pagenum'>199</span>America just yet, are +you, Mr. Twemlow?' Milly screamed in her treble.</p> +<p>Arthur Twemlow showed his face. 'No, not yet, I think,' he +called. 'See you again, certainly.... And thanks once more.'</p> +<p>'Tchick!' said Carpenter.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>The next evening, after tea, John, Leonora, and Rose were in the +drawing-room. Milly had run down to see her friend Cissie Burgess, +having with fine cruelty chosen that particular night because she +happened to know that Harry would be out. Ethel was invisible. Rose +had returned with bitter persistence to the siege of her father's +obstinacy.</p> +<p>'I should have six weeks clear,' she was saying.</p> +<p>John consulted his pocket-calendar.</p> +<p>'No,' he corrected her, 'you would only have a month. It isn't +worth while.'</p> +<p>'I should have six weeks,' she repeated. 'The exam isn't till +January the seventh.'</p> +<p>'But Christmas, what about Christmas? You must be here for +Christmas.'</p> +<p>'Why?' demanded Rose.</p> +<p>'Oh, Rosie!' Leonora protested.' You can't be away for +Christmas!'</p> +<p>'Why not?' the girl demanded again, coldly.</p> +<p><a name='Page200' id="Page200"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>200</span>Both parents paused.</p> +<p>'Because you can't,' said John angrily. 'The idea's absurd.'</p> +<p>'I don't see it,' Rose persevered.</p> +<p>'Well, I do,' John delivered himself. 'And let that +suffice.'</p> +<p>Rose's face indicated the near approach of tears.</p> +<p>It was at this juncture that Bessie opened the door and +announced Mr. Twemlow.</p> +<p>'I just called to bring back that magnificent great-coat,' he +said. 'It's hanging up on its proper hook in the hall.'</p> +<p>Then he turned specially to Leonora, who sat isolated near the +fire. She was not surprised to see him, because she had felt sure +that he would at once return the overcoat in person; she had +counted on him doing so. As he came towards her she languorously +lifted her arm, without rising, and the two bangles which she wore +slipped tinkling down the wide sleeve. They shook hands in silence, +smiling.</p> +<p>'I hope you didn't take cold last night?' she said at +length.</p> +<p>'Not I,' he replied, sitting down by her side.</p> +<p>He was quick to detect the disturbance in the social atmosphere, +and though he tried to appear unconscious of it, he did not succeed +in <a name='Page201' id="Page201"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>201</span>the impossible. Moreover, Rose had evidently +decided that despite his presence she would finish what she had +begun.</p> +<p>'Very well, father,' she said. 'If you'll let me go at once I'll +come down for two days at Christmas.'</p> +<p>'Yes,' John grumbled, 'that's all very well. But who's to take +you? You can't go alone. And you know perfectly well that I only +came back yesterday.' He recited this fact precisely as though it +constituted a grievance against Rose.</p> +<p>'As if I couldn't go alone!' Rose exclaimed.</p> +<p>'If it's London you're talking about,' Twemlow said, 'I will be +going up to-morrow by the midday flyer, and could look after any +lady that happened to be on that train and would accept my +services.' He glanced pleasantly at Rose.</p> +<p>'Oh, Mr. Twemlow!' the girl murmured. It was a ludicrously +inadequate expression of her profound passionate gratitude to this +knight; but she could say no more.</p> +<p>'But can you be ready, my dear?' Leonora inquired.</p> +<p>'I am ready,' said Rose.</p> +<p>'It's understood then,' Twemlow said later. 'We shall meet at +the depôt. I can't stop another moment now. I've got a cab +waiting outside.'</p> +<p><a name='Page202' id="Page202"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>202</span>Leonora wished to ask him whether, +notwithstanding his partial assurance of the previous evening, his +journey would really end at Euston, or whether he was not taking +London <i>en route</i> for New York. But she could not bring +herself to put the question. She hoped that John might put it; +John, however, was taciturn.</p> +<p>'We shall see Rose off to-morrow, of course,' was her last +utterance to Twemlow.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Leonora and her three daughters stood in the crowd on the +platform of Knype railway station, waiting for Arthur Twemlow and +for the London express. John had brought them to the station in the +waggonette, had kissed Rose and purchased her ticket, and had then +driven off to a creditors' meeting at Hanbridge. All the women felt +rather mournful amid that bustle and confusion. Leonora had said to +herself again and again that it was absurd to regard this absence +of Rose for a few weeks as a break in the family existence. Yet the +phrase, 'the first break, the first break,' ran continually in her +mind. The gentle sadness of her mood noticeably affected the girls. +It was as though they had all suddenly discovered a mutual +unsuspected tenderness. Milly put her hand on Rose's shoulder, and +Rose did not resent the artless gesture.</p> +<p><a name='Page203' id="Page203"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>203</span>'I hope Mr. Twemlow isn't going to miss it,' +said Ethel, voicing the secret apprehension of all.</p> +<p>'I shan't miss it, anyhow,' Rose remarked defiantly.</p> +<p>Scarcely a minute before the train was due, Milly descried +Twemlow coming out of the booking office. They pressed through the +crowd towards him.</p> +<p>'Ah!' he exclaimed genially. 'Here you are! Baggage +labelled?'</p> +<p>'We thought you weren't coming, Mr. Twemlow,' Milly said.</p> +<p>'You did? I was kept quite a few minutes at the hotel. You see I +only had to walk across the road.'</p> +<p>'We didn't really think any such thing,' said Leonora.</p> +<p>The conversation fell to pieces.</p> +<p>Then the express, with its two engines, its gilded +luncheon-cars, and its post-office van, thundered in, shaking the +platform, and seeming to occupy the entire station. It had the air +of pausing nonchalantly, disdainfully, in its mighty rush from one +distant land of romance to another, in order to suffer for a brief +moment the assault of a puny and needlessly excited multitude.</p> +<p>'First stop Willesden,' yelled the porters.</p> +<p>'Say, conductor,' said Twemlow sharply, <a name='Page204' id= +"Page204"></a><span class='pagenum'>204</span>catching the +luncheon-car attendant by the sleeve, 'you've got two seats +reserved for me—Twemlow?'</p> +<p>'Twemlow? Yes, sir.'</p> +<p>'Come along,' he said, 'come along.'</p> +<p>The girls kissed at the steps of the car: 'Good-bye.'</p> +<p>'Well, good-bye all!' said Twemlow. 'I hope to see you again +some time. Say next fall.'</p> +<p>'You surely aren't——' Leonora began.</p> +<p>'Yes,' he resumed quickly, 'I sail Saturday. Must get back.'</p> +<p>'Oh, Mr. Twemlow!' Ethel and Milly complained together.</p> +<p>Rose was standing on the steps. Leonora leaned and kissed the +pale girl madly, pressing her lips into Rose's cheek. Then she +shook hands with Arthur Twemlow.</p> +<p>'Good-bye!' she murmured.</p> +<p>'I guess I shall write to you,' he said jauntily, addressing all +three of them; and Ethel and Milly enthusiastically replied: 'Oh, +do!'</p> +<p>The travellers penetrated into the car, and reappeared at a +window, one on either side of a table covered with a white cloth +and laid for two persons.</p> +<p>'Oh, don't I wish I was going!' Milly exclaimed, perceiving +them.</p> +<p><a name='Page205' id="Page205"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>205</span>Rose was now flushed with triumph. She looked +at Twemlow, her lips moved, she smiled. She was a woman in the +world. Then they nodded and waved hands.</p> +<p>The guard unfurled his green flag, the engine gave a curt, +scornful whistle, and lo! the luncheon-car was gliding away from +Leonora, Ethel, and Milly! Lo! the station was empty!</p> +<p>'I wonder what he will talk to her about,' thought Leonora.</p> +<p>They had to cross the station by the under-ground passage and +wait twenty minutes for a squalid, shambling local train which took +them to Shawport, at the foot of the rise to Hillport.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page206' id="Page206"></a><span class='pagenum'>206</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII' id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>THE DANCE</h3> +<p>About three months after its rendering of <i>Patience</i>, the +Bursley Amateur Operatic Society arranged to give a commemorative +dance in the very scene of that histrionic triumph. The fête +was to surpass in splendour all previous entertainments of the kind +recorded in the annals of the town. It was talked about for weeks +in advance; several dressmakers nearly died of it; and as the day +approached the difficulty of getting one's self invited became +extreme.</p> +<p>'You know, Mrs. Stanway,' said Harry Burgess when he met Leonora +one afternoon in the street, 'we are relying on you to be the +best-dressed woman in the place.'</p> +<p>She smiled with a calmness which had in it a touch of gentle +cynicism. 'You shouldn't,' she answered.</p> +<p>'But you're coming, aren't you?' he inquired with eager concern. +Of late, owing to the capricious frigidity of Millicent's attitude +towards <a name='Page207' id="Page207"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>207</span>him, he had been much less a frequenter of +Leonora's house, and he was no longer privy to all its doings.</p> +<p>'Oh, yes,' she said, 'I suppose I shall come.'</p> +<p>'That's all right,' he exclaimed. 'If you come you conquer.' +They passed on their ways.</p> +<p>Leonora's existence had slipped back into its old groove since +the departure of Twemlow, and the groove had deepened. She lived by +the force of habit, hoping nothing from the future, but fearing +more than a little. She seemed to be encompassed by vague and +sinister portents. After another brief interlude of apparent +security, John's situation was again disquieting. Trade was good in +the Five Towns; at least the manufacturers had temporarily +forgotten to complain that it was very bad, and the Monday +afternoon football-matches were magnificently attended. Moreover, +John had attracted favourable attention to himself by his shrewd +proposals to the Manufacturers' Association for reform in the +method of paying firemen and placers; his ability was everywhere +recognised. At the same time, however, the Five Towns looked +askance at him. Rumour revived, and said that he could not keep up +his juggling performance for ever. He was known to have speculated +heavily for a rise in the shares of a great brewery which had +falsified <a name='Page208' id="Page208"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>208</span>the prophecies of its founders when they +benevolently sold it to the investing public. Some people wondered +how long John could hold those shares in a falling market. Leonora +had no definite knowledge of her husband's affairs, since neither +John nor any other person breathed a word to her about them. And +yet she knew, by certain vibrations in the social atmosphere as +mysterious and disconcerting as those discovered by Röntgen in +the physical, that disaster, after having been repelled, was +returning from afar. Money flowed through the house as usual; +nevertheless often, as she drove about Bursley, consciously +exciting the envy and admiration which a handsome woman behind a +fast cob is bound to excite, her shamed fancy pictured the day when +Prince should belong to another and she should walk perforce on the +pavement in attire genteelly preserved from past affluence. Only +women know the keenest pang of these secret misgivings, at once +desperate and helpless.</p> +<p>Nor did she find solace in her girls. One Saturday afternoon +Ethel came back from the duty-visit to Aunt Hannah and said as it +were confidentially to Leonora: 'Fred called in while I was there, +mother, and stayed for tea.' What could Leonora answer? Who could +deny Fred <a name='Page209' id="Page209"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>209</span>the right to visit his great-aunt and his +great-uncle, both rapidly ageing? And of what use to tell John? She +desired Ethel's happiness, but from that moment she felt like an +accomplice in the furtive wooing, and it seemed to her that she had +forfeited both the confidence of her husband and the respect of her +daughter. Months ago she had meant by force of some initiative to +regularise this idyll which by its stealthiness wounded the +self-respect of all concerned. Vain aspiration! And now the fact +that Fred Ryley had begun to call at Church Street appeared to +indicate between him and Uncle Meshach a closer understanding which +could only be detrimental to the interests of John.</p> +<p>As for Rose, that child of misfortune did well during the first +four days of the examination, but on the fifth day one of her +chronic sick-headaches had in two hours nullified all the intense +and ceaseless effort of two years. It was precisely in chemistry +that she had failed. She arrived from London in tears, and the +tears were renewed when the formal announcement of defeat came +three weeks later by telegraph and John added gaiety to the +occasion by remarking: 'What did I tell you?' The girl's proud and +tenacious spirit, weakened by the long strain, was daunted at last. +She lounged in the house and garden, <a name='Page210' id= +"Page210"></a><span class='pagenum'>210</span>listless, supine, +torpid, instinctively waiting for Nature's recovery.</p> +<p>Millicent alone in the house was unreservedly cheerful and +light-hearted. She had the advantage of Mr. Corfe's instruction for +two hours every Wednesday, and expressed herself as well satisfied +with his methods. Her own intimate friends knew that she quite +intended to go on the stage, but they were enjoined to say nothing. +Consequently John Stanway was one of the few people in Bursley +unaware of the definiteness of Milly's private plans; Leonora was +another. Leonora sometimes felt that Milly's assertive and +indestructible vivacity must be due to some specific cause, but Mr. +Cecil Corfe's reputation for seriousness and discretion precluded +the idea that he was encouraging the girl to dream dreams without +the consent of her parents.</p> +<p>Leonora might have questioned Milly, but she perceived the +futility of doing so. It became more and more clear to her that she +did not possess the confidence of her daughters. They loved her and +they admired her; and she for her part made a point of trusting +them; but their confidence was withheld. Under the influence of +Arthur Twemlow she had tried to assuage the customary asperities of +home life, so far as possible, by a demeanour of generous quick +acquiescence, <a name='Page211' id="Page211"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>211</span>and she had not entirely failed. Yet the girls, +with all the obtuseness and insensibility of adolescence, never +thought of giving her the one reward which she desired. She sought +tremulously to win their intimacy, but she sought too late. Rose +and Milly simply ignored her diffident advances, and even Ethel was +not responsive. Leonora had trained up her children as she herself +had been trained. She saw her error only when it could not be +retrieved. The dear but transient vision of four women who had no +secrets from each other, who understood each other, was finally +dissolved.</p> +<p>Amid the secret desolation of a life which however was not +without love, amid her vain regrets for an irrecoverable youth and +her horror of the approach of age, amid the empty lassitudes which +apparently were all that remained of the excitement caused by +Arthur Twemlow's presence, Leonora found a mournful and sweet +pleasure in imagining that she had a son. This son combined the +best qualities of Harry Burgess and Fred Ryley. She made him tall +as herself, handsome as herself, and like herself elegant. Shrewd, +clever, and passably virtuous, he was nevertheless distinctly +capable of follies; but he told her everything, even the worst, and +though sometimes she frowned he smiled away the frown. He <a name= +'Page212' id="Page212"></a><span class='pagenum'>212</span>adored +her; he appreciated all the feminine in her; he yielded to her +whims; he kissed her chin and her wrist, held her sunshade, opened +doors for her, allowed her to beat him at tennis, and deliciously +frightened her by driving her very fast round corners in a very +high dog-cart. And if occasionally she said, 'I am not as young as +I was, Gerald,' he always replied: 'Oh rot, mater!'</p> +<p>When Ethel or Milly remarked at breakfast, as they did now and +then, that Mr. Twemlow had not fulfilled his promise of writing, +Leonora would answer evenly, 'No, I expect he's forgotten us.' And +she would go and live with her son for a little.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>She summoned this Gerald—and it was for the last +time—as she stood irresolutely waiting for her husband at the +door of the ladies' cloak-room in the Town Hall. She was dressed in +black mousseline de soie. The corsage, which fitted loosely except +at the waist and the shoulders, where it was closely confined, was +not too low, but it disclosed the beautiful diminutive rondures +above the armpits, and, behind, the fine hollow of her back. The +sleeves were long and full with tight wrists, ending in black lace. +A band of pale pink silk, covered with white lace, wandered up one +sleeve, crossed her breast in strict con<a name='Page213' id= +"Page213"></a><span class='pagenum'>213</span>formity with the top +of the corsage, and wandered down the other sleeve; at the armpits, +below the rondures, this band was punctuated with a pink rose. An +extremely narrow black velvet ribbon clasped her neck. From the +belt, which was pink, the full skirt ran down in a thousand +perpendicular pleats. The effect of the loose corsage and of the +belt on Leonora's perfect figure was to make her look girlish, +ingenuous, immaculate, and with a woman's instinct she heightened +the effect by swinging her programme restlessly on its ivory-tinted +cord.</p> +<p>They had arrived somewhat late, owing partly to John's +indecision and partly to an accident with Rose's costume. On +reaching the Town Hall, not only Ethel and Milly, but Rose also, +had deserted Leonora eagerly, impatiently, as ducklings scurry into +a pond; they passed through the cloak-room in a moment, Rose first; +Rose was human that evening. Leonora did not mind; she anticipated +the dance with neither joy nor melancholy, hoping nothing from it +in her mood of neutral calm. John was talking with David Dain at +the entrance to the gentlemen's cloak-room, further down the +corridor. Presently, old Mr. Hawley, the doctor at Hillport, joined +the other two, and then Dain moved away, leaving John and the +doctor in conversation. Dain <a name='Page214' id= +"Page214"></a><span class='pagenum'>214</span>approached and +saluted his client's wife with characteristic sheepishness.</p> +<p>'Large company, I believe,' he said awkwardly. In evening dress +he was always particularly awkward.</p> +<p>She smiled kindly on him, thinking the while what a clumsy and +objectionable fat little man he was. She knew he admired her, and +would have given much to dance with her; but she did not care for +his heavy eyes, and she despised him because he could not screw +himself up to demand a place on her programme.</p> +<p>'Yes, very large company, I believe,' he said again, moving +about nervously on his toes.</p> +<p>'Do you know how many invitations?' she asked.</p> +<p>'No, I don't.'</p> +<p>'Dain!' John called out, 'come and listen to this.' And the +lawyer escaped from her presence like a schoolboy running out of +school.</p> +<p>'What men!' she thought bitterly, standing neglected with all +her charm and all her distinction. 'What chivalry! What +courtliness! What style!' Her son belonged to a different race of +beings.</p> +<p>Down the corridor came Harry Burgess deep in converse with a +male friend; the two were walking quickly. She did not choose to +greet <a name='Page215' id="Page215"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>215</span>them waiting there alone, and so she +deliberately turned and put her head within the curtains of the +cloak-room as if to speak to some one inside.</p> +<p>'Twemlow was saying——'</p> +<p>It seemed to her that Harry in passing had uttered that phrase +to his companion. She flushed, and shook from head to foot. Then +she reflected that Twemlow was a name common to dozens of people in +the Five Towns. She bit her lip, surprised and angered at her own +agitation. At the same time she remembered—and why should she +remember?—some gossip of John's to the effect that Harry +Burgess was under a cloud at the Bank because he had gone to London +by a day-trip on the previous Thursday without leave. London ... +perhaps....</p> +<p>'Am I forty—or fourteen?' she contemptuously asked +herself.</p> +<p>She heard John and Dain laugh loudly, and the jolly voice of the +old doctor: 'Come along into the refreshment-room for a minute.' +Determined not to linger another moment for these boors, she moved +into the corridor.</p> +<p>At the end of the vista of red carpet and gas-jets rose the +grand staircase, and on the lowest stair stood Arthur Twemlow. She +had begun to traverse the corridor and she could not stop now, and +fifty feet lay between them.</p> +<p><a name='Page216' id="Page216"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>216</span>'Oh!' her heart cried in the intolerable spasm +of a swift and mysterious convulsion. 'Why do you thus torture me?' +Every step was an agony.</p> +<p>He moved towards her, and she noticed that he was extremely +pale. They met. His hand found hers. Then it was that she +perceived, with a passionate gratitude, how heaven had been +watching over her. If John had not hesitated about coming, if her +daughters had not deserted her in the cloak-room, if the old doctor +had not provided himself with a new supply of naughty stories, if +indeed everything had not occurred exactly as it had +occurred—she would have been forced to undergo in the +presence of witnesses the shock which she had just experienced; and +she would have died. She felt that in those seconds she had endured +emotion to the last limit of her capacity. She traced a providence +even in Harry's chance phrase, which had warned her and so broken +the force of the stroke.</p> +<p>'Why, cruel one, did you play this trick on me? Can you not see +what I suffer!' It was her sad glittering eyes that reproachfully +appealed to him.</p> +<p>'Did I know what would happen?' his answered. 'Am I not equally +a victim?'</p> +<p><a name='Page217' id="Page217"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>217</span>She smiled pensively, and her lips murmured: +'Well, wonders will never cease.'</p> +<p>Such were the first words.</p> +<p>'I found I had to come back to London,' he was soon explaining. +'And I met young Burgess at the Empire on Thursday night, and he +told me about this affair and gave me a ticket, and so I thought as +I had been at the opera I might as well——' He +hesitated.</p> +<p>'Have you seen the girls?' she inquired.</p> +<p>He had not.</p> +<p>On the flower-bordered staircase her foot slipped; she felt like +a convalescent trying to walk after a long illness. Arthur with a +silent questioning gesture offered his arm.</p> +<p>'Yes, please,' she said, gladly. She wished not to say it, but +she said it, and the next instant he was supporting her up the +steps. Anything might happen now, she thought; the most impossible +things might come to pass.</p> +<p>At the top of the staircase they paused. They could hear the +music faintly through closed doors. They had the precious illusion +of being aloof, apart, separated from the world, sufficient to +themselves and gloriously sufficient. Then some one opened the +doors from within; the sound of the music, suddenly freed, rushed +out and smote them; and they entered the ball-room. <a name= +'Page218' id="Page218"></a><span class='pagenum'>218</span>She was +acutely conscious of her beauty, and of the distinction of his +blanched, stern face.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>The floor was thronged by entwined couples who, under the +rhythmic domination of the music, glided and revolved in the +elaborate pattern of a mazurka. With their rapt gaze, and their +rigid bodies floating smoothly over a hidden mechanism of flying +feet, they seemed to be the victims of some enchantment, of which +the music was only a mode, and which led them enthralled through +endless curves of infallible beauty and grace. Form, colour, +movement, melody, and the voluptuous galvanism of delicate contacts +were all combined in this unique ritual of the dance, this strange +convention whose significance emerged from one mystery deeper than +the fundamental notes of the bass-fiddle, and lost itself in +another more light than the sudden flash of a shirt-front or the +tremor of a lock of hair. The goddess reigned. And round about the +hall, the guardians of decorum, the enemies of Aphrodite, enchanted +too, watched with the simplicity of doves the great Aphrodisian +festival, blind to the eternal verities of a satin slipper, a +drooping eyelash, a parted lip.</p> +<p>The music ceased, the spell was lifted for a time. And while old +alliances were being dis<a name='Page219' id= +"Page219"></a><span class='pagenum'>219</span>solved and new ones +formed in the eager promiscuity of this interval, all remarked +proudly on the success of the evening; in the gleam of every eye +the sway of the goddess was acknowledged. Romance was justified. +Life itself was justified. The shop-girl who had put ten thousand +stitches into the ruching of her crimson skirt well symbolised the +human attitude that night. As leaning heavily on a man's arm she +crossed the floor under the blazing chandelier, she secretly +exulted in each stitch of her incredible labour. Two hours, and she +would be back in the cold, celibate bedroom, littered with the +shabby realities of existence; and the spotted glass would mirror +her lugubrious yawn! Eight hours, and she would be in the dreadful +shop, tying on the black apron! The crimson skirt would never look +the same again; such rare blossoms fade too soon! And in exchange +for the toil, the fatigue, and the distressing reaction, what had +she won? She could not have said what she had won, but she knew +that it was worth the ruinous cost—this bright fallacy, this +fleeting chimera, this delusive ecstasy, this shadow and +counterfeit of bliss which the goddess vouchsafed to her +communicants.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>So thick and confused was the crowd that Leonora and Arthur, +having inserted themselves <a name='Page220' id= +"Page220"></a><span class='pagenum'>220</span>into a corner near +the west door, escaped the notice of any of their friends. They +were as solitary there as on the landing outside. But Leonora saw +quite near, in another corner, Ethel talking to Fred Ryley; she +noticed how awkward Fred looked in his new dress-suit, and she +liked him for his awkwardness; it seemed to her that Ethel was very +beautiful. Arthur pointed out Rose, who was standing up with the +lady member of the School Board. Then Leonora caught sight of +Millicent in the distance, handing her programme to the conductor +of the opera; she recalled the notorious boast of the conductor +that he never knowingly danced with a bad dancer, whatever her +fascinations. Always when they met at a ball the conductor would +ask Leonora for a couple of waltzes, and would lead her out with an +air of saying to the company: 'Now see what fine dancing is!' Like +herself, he danced with the frigidity of a professor. She wondered +whether Arthur could dance really well.</p> +<p>The placard by the orchestra said, 'Extra.'</p> +<p>'Shall we?' Arthur whispered.</p> +<p>He made a way for her through the outer fringe of people to the +middle space where the couples were forming. Her last thoughts as +she gave him her hand were thoughts half-pitiful and half-scornful +of John, David Dain, and <a name='Page221' id= +"Page221"></a><span class='pagenum'>221</span>the doctor, brutishly +content in the refreshment-room.</p> +<p>There stole out, troubling the expectant air, softly, +alluringly, invocatively, the first warning notes of that unique +classic of the ball-room, that extraordinary composition which more +than any other work of art unites all western nations in a common +delight, which is adored equally by profound musicians and by the +lightest cocottes, and which, unscathed and splendid, still +miraculously survives the deadly ordeal of eternal perfunctory +reiterance: the masterpiece of Johann Strauss.</p> +<p>'Why,' Leonora exclaimed, her excitement straining impatiently +in the leash, 'The Blue Danube!'</p> +<p>He laughed, quietly gay.</p> +<p>While the chords, with tantalising pauses and deliberation, +approached the magic moment of the waltz itself, she was conscious +that his hold of her became firmer and more assertive, and she +surrendered to an overmastering influence as one surrenders to +chloroform, desperately, but luxuriously.</p> +<p>And when at the invitation of the melody the whole company in +the centre of the floor broke into movement, and the spell was +resumed, she lost all remembrance of that which had passed, and all +apprehension of that which was to come. <a name='Page222' id= +"Page222"></a><span class='pagenum'>222</span>She lived, +passionately and yet languorously, in the vivid present. Her eyes +were level with his shoulder, and they looked with an entranced +gaze along his arm, seeing automatically the faces, the lights, and +the colours which swam in a rapid confused procession across their +field of vision. She did not reason nor recognise. These fleeting +images, appearing and disappearing on the horizon of Arthur's +elbow, produced no effect on her. She had no thoughts. Her entire +being was absorbed in a transport of obedience to the beat of the +music, and to Arthur's directing pressures. She was happy, but her +bliss had in it that element of stinging pain, of intolerable +anticipation, which is seldom absent from a felicity too intense. +'Surely I shall sink down and die!' said her heart, seeming to +faint at the joyous crises of the music, which rose and fell in +tides of varying rapture. Nevertheless she was determined to drink +the cup slowly, to taste every drop of that sweet and excruciating +happiness. She would not utterly abandon herself. The fear of +inanition was only a wayward pretence, after all, and her strong +nature cried out for further tests to prove its fortitude and its +power of dissimulation. As the band slipped into the final section +of the waltz, she wilfully dragged the time, deepening a little the +curious <a name='Page223' id="Page223"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>223</span>superficial languor which concealed her +secrets, and at the same time increasing her consciousness of +Arthur's control. She dreaded now that what had been intolerable +should cease; she wished ardently to avert the end. The glare of +lights, the separate sounds of the instruments, the slurring of +feet on the smooth floor, the lineaments of familiar faces, all the +multitudinous and picturesque detail of gyrating humanity around +her—these phenomena forced themselves on her unwilling +perception; and she tried to push them back, and to spend every +faculty in savouring the ecstasy of that one physical presence +which was so close, so enveloping, and so inexplicably dear. But in +vain, in vain! The band rioted through the last bars of the waltz, +a strange, disconcerting silence and inertia supervened, and Arthur +loosed her.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>As she sat down on the cane chair which Arthur had found, +Leonora's characteristic ease of manner deserted her. She felt +conspicuous and embarrassed, and she could neither maintain her +usual cold nonchalant glance in examining the room, nor look at +Arthur in a natural way. She had the illusion that every one must +be staring at her with amazed curiosity. Yet her furtive searching +eye could not discover a single <a name='Page224' id= +"Page224"></a><span class='pagenum'>224</span>person except Arthur +who seemed to notice her existence. All were preoccupied that night +with immediate neighbours.</p> +<p>'Will you come down into the refreshment-room?' Arthur asked. +She observed with annoyance that he too was confused, nervous, and +still very pale.</p> +<p>She shook her head, without meeting his gaze. She wished above +all things to behave simply and sincerely, to speak in her ordinary +voice, and to use familiar phrases. But she could not. On the +contrary she was seized with a strong impulse to say to him +entreatingly: 'Leave me,' as though she were a person on the stage. +She thought of other phrases, such as 'Please go away,' and 'Do you +mind leaving me for a while?' but her tongue, somehow insisting on +the melodramatic, would not utter these.</p> +<p>'Leave me!' She was frightened by her own words, and added +hastily, with the most seductive smile that her lips had +ever-framed: 'Do you mind?'</p> +<p>'I shall call to-morrow,' he said anxiously, almost gruffly. +'Shall you be in?'</p> +<p>She nodded, and he left her; she did not watch him depart.</p> +<p>'May I have the honour, gracious lady?'</p> +<p>It was the conductor of the opera who <a name='Page225' id= +"Page225"></a><span class='pagenum'>225</span>addressed her in his +even, apparently sarcastic tones.</p> +<p>'I'm afraid I must rest a bit,' she said, smiling quite +naturally. 'I've hurt my foot a little—Oh, it's nothing, it's +nothing. But I must sit still for a bit.'</p> +<p>She could not comprehend why, unintentionally and without +design, she should have told this stupid lie, and told it so +persuasively. She foresaw how the tedious consequences of the +fiction might continue throughout the evening. For a moment she had +the idea of announcing a sprained ankle and of returning home at +once. But the thought of old Dr. Hawley's presence in the building +deterred her. She perceived that her foot must get gradually +better, and that she must be resigned.</p> +<p>'Oh, mamma!' cried Rose, coming up to her. 'Just fancy Mr. +Twemlow being back again! But why did you let him leave?'</p> +<p>'Has he gone?'</p> +<p>'Yes. He just saw me on the stairs, and told me he must catch +the last car to Knype.'</p> +<p>'Our dance, I think, Miss Rose,' said a young man with a +gardenia, and Rose, flushed and sparkling, was carried off. The +ball proceeded.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>John Stanway had a singular capacity for not <a name='Page226' +id="Page226"></a><span class='pagenum'>226</span>enjoying himself +on those social occasions when to enjoy one's self is a duty to the +company. But this evening, as the hour advanced, he showed the +symptoms of a sharp attack of gaiety such as visited him from time +to time. He and Dr. Hawley and Dain formed an ebullient centre of +high spirits, and they upheld the ancient traditions; they +professed a liking for old-fashioned dances, and for old-fashioned +ways of dancing the steps which modern enthusiasm for the waltz had +not extinguished. And they found an appreciable number of +followers. The organisers of the ball, the upholders of +correctness, punctilio, and the mode, fretted and fought against +the antagonistic influence. 'Ass!' said the conductor of the opera +bitterly when Harry Burgess told him that Stanway had suggested Sir +Roger de Coverley for an extra, 'I wonder what his wife thinks of +him!' Sir Roger de Coverley was not danced, but twenty or thirty +late stayers, with Stanway and Dain in charge, crossed hands in a +circle and sang 'Auld Lang Syne' at the close. It was one of those +incredible things that can only occur between midnight and +cock-crow. During this revolting rite, the conductor and his +friends sought sanctuary in the refreshment-room. Leonora, Ethel, +and Milly were also there, but Rose and the lady-member of the +School <a name='Page227' id="Page227"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>227</span>Board had remained upstairs to sing 'Auld Lang +Syne.'</p> +<p>'Now, girls,' said Stanway with loud good humour, invading the +select apartment with his followers, 'time to go. Carpenter's been +waiting half-an-hour. Your foot all right again, Nora?'</p> +<p>'Quite,' she replied. 'Are you really ready?'</p> +<p>She had so interminably waited that she could not believe the +evening to be at length actually finished.</p> +<p>They all exchanged adieux, Stanway and his cronies effusively, +the opposing and outraged faction with a certain fine acrimony. +'Good-night, Fred,' said John, throwing a backward patronising +glance at Ryley, who had strolled uneasily into the room. The young +man paused before replying. 'Good-night,' he said stiffly, and his +demeanour indicated: 'Do not patronise me too much.' Fred could not +dance, but he had audaciously sat out four dances with Ethel, at +this his first ball, and the serious young man had the strange +agreeable sensation of feeling a dog. He dared not, however, +accompany Ethel to the carriage, as Harry Burgess accompanied +Millicent. Harry had been partially restored to favour again during +the latter half of the entertainment, just in time to prevent him +from getting tipsy. The fact was that Millicent had vaguely +expected, in <a name='Page228' id="Page228"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>228</span>view of her position as prima donna, to be 'the +belle of the ball'; but there had been no belle, and Millicent was +put to the inconvenience of discovering that she could do nothing +without footlights.</p> +<p>'I asked Twemlow to come up to-morrow night, Nora,' said John, +still elated, turning on the box-seat as the waggonette rattled +briskly over the paved crossing at the top of Oldcastle Street.</p> +<p>She mumbled something through her furs.</p> +<p>'And is he coming?' asked Rose.</p> +<p>'He said he'd try to.' John lighted a cigar.</p> +<p>'He's very queer,' said Millicent.</p> +<p>'How?' Rose aggressively demanded.</p> +<p>'Well, imagine him going off like that. He's always going off +suddenly.' Millicent stopped and then added: 'He only danced with +mother. But he's a good dancer.'</p> +<p>'I should think he was!' Ethel murmured, roused from lethargy. +'Isn't he just, mother?'</p> +<p>Leonora mumbled again.</p> +<p>'Your mother's knocked up,' said John drily. 'These late nights +don't suit her. So you reckon Mr. Twemlow's a good dancer, eh?'</p> +<p>No one spoke further. John threw his cigar into the road.</p> +<p>Under the rug Leonora could feel the knees <a name='Page229' id= +"Page229"></a><span class='pagenum'>229</span>of all her daughters +as they sat huddled and limp with fatigue in the small body of the +waggonette. Her shoulders touched Ethel's, and every one of Milly's +fidgety movements communicated itself to her. Mother and children +were so close that they could not have been closer had they lain in +the same grave. And yet the girls, and John too, had no slightest +suspicion how far away the mother was from them, how blind they +were, how amazingly they had been deceived. They deemed Leonora to +be like themselves, the victim of reaction and weariness; so drowsy +that even the joltings of the carriage could not prevent a doze. +She marvelled, she could not help marvelling, that her spiritual +detachment should remain unnoticed; the phenomenon frightened her +as something full of strange risks. Was it possible that none had +caught a glimpse of the intense illumination and activity of her +brain, burning and labouring there so conspicuously amid the other +brains sombre and dormant? And was it possible that the girls had +observed the qualities of Arthur's dancing and had observed nothing +else? Common sense tried to reassure her, and did not quite +succeed. Her attitude resembled that of a person who leans against +a firm rail over the edge of a precipice: there is no danger, but +the precipice is so deep that he fears; <a name='Page230' id= +"Page230"></a><span class='pagenum'>230</span>and though the fear +is a torture the sinister magnetism of the abyss forbids him to +withdraw. She lived again in the waltz; in the gliding motions of +it, the delicious fluctuations of the reverse, the long trance-like +union, the instinctive avoidances of other contact. She whispered +the music, endlessly repeating those poignant and voluptuous +phrases which linger in the memory of all the world. And she +recalled and reconstituted Arthur's physical presence, and the +emanating charm of his disposition, and dwelt on them long and +long. Instead of lessening, the secret commotion within her +increased and continued to increase. While brooding with feverish +joy over the immediate past, her mind reached forward and existed +in the appalling and fatal moment, for whose reality however her +eagerness could scarcely wait, when she should see him once more. +And it asked unanswerable questions about his surprising return +from New York, and his pallor, and the tremor in his voice, and his +swift departure. Suddenly she knew that she was planning to have +the girls out of the house to-morrow afternoon between four and +five o'clock.... Her spine shivered, she grew painfully hot, and +tears rushed to her eyes. She pitied herself profoundly. She said +that she did not know what was the matter with her, or what was +going to happen. She could <a name='Page231' id= +"Page231"></a><span class='pagenum'>231</span>not give names to +things. She only felt that she was too violently alive.</p> +<p>'Now, missis,' John roused her. The carriage had stopped and he +had already descended. She got out last, and Carpenter drove away +while John was still fumbling in his hip-pocket for the latchkey. +The night was humid and very dark. Leonora and the girls stood +waiting on the gravel, and John groped his way into the blackness +of the portico to unfasten the door. A faint gleam from the +hall-gas came through the leaded fanlight. This scarcely +perceptible glow and the murmur of John's expletives were all that +came to the women from the mystery of the house. The key grated in +the lock, and the door opened.</p> +<p>'G——d d——n!' Stanway exclaimed +distinctly, with fierce annoyance. He had fallen headlong into the +hall, and his silk hat could be heard hopping towards the +staircase.</p> +<p>'Pa! 'Milly protested, shocked.</p> +<p>John sprang up, fuming, turned the gas on to the full, and +rushed back to the doorway.</p> +<p>'Ah!' he shouted. 'I knew it was a tramp lying there. Get up. Is +the beggar asleep?'</p> +<p>They all bent down, startled into gravity, to examine a form +which lay in the portico, nearly parallel with the step and below +it.</p> +<p><a name='Page232' id="Page232"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>232</span>'It's Uncle Meshach,' said Ethel. 'Oh! +mother!'</p> +<p>'Then my aunt's had another attack,' cried John, 'and he's come +up to tell us, and—Milly, run for Carpenter.'</p> +<p>It seemed to Leonora, as with sudden awe she vaguely figured an +august and capricious power which conferred experience on mortals +like a wonderful gift, that that bestowing hand was never more full +than when it had given most.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page233' id="Page233"></a><span class='pagenum'>233</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX' id="CHAPTER_IX"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>A DEATH IN THE FAMILY</h3> +<p>While Prince, tethered summarily outside the stable-door with +all his harness on, was trying in vain to understand this singular +caprice on the part of Carpenter, Carpenter and the head of the +house lifted Uncle Meshach's form and carried it into the hall. The +women watched, ceasing their wild useless questions.</p> +<p>'Into the breakfast-room, on the sofa,' said John, breathing +hard, to the man.</p> +<p>'No, no,' Leonora intervened, 'you had better take him upstairs +at once, to Ethel and Milly's bedroom.'</p> +<p>The procession, undignified and yet impressive, came to a halt, +and Carpenter, who was holding Meshach's feet, glanced with canine +anxiety from his master to his mistress.</p> +<p>'But look here, Nora,' John began.</p> +<p>'Yes, father, upstairs,' said Rose, cutting him short.</p> +<p>Preoccupied with the cumbrous weight of <a name='Page234' id= +"Page234"></a><span class='pagenum'>234</span>Meshach's shoulders, +John could not maintain the discussion; he hesitated, and then +Carpenter moved towards the stairs. The small dangling body seemed +to say: 'I am indifferent, but it is perhaps as well that you have +done arguing.'</p> +<p>'Run over to Dr. Hawley's, and ask him to come across at +<i>once</i>, John instructed Carpenter, when they had steered Uncle +Meshach round the twist of the staircase, and insinuated him +through a doorway, and laid him at length, in his overcoat and his +muffler and his quaint boots, on Ethel's virginal bed.</p> +<p>'But has the doctor come home, Jack?' Leonora inquired.</p> +<p>'Of course he has,' said John. 'He drove up with Dain, and they +passed us at Shawport. Didn't you hear me call out to them?'</p> +<p>'Oh yes,' she agreed.</p> +<p>Then John, hatless but in his ulster, and the women, hooded and +shawled, drew round the bed; but Ethel and Milly stood at the foot. +The inanimate form embarrassed them all, made them feel +self-conscious and afraid to meet one another's eyes.</p> +<p>'Better loosen his things,' said Leonora, and Rose's fingers +were instantly at work to help her.</p> +<p>Uncle Meshach was white, rigid, and stone<a name='Page235' id= +"Page235"></a><span class='pagenum'>235</span>cold; the stiff +'Myatt' jaw was set; the eyes, wide open, looked upwards, and +strangely outwards, in a fixed stare. And his audience thought, as +they gazed in a sort of foolish astonishment at the puny, +grotesque, and unfamiliar thing, 'Is this really Uncle Meshach?' +John lifted the wrist and felt for the pulse, but he could +distinguish no beat, and he shook his head accordingly. 'Try the +heart, mother,' Rose suggested, and Leonora, after penetrating +beneath garment after garment, placed her hand on Meshach's icy and +tranquil breast. And she too shook her head. Then John, with an air +of finality, took out his gold repeater and when he had polished +the glass he held it to Uncle Meshach's parted lips. 'Can you see +any moisture on it?' he asked, taking it to the light, but none of +them could detect the slightest dimness.</p> +<p>'I do wish the doctor would be quick,' said Milly.</p> +<p>'Doctor'll be no use,' John remarked gruffly, returning to gaze +again at the immovable face. 'Except for an inquest,' he added.</p> +<p>'I think some one had better walk down to Church Street at once, +and tell Aunt Hannah that uncle is here,' said Leonora. 'Perhaps +she <i>is</i> ill. Anyhow, she'll be very anxious.' But she +faltered before the complicated problem. 'Rose, <a name='Page236' +id="Page236"></a><span class='pagenum'>236</span>go and wake +Bessie, and ask her if uncle called here during the evening, and +tell her to get up at once and light the gas-stove and put some +water on to boil, and then to light a fire here.'</p> +<p>'And who's to go to Church Street?' John asked quickly.</p> +<p>Leonora looked for an instant at Rose, as the girl left the +room. She felt that on such an occasion she could more easily spare +Ethel's sweet eagerness to help than Rose's almost sinister +self-possession. 'Ethel and Milly,' she said promptly. 'At least +they can run on first. And be very careful what you say to Aunt +Hannah, my dears. And one of you must hurry back at once in any +case, by the road, not by the fields, and tell us what has +happened.'</p> +<p>Rose came in to say that Bessie and the other servants had seen +nothing of Uncle Meshach, and that they were all three getting up, +and then she disappeared into the kitchen. Ethel and Milly +departed, a little scared, a little regretful, but inspirited by +the dreadful charm and fascination of the whole inexplicable +adventure.</p> +<p>'Aunt Hannah's had another attack, depend on it,' said John, +'that's it.'</p> +<p>'I hope not,' Leonora murmured perfunctorily. Now that she had +broken the spell of futile <a name='Page237' id= +"Page237"></a><span class='pagenum'>237</span>inactivity which the +discovery of Uncle Meshach's body seemed for a few dire moments to +have laid upon them, she was more at ease.</p> +<p>'I fancy you'd better go down there yourself as soon as the +doctor's been,' John continued. 'You're perhaps more likely to be +useful there than here. What do you think?'</p> +<p>She looked at him under her eyelids, saying nothing, and reading +all his mind. He had obstinately determined that Uncle Meshach was +dead, and he was striving to conceal both his satisfaction on that +account and his rapidly growing anxiety as to the condition of Aunt +Hannah. His terrible lack of frankness, that instinct for the +devious and the underhand which governed his entire existence, +struck her afresh and seemed to devastate her heart. She felt that +she could have tolerated in her husband any vice with less effort +than that one vice which was specially his, that vice so +contemptible and odious, so destructive of every noble and generous +sentiment. Her silent, measured indignation fed itself on almost +nothing—on a mere word, a mere inflection of his voice, a +single transient gleam of his guilty eye. And though she was right +by unerring intuition, John, could he have seen into her soul, +might have been excused for demanding, 'What have I said, what have +I done, to deserve this scorn?'</p> +<p><a name='Page238' id="Page238"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>238</span>Rose returned, bearing materials for a fire; +she had changed her Liberty dress for the dark severe frock of her +studious hours, and she had an irritating air of being perfectly +equal to the occasion. John, having thrown off his ulster, +endeavoured to assist her in lighting the fire, but she at once +proved to him that his incapacity was a hindrance to her; whereupon +he wondered what in the name of goodness Carpenter and the doctor +were doing to be so long. Leonora began to tidy the room, which +bore witness to the regardless frenzy of anticipation with which +its occupants had cast aside the soiled commonplaces of life six +hours before.</p> +<p>'But look!' Rose cried suddenly, examining Uncle Meshach anew, +after the fire was lighted.</p> +<p>'What?' John and Leonora demanded together, rushing to the +bed.</p> +<p>'His lips weren't like that!' the girl asserted with +eagerness.</p> +<p>All three gazed long at the impassive face.</p> +<p>'Of course they were,' said John, coldly discouraging. Leonora +made no remark.</p> +<p>The unblinking eyes of Uncle Meshach continued to stare upwards +and outwards, indifferently, interested in the ceiling. Outside +could be heard the creaking of stairs, and the affrighted whisper +of the maids as they descended in deshabillé from <a name= +'Page239' id="Page239"></a><span class='pagenum'>239</span>their +attics at the bidding of this unconscious, cynical, and sardonic +enigma on the bed.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'His heart is beating faintly.'</p> +<p>Old Dr. Hawley dropped the antique stethoscope back into the +pocket of his tight dress coat, and, still bending over Uncle +Meshach, but turning slightly towards John and Leonora, smiled with +all his invincible jollity.</p> +<p>'Is it, by Jove?' John exclaimed.</p> +<p>'You thought he was dead?' said the doctor, beaming.</p> +<p>Leonora nodded.</p> +<p>'Well, he isn't,' the doctor announced with curt +cheerfulness.</p> +<p>'That's good,' said John.</p> +<p>'But I don't think he can get over it,' the doctor concluded, +with undiminished brightness, his eyes twinkling.</p> +<p>While he spoke he was busy with the hot water and the cloths +which Leonora and Rose had produced immediately upon demand. In a +few minutes Uncle Meshach was covered almost from head to foot with +cloths drenched in hot mustard-and-water; he had hot-water bags +under his arms, and he was swathed in a huge blanket.</p> +<p>'There!' said the rotund doctor. 'You must keep that up, and +I'll send a stimulant at once. <a name='Page240' id= +"Page240"></a><span class='pagenum'>240</span>I can't stop now; not +another minute. I was called to an obstetric case just as I started +out. I'll come back the moment I'm free.'</p> +<p>'What is it—this thing?' John inquired.</p> +<p>'What is it!' the doctor repeated genially. 'I'll tell you what +it is. Put your nose there.' He indicated Uncle Meshach's mouth. +'Do you notice that ammoniacal smell? That's due to uraemia, a +sequel of Bright's disease.'</p> +<p>'Bright's disease?' John muttered.</p> +<p>'Bright's disease,' affirmed the doctor, dwelling on the famous +and striking syllables. 'Your uncle is the typical instance of the +man who has never been ill in his life. He walks up a little slope +or up some steps to a friend's house, and just as he is lifting his +hand to the knocker, he has a convulsion and falls down +unconscious. That's Bright's disease. Never been ill in his life! +Not so far as <i>he</i> knew! Not so far as <i>he</i> knew! Nearly +all you Myatts had weak kidneys. Do you remember your great-uncle +Ebenezer? You've sent down to Miss Myatt, you say? Good.... Perhaps +he was lying on your steps for two or three hours. He may pull +round. He may. We must hope so.'</p> +<p>The doctor put on his overcoat, and his cap with the ear-flaps, +and after a final glance at the patient and a friendly, reassuring +smile at <a name='Page241' id="Page241"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>241</span>Leonora, he went slowly to the door. Girth and +good humour and funny stories had something to do with his great +reputation in Bursley and Hillport. But he possessed shrewdness and +sagacity; he belonged to a dynasty of doctors; and he was deeply +versed in the social traditions of the district. Men consulted him +because their grandfathers had consulted his father, and because +there had always been a Dr. Hawley in Bursley, and because he was +acquainted with the pathological details of their ancestral history +on both sides of the hearth. His patients, indeed, were not +individuals, but families. There were cleverer doctors in the +place, doctors of more refined appearance and manners, doctors less +monotonously and loudly gay; but old Hawley, with his knowledge of +pedigrees and his unique instinctive sympathy with the +idiosyncrasies of local character, could hold his own against the +most assertive young M.D. that ever came out of Edinburgh to +monopolise the Five Towns.</p> +<p>'Can you send some one round with me for the medicine?' he asked +in the doorway. 'Happen you'll come yourself, John?'</p> +<p>There was a momentary hesitation.</p> +<p>'I'll come, doctor,' said Rose. 'And then you can give me all +your instructions. Mother must stay here.' She completely ignored +her father.</p> +<p><a name='Page242' id="Page242"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>242</span>'Do, my dear; come by all means.' And the +doctor beamed again suddenly with the maximum of cheerfulness.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Meshach had given no sign of life; his eyes, staring upwards and +outwards, were still unchangeably fixed on the same portion of the +ceiling. He ignored equally the nonchalant and expert attentions of +the doctor, the false solicitude of John, Leonora's passionate +anxiety, and Rose's calm self-confidence. He treated the +fomentations with the apathy which might have been expected from a +man who for fifty years had been accustomed to receive the meek +skilled service of women in august silence. One could almost have +detected in those eyes a glassy and profound secret amusement at +the disturbance which he had caused—a humorous appreciation +of all the fuss: the maids with their hair down their backs bending +and whispering over a stove; Ethel and Milly trudging scared +through the nocturnal streets; Rose talking with demure excitement +to old Hawley in his aromatic surgery; John officiously carrying +kettles to and fro, and issuing orders to Bessie in the passage; +Leonora cast violently out of one whirlpool into another; and some +unknown expectant terrified pair wondering why the doctor, who had +been warned months before, should thus culpably neglect their +<a name='Page243' id="Page243"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>243</span>urgent summons. As he lay there so grim and +derisive and solitary, so fatigued with days and nights, so used +up, so steeped in experience, and so contemptuously unconcerned, he +somehow baffled all the efforts of blankets, cloths, and bags to +make his miserable frame look ridiculous. He had a majesty which +subdued his surroundings. And in this room hitherto sacred to the +charming mysteries of girlhood his cadaverous presence forced the +skirts and petticoats on Milly's bed, and the disordered apparatus +on the dressing-table, and the scented soaps on the washstand, and +the row of tiny boots and shoes which Leonora had arranged near the +wardrobe, to apologise pathetically and wistfully for their very +existence.</p> +<p>'Is that enough mustard?' John inquired idly.</p> +<p>'Yes,' said Leonora.</p> +<p>She realised—but not in the least because he had asked a +banal question about mustard—that he was perfectly insensible +to all spiritual significances. She had been aware of it for many +years, yet the fact touched her now more sharply than ever. It +seemed to her that she must cry out in a long mournful cry: 'Can't +you see, can't you feel!' And once again her husband might +justifiably have demanded: 'What have I done this time?'</p> +<p><a name='Page244' id="Page244"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>244</span>'I wish one of those girls would come back from +Church Street,' he burst out, frowning. 'They're here!' He became +excited as he listened to light rapid footsteps on the stair. But +it was Rose who entered.</p> +<p>'Here's the medicine, mother,' said Rose eagerly. She was +flushed with running. 'It's chloric ether and nitrate of potash, a +highly diffusible stimulant. And there's a chance that sooner or +later it may put him into a perspiration. But it will be worse than +useless if the hot applications aren't kept up, the doctor said. +You must raise his head and give it him in a spoon in very small +doses.'</p> +<p>And then Meshach impassively submitted to the handling of his +head and his mouth. He gurgled faintly in accepting the medicine, +and soon his temples and the corners of his lips showed a very +slight perspiration. But though the doses were repeated, and the +fomentations assiduously maintained, no further result occurred, +save that Meshach's eyes, according to the shifting of his head, +perused new portions of the ceiling.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>As the futile minutes passed, John grew more and more restless. +He was obliged to admit to himself that Uncle Meshach was not dead, +but he felt absolutely sure that he would never revive. <a name= +'Page245' id="Page245"></a><span class='pagenum'>245</span>Had not +the doctor said as much? And he wanted desperately to hear that +Aunt Hannah still lived, and to take every measure of precaution +for her continuance in this world. The whole of his future might +depend upon the hazard of the next hour.</p> +<p>'Look here, Nora,' he said protestingly, while Rose was on one +of her journeys to the kitchen. 'It's evidently not much use you +stopping here, whereas there's no knowing what hasn't happened down +at Church Street.'</p> +<p>'Do you mean you wish me to go down there?' she asked +coldly.</p> +<p>'Well, I leave it to your common sense,' he retorted.</p> +<p>Rose appeared.</p> +<p>'Your father thinks I ought to go down to Church Street,' said +Leonora.</p> +<p>'What! And leave uncle?' Rose added nothing to this question, +but proceeded with her tasks.</p> +<p>'Certainly,' John insisted.</p> +<p>Leonora was conscious of an acute resentment against her +husband. The idea of her leaving Uncle Meshach at such a crisis +seemed to her to be positively wicked. Had not John heard what Rose +said to the doctor: 'Mother must stay here'? Had he not heard that? +But of course <a name='Page246' id="Page246"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>246</span>he desired that Uncle Meshach should die. Yes, +every word, every gesture of his in the sick-room was an +involuntary expression of that desire.</p> +<p>'Why don't you go yourself, father?' Rose demanded of him +bluntly, after a pause.</p> +<p>'Simply because, if there <i>is</i> any illness, I shouldn't be +any use.' John glared at his daughter.</p> +<p>Then, quite suddenly, Leonora thought how vain, how pitiful, how +unseemly, were these acrimonious conflicts of opinion in presence +of the strange and awe-inspiring riddle in the blanket. An impulse +seized her to give way, and she found a dozen reasons why she +should desert Uncle Meshach for Aunt Hannah.</p> +<p>'Can you manage?' she asked Rose doubtfully.</p> +<p>'Oh yes, mother, we can manage,' answered Rose, with an +exasperating manufactured sweetness of tone.</p> +<p>'Tell Carpenter to put the horse in,' John suggested. 'I expect +he's waiting about in the kitchen.'</p> +<p>'No,' said Leonora, 'I'll pin my skirt up and walk. I shall be +half way there before he's ready to start.'</p> +<p>When Leonora had departed, John redoubled his activity as a +nurse. 'There's no object in <a name='Page247' id= +"Page247"></a><span class='pagenum'>247</span>changing the cloths +as often as that,' said Rose. But his suspense forbade him to keep +still. Rose annoyed him excessively, and the nervous energy which +should have helped towards self-control was expended in concealing +that annoyance. He felt as though he should go mad unless something +decisive happened very soon. To his surprise, just after the hall +clock (which was always kept half-an-hour fast) had sounded three +through the dark passages of the apprehensive house, Rose left the +room. He was alone with what remained of Uncle Meshach. He moved +the blanket, and touched the cloth which lay on Meshach's heart. +'Not too hot, that,' he said aloud. Taking the cloth he walked to +the fire, where was a large saucepan full of nearly boiling water. +He picked up the lid of the saucepan, dropped it, crossed over to +the washstand with a brusque movement, and plunged the cloth into +the cold water of the ewer. Holding it there, he turned and gazed +in a sort of abstract meditation at Uncle Meshach, who steadily +ignored him. He was possessed by a genuine feeling of righteous +indignation against his uncle.... He drew the cloth from the ewer, +squeezed it a little, and approached the bed again. And as he stood +over Meshach with the cloth in his hand, he saw his wife in the +doorway. He knew in an instant that his own face had frightened +<a name='Page248' id="Page248"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>248</span>her and prevented her from saying what she was +about to say.</p> +<p>'How you startled me, Nora!' he exclaimed, with his surpassing +genius for escaping from an apparently fatal situation.</p> +<p>She ran up to the bed. 'Don't keep uncle uncovered like that,' +she said; 'put it on.' And she took the cloth from his hand. 'Why,' +she cried, 'it's like ice! What on earth are you doing? Where's +Rose?'</p> +<p>'I was just taking it off,' he replied. 'What about aunt?'</p> +<p>'I met the girls down the road,' she said. 'Your aunt is +dead.'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>A few minutes later Uncle Meshach's rigid frame suffered a +convulsion; the whole surface of his skin sweated abundantly; his +eyes wavered, closed, and opened again; his mouth made the motion +of swallowing. He had come back from unconsciousness. He was no +longer an enigma, wrapped in supercilious and inflexible calm; but +a sick, shrivelled little man, so pitiably prostrate that his +condition drew the sympathy out of Leonora with a sharp violent +pain, as very cold metal burns the fingers. He could not even +whisper; he could only look. Soon afterwards Dr. Hawley returned, +explaining that the <a name='Page249' id="Page249"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>249</span>anxiety of a husband about to be a father had +called him too soon by several hours. The doctor, who had been +informed of Aunt Hannah's death as he entered the house, said at +once, on seeing him, that Uncle Meshach had had a marvellous +escape. Then, when he had succoured the patient further, he turned +rather formidably to Leonora.</p> +<p>'I want to speak to you,' he said, and he led her out of the +room, leaving Rose, Ethel, and John in charge of Meshach.</p> +<p>'What is it, doctor?' she asked him plaintively on the +landing.</p> +<p>'Which is your bedroom? Show it me,' he demanded. She opened a +door, and they both went in. 'I'll light the gas,' he said, doing +so. 'And now,' he proceeded, 'you'll kindly retire to bed, +instantly. Mr. Myatt is out of danger.' He smiled warmly, just as +he had smiled when he predicted that Meshach would probably not +recover.</p> +<p>'But, doctor,' Leonora protested.</p> +<p>'Instantly,' he said, forcing her gently on to the sofa at the +foot of the two beds.</p> +<p>'But some one ought to go down to Church Street to look after +things,' she began.</p> +<p>'Church Street can wait. There's no hurry at Church Street +now.'</p> +<p><a name='Page250' id="Page250"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>250</span>'And uncle hasn't been told yet ... I'm not at +all over-tired, doctor.'</p> +<p>'Yes, mother dear, you are, and you must do as the doctor +orders.' It was Ethel who had come into the room; she touched +Leonora's arm caressingly.</p> +<p>'And where are you girls to sleep? The spare room +isn't——'</p> +<p>'Oh, mother!—-- Just listen to her, doctor!' said Ethel, +stroking her mother's hand, as though she and the doctor were two +old and sage persons, and Leonora was a small child.</p> +<p>'They think I'm ill! They think I'm going to collapse!' The idea +struck her suddenly. 'But I'm not. I'm quite well, and my brain is +perfectly clear. And anyhow, I'm sure I can't sleep.' She said +aloud: 'It wouldn't be any use; I shouldn't sleep.'</p> +<p>'Ah! I'll attend to that, I'll attend to that!' the doctor +laughed. 'Ethel, help your mother to bed.' He departed.</p> +<p>'This is really most absurd,' Leonora reflected. 'It's +ridiculous. However, I'm only doing it to oblige them.'</p> +<p>Before she was entirely undressed, Rose entered with a powder in +a white paper, and a glass of hot milk.</p> +<p>'You are to swallow <i>this</i>, mother, and then <a name= +'Page251' id="Page251"></a><span class='pagenum'>251</span>drink +<i>this</i>. Here, Eth, hold the glass a second.'</p> +<p>And Leonora accepted the powder from Rose and the milk from +Ethel, as they stood side by side in front of her. Great waves +seemed to surge through her brain. In walking to the bed, she saw +herself all white in the mirror of the wardrobe.</p> +<p>'My face looks as if it was covered with flour,' she said to +Ethel, with a short laugh. It did not occur to her that she was +pale. 'Don't forget to——' But she had forgotten what +Ethel was not to forget. Her head reeled as it lay firmly on the +pillow. The waves were waves of sound now, and they developed into +a rhythm, a tune. She had barely time to discover that the tune was +the Blue Danube Waltz, and that she was dancing, when the whole +world came to an end.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>She awoke to feel the radiant influence of the afternoon sun +through the green blinds. Impregnated with a delicious languor, she +slowly stretched out her arms, and, lifting her head, gazed first +at the intricate tracery of the lace on her silk nightgown, and +then into the silent dreamy spaces of the room. Everything was in +perfect order; she guessed that Ethel must have trod softly to make +it tidy before leaving her, hours ago. <a name='Page252' id= +"Page252"></a><span class='pagenum'>252</span>John's bed was turned +down, and his pyjamas laid out, with all Bessie's accustomed +precision. Presently she noticed on her night-table a sheet of +note-paper, on which had been written in pencil, in large letters: +'Ring the bell before getting up.' She could not be sure whether +the hand was Ethel's or Rose's. 'Oh!' she thought, 'how good my +girls are!' She was quite well, quite restored, and slightly +hungry. And she was also calm, content, ready to commence existence +anew.</p> +<p>'I suppose I had better humour them,' she murmured, and she rang +the bell.</p> +<p>Bessie entered. The treasure was irreproachably neat and prim in +her black and white.</p> +<p>'What time is it, Bessie?' Leonora inquired.</p> +<p>'It's a straight-up three, ma'am.'</p> +<p>'Then I must have slept for eleven hours! How is Mr. Myatt going +on?'</p> +<p>Bessie dropped her hands, and smiled benevolently: 'Oh! He's +much better, ma'am. And when the doctor told him about poor Miss +Myatt, ma'am, he just said the funeral must be on Saturday because +he didn't like Sunday funerals, and it wouldn't do to wait till +Monday. He didn't say nothing else. And he keeps on telling us he +shall be well enough to go to the funeral, and he's sent master +down to Guest's <a name='Page253' id="Page253"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>253</span>in St. Luke's Square to order it, and the +hearse is to have two horses, but not the coaches, ma'am. He's +asleep just now, ma'am, and I'm watching him, but Miss Rose is +resting on Miss Milly's bed in case, so I can come in here for a +minute or two. He told the doctor and master that Miss Myatt was +took with one of them attacks at half-past eleven o'clock, and he +went for Dr. Adams as lives at the top of Oldcastle Street. Dr. +Adams wasn't in, and then he saw a cab—it must have been +coming from the ball, ma'am, but Mr. Myatt didn't know as there was +any ball—and he drove up to Hillport for Dr. Hawley, him +being the family doctor. And then he said he felt bad-like, and he +thought he'd come here and send master across the way for Dr. +Hawley. And he got out of the cab and paid the cabman, and then he +doesn't remember no more. Wasn't it dreadful, ma'am? I don't +believe he rightly knew what he was doing, the poor old +gentleman!'</p> +<p>Leonora listened. 'Where are Miss Ethel and Miss Milly?' she +asked.</p> +<p>'Master said they was to go to Oldcastle to order mourning, +ma'am. They've but just gone. And master said he should be back +himself about six. He never slept a wink, ma'am; nor even sat down. +He just had his bath, and Miss Ethel crept in here for his +clothes.'</p> +<p><a name='Page254' id="Page254"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>254</span>'And have you been to bed, Bessie?'</p> +<p>'Me? No, ma'am. What should I go to bed for? I'm as well as +well, ma'am. Miss Milly slept in Miss Rose's bedroom, for a bit, +and Miss Ethel on the sofy in the drawing-room—not as you +might call that sleeping. Miss Rose said you was to have some tea +before you got up, ma'am. Shall I tell cook to get it now?'</p> +<p>'I really think I should prefer to have it downstairs, Bessie, +thanks,' said Leonora.</p> +<p>'Very well, ma'am. But Miss Rose said——'</p> +<p>'Yes, but I will have it downstairs. In three-quarters of an +hour, say.'</p> +<p>'Very well, ma'am. Now is there anything I can do for you, +ma'am?'</p> +<p>While dressing, very placidly and deliberately, and while +thinking upon all the multitudinous things that seemed to have +happened in her world during her long slumber, Leonora dwelt too +upon the extraordinary loving kindness of this hireling, who got +twenty pounds a year, half-a-day a week, and a day a month. On the +first of every month Leonora handed to Bessie one paltry sovereign, +thirteen shillings, and the odd fourpence in coppers. She wondered +fancifully if she would have the effrontery to requite the girl in +coin on the next pay-day; and she was filled with a sense of the +goodness of humanity. And <a name='Page255' id= +"Page255"></a><span class='pagenum'>255</span>then there crossed +her mind the recollection that she had caught John in a wicked act +on the previous night. Yes; he had not imposed on her for a moment; +and she perceived clearly now that murder had been in his heart. +She was not appalled nor desolated. She thought: 'So that is +murder, that little thing, that thing over in a minute!' It +appeared to her that murder in the concrete was less dreadful than +murder in the abstract, far less horrible than the strident sound +of the word on the lips of a newsboy, or the look of it in the +'Signal.' She felt dimly that she ought to be shocked, unnerved, +terrified, at the prospect of living, eating, and sleeping with a +man who had meant to kill. But she could not summon these +sensations. She merely experienced a kind of pity for John. She put +the episode away from her, as being closed, accidental, and +unimportant. Uncle Meshach was alive.</p> +<p>A few minutes before four o'clock, she went quietly into the +sick-room. Bessie, sitting upright between the beds, put her finger +to her lips. Uncle Meshach was asleep on Ethel's bed, and on the +other bed lay Rose, also asleep, stretched in a negligent attitude, +but fully dressed and wearing an old black frock that was too tight +for her. The fire burned brightly.</p> +<p>'Tea is ready in the drawing-room, ma'am,' <a name='Page256' id= +"Page256"></a><span class='pagenum'>256</span>Bessie whispered, +'and Mr. Twemlow has just called. He's waiting to see you.'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'So you know what has happened to us?'</p> +<p>'Yes,' he said, 'I met your husband on St. Luke's Square. But I +heard something before that. At one o'clock, a man told me at Knype +Station that Mr. Myatt had cut his throat on your doorstep. I +didn't believe it. So I called up Twemlow & Stanway over the +'phone and got on to the facts.'</p> +<p>'What things people say!' she exclaimed.</p> +<p>'I guess you've stood it very well,' he remarked, gazing at her, +as with quick, sure movements of her gracile hands she poured out +the tea.</p> +<p>'Ah!' she murmured, flushing, 'they sent me to bed. I have only +just got up.'</p> +<p>'I know exactly when you went to bed,' he smiled.</p> +<p>His tone filled her with satisfaction. She had hoped and +expected that he would behave naturally, that he would not adopt +the desolating attitude of gloom prescribed by convention for +sympathisers with the bereaved; and she was not disappointed. He +spoke with an easy and cheerful sincerity, and she was exquisitely +conscious of the flattery implied in that simple, direct candour +which seemed to say to her, 'You and I have no <a name='Page257' +id="Page257"></a><span class='pagenum'>257</span>need of +convention—we understand each other.' Perhaps never in her +life, not even in the wonderful felicities of girlhood, had Leonora +been more peacefully content than during those moments of calm +succeeding stress, as she met Arthur's eyes in the intimacy of a +fraternal confidence. The large room was so tranquil, the curtains +so white, and the sunlight so benignant in the caress of its amber +horizontal rays. Rose lay asleep upstairs, Ethel and Millicent were +at Oldcastle, John would not return for two hours; and she and +Arthur were alone together in the middle of the long quiet chamber, +talking quietly. She was happy. She had no fear, neither for +herself nor for him. As innocent as Rose, and more innocent than +Ethel, she now regarded the feverish experience of the dance as +accidental, a thing to be forgotten, an episode of which the +repetition was merely to be avoided; Death and the fear of Death +had come suddenly and written over its record in the page of +existence. Her present sanity and calmness and mild bliss and +self-control—these were to last, these were the real symptoms +of her condition, and of Arthur's condition. No! The memory of the +ball did not trouble her; it had not troubled her since she awoke +after the sedative. She had entered the drawing-room without a +qualm, and the instant of their meeting, anticipated on <a name= +'Page258' id="Page258"></a><span class='pagenum'>258</span>the +previous night as much in terror as in joy, had passed equably and +serenely. Relying on his strength, and exulting in her own, she had +given him her hand, and he had taken it, and that was all. She knew +her native force. She knew that she had the precious and rare gift +of common sense, and she was perfectly convinced that this common +sense, which had never long deserted her in the past, could never +permanently desert her in the future. She imagined that nothing was +stronger than common sense; she had small suspicion that in their +noblest hours men and women have invariably despised common sense, +and trampled it underfoot as the most contemptible of human +attributes. Therefore she was content and unalarmed. And she found +pleasure even in trifles, as, for example, that the maid had set +two cups-and-saucers and two only; the duality struck her as +delicious. She looked close at Arthur's sagacious, shrewd, and +kindly face, with the heavy, clipped moustache, and the bluish +chin, and those grey hairs at the sides of the forehead. 'We belong +to the same generation, he and I,' she thought, eating bread and +butter with relish, 'and we are not so very old, after all!' Aunt +Hannah was incomparably older, ripe for death. Who could be +profoundly moved by that unimportant, that trivial, demise? +<a name='Page259' id="Page259"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>259</span>She felt very sorry for Uncle Meshach, but no +more than that. Such sentiments may have the appearance of +callousness, but they were the authentic sentiments of Leonora, and +Leonora was not callous. The financial aspect of Aunt Hannah's +death, as it affected John and herself and the girls and their +home, did not disturb her. She was removed far above finance, far +above any preoccupation about the latter years, as she sat talking +quietly and blissfully with Arthur in the drawing-room.</p> +<p>'Yes,' she was telling him, 'it was just opposite the +Clayton-Vernons' that I met them.'</p> +<p>'Where the elm-trees spread over the road?' he questioned.</p> +<p>She nodded, pleased by his minute interest in her narrative and +by his knowledge of the neighbourhood. 'I saw them both a long way +off, walking quickly, under a gas-lamp. And it's very curious, but +although I was so anxious to know what had happened, I couldn't go +on to meet them—I was obliged to wait until they came up. And +they didn't notice me at first, and then Ethel shrieked out: "Oh, +it's mother!" And Milly said: "Aunt Hannah's dead, mother. Is Uncle +Meshach dead?" You can't understand how queer I felt. I felt as if +Milly would go on asking and asking: "Is father dead? <a name= +'Page260' id="Page260"></a><span class='pagenum'>260</span>Is +Bessie dead? Is Bran dead? Are you dead?"'</p> +<p>'I know,' he said reflectively.</p> +<p>She guessed that he envied her the strange nocturnal adventure. +And her secret pride in the adventure, which hitherto she had +endeavoured to suppress, suddenly became open and legitimate. She +allowed her face to disclose the thought: 'You see that I too have +lived through crises, and that I can appreciate how wonderful they +are.' And she proceeded to give him all the details of Aunt +Hannah's death, as she had learnt them from Ethel and Milly during +the walk home through sleeping Hillport: how the servant had grown +alarmed, and had called a neighbour by breaking a bedroom window +with a broomstick, leaning from Aunt Hannah's window, and how the +neighbour's eldest boy had run for Dr. Adams and had caught him in +the street just as he was returning home, and how Aunt Hannah was +gone before the boy came back with Dr. Adams, and how no one could +guess what had happened to Uncle Meshach, and no one could suggest +what to do, until Ethel and Milly knocked at the door.</p> +<p>'Isn't it all strange? Don't you think it's strange?' Leonora +demanded.</p> +<p><a name='Page261' id="Page261"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>261</span>'No,' he said. 'It seems strange, but it isn't +really. Such things are always happening.'</p> +<p>'Are they?' She spoke naïvely, with a girlish inflection +and a girlish gesture.</p> +<p>'Well, of course!' He smiled gravely, and yet humorously. And +his eyes said: 'What a charming simple thing you are!' And she +liked to think of his superiority over her in experience, +knowledge, imperturbability, breadth of view, and all those kindred +qualities which women give to the men they admire.</p> +<p>They could not talk further on the subject.</p> +<p>'By the by, how's your foot?' he inquired.</p> +<p>'My foot?'</p> +<p>'Yes. You hurt it last night, didn't you, after I'd gone?'</p> +<p>She had completely forgotten the trifling fiction, until it thus +rather startlingly reappeared on his lips. She might easily have +let it die naturally, had she chosen; but she could not choose. She +had a whim to kill it violently, romantically.</p> +<p>'No,' she said, 'I didn't hurt it.'</p> +<p>'It was your husband was telling me.'</p> +<p>She went on joyously and fearfully: 'Some one asked me to dance, +after—after the Blue Danube. And I didn't want to; I +couldn't. <a name='Page262' id="Page262"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>262</span>And so I said I had hurt my foot. It was just +one of those things that one says, you know!'</p> +<p>He was embarrassed; he had no remark ready. But to preserve +appearances he lowered the corners of his lips and glanced at the +copper tea-kettle through half-closed eyes, feigning to suppress a +private amusement. She was quite aware, however, that she had +embarrassed him. And just as, a minute earlier, she had liked him +for his lordly, masculine, philosophic superiority, so now she +liked him for that youthful embarrassment. She felt that all men +were equally child-like to women, and that the most adorable were +the most child-like. 'How little you understand, after all!' she +thought. 'Poor boy, I unlatched the door, and you dared not push it +open! You were afraid of committing an indiscretion. But I will +guide and protect you, and protect us both.'</p> +<p>This was the woman who, half an hour ago, had been exulting in +the adequacy of her common sense. Innocent and enchanting creature, +with the rashness of innocence!</p> +<p>'I guess I couldn't dance again after the Blue Danube, either,' +he said at length, boldly.</p> +<p>She made no answer; perhaps she was a little intimidated; but +she looked at him with eyes and lips full of latent vivacity.</p> +<p>'That was why I left,' he finished firmly. <a name='Page263' id= +"Page263"></a><span class='pagenum'>263</span>There was in his tone +a hint of that engaging and piquant antagonism which springs up +between lovers and dies away; he had the air of telling her that +since she had invited a confession she was welcome to it.</p> +<p>She retreated, still admiring, and said evenly that the ball had +been a great success.</p> +<p>Soon afterwards Ethel and Milly unexpectedly entered the room. +They had put on the formal aspect of dejection which they deemed +proper for them, but on perceiving that their elders were talking +quite naturally, they at once abandoned constraint and became +natural too. From the sight of their unaffected pleasure in seeing +Arthur Twemlow again, Leonora drew further sustenance for her mood +of serene content.</p> +<p>'Just fancy, Mr. Twemlow,' Millicent burst out. 'We walked all +the way to Oldcastle, and we never thought, and no one reminded us. +It's father's fault, really.'</p> +<p>'What is father's fault, really?'</p> +<p>'It's Thursday afternoon and the shops were all shut. We shall +have to go to-morrow morning.'</p> +<p>'Ah!' he said. 'The stores don't shut on Thursday afternoon in +New York.'</p> +<p>'Mother will be able to come with us to-morrow morning,' said +Ethel, and approaching <a name='Page264' id= +"Page264"></a><span class='pagenum'>264</span>Leonora she asked: +'Are you all right, mother?'</p> +<p>This simple, familiar conversation, and the free movements of +the girls, and the graver suavity of Arthur and herself, seemed to +Leonora to constitute a picture, a scene, of mysterious and +profound charm.</p> +<p>Arthur rose to depart. The girls wished him to stay, but Leonora +did not support them. In a house where an aged relative lay ill, +and that relative so pathetically bereaved, it was not meet that a +visitor should remain too long. Immediately he had gone she began +to anticipate their next meeting. The eagerness of that +anticipation surprised her. And, moreover, the environment of her +life closed quickly round her; she could not ignore it. She +demanded of herself what was Arthur's excuse for calling, and how +it was that she should be so happy in the midst of woe and death. +Her joyous confidence was shaken. Feeling that on such a day she +ought to have been something other than a delicate châtelaine +idly dispensing tea in a drawing-room, she went upstairs, +determined to find some useful activity.</p> +<p>The light was failing in the sick-room, and the fire shone +brighter. Bessie had disappeared, and Rose sat in her place. Uncle +Meshach still slept.</p> +<p>'Have you had a good rest, my dear?' she <a name='Page265' id= +"Page265"></a><span class='pagenum'>265</span>whispered, kissing +Rose fondly. 'You had better go downstairs. I've had some tea, and +I'll take charge here now.'</p> +<p>'Very well,' the girl assented, yawning. 'Who's that just +gone?'</p> +<p>'Mr. Twemlow.'</p> +<p>'Oh, mother!' Rose exclaimed in angry disappointment. 'Why +didn't some one tell me he was here?'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'The cortège will move at 2.15,' said the mourning +invitation cards, and on Saturday at two o'clock Uncle Meshach, +dressed in deep black, sat on a cane-chair against the wall in the +bedroom of his late sister. He had not been able to conceive +Hannah's funeral without himself as chief mourner, and therefore he +had accomplished his own recovery in the amazing period of fifty +hours; and in addition to accomplishing his recovery he had given +an uninterrupted series of the most minute commands concerning the +arrangements for the obsequies. Protests had been utterly useless. +'It will kill him,' said Leonora to the doctor as Meshach, risen +straight out of bed, was getting into a cab at Hillport that +morning to drive to Church Street. 'It may,' old Hawley answered. +'But what can one do?' Smiling, first at Meshach, and then at +Leonora, the doctor had joined his <a name='Page266' id= +"Page266"></a><span class='pagenum'>266</span>aged patient in the +cab and they had gone off together.</p> +<p>Next to the cane-chair was Hannah's mahogany bed, which had been +stripped. On the bed lay a massive oaken coffin, and, accurately +fitted into the coffin, lay the withered remains of Meshach's +slave. The prim and spotless bedroom, with its chest of drawers, +its small glass, its three-cornered wardrobe, its narrow washstand, +its odd bonnet-boxes, its trunk, its skirts hung inside-out behind +the door, its Bible with the spectacle-case on it, its texts, its +miniature portraits, its samplers, framed in maple, and its +engraving of the infant John Wesley being saved from the fire at +Epworth Vicarage, framed in gold, was eloquent of the habits of the +woman who had used it, without ambition, without repining, and +without hope, save an everlasting hope, for more than fifty +years.</p> +<p>Into this room, obedient to the rigid etiquette of an +old-fashioned Five Towns funeral, every person asked to the burial +was bound to come, in order to take a last look at the departed, +and to offer a few words of sympathy to the chief mourner. As they +entered—Stanway, David Dain, Fred Ryley, Dr. Hawley, Leonora, +the servant, and lastly Arthur Twemlow—unwillingly +desecrating the almost sæcular modesty of the <a name='Page267' +id="Page267"></a><span class='pagenum'>267</span>chamber, Meshach +received them one by one with calmness, with detachment, with the +air of the curator of the museum. 'Here she is,' his mien +indicated. 'That is to say, what's left. Gaze your fill.' Beyond a +monotonous 'Thank ye, thank ye,' in response to expressions of +sympathy for him, and of appreciation of Hannah's manifold +excellences, he made no remarks to any one except Leonora and +Arthur Twemlow.</p> +<p>'Has that ginger wine come?' he asked Leonora anxiously. The +feast after the sepulture was as important, and as strictly +controlled by etiquette, as the lying-in-state. Leonora, who had +charge of the meal, was able to give him an affirmative.</p> +<p>'I'm glad as you've come,' he said to Twemlow. 'I had a fancy +for you to see her again as soon as they told me you was back. Her +makes a good corpse, eh?'</p> +<p>Twemlow agreed. 'To die suddenly, that's the best,' he murmured +awkwardly; he did not know what to say.</p> +<p>'Her was a good sister, a good sister!' Meshach pronounced with +an emotion which was doubtless genuine and profound, but which +superficially resembled that of an examiner awarding pass-marks to +a pupil. 'By the way, Twemlow,' he added as Arthur was leaving the +room, 'didst <a name='Page268' id="Page268"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>268</span>ever thrash that business out wi' our John? +I've been thinking over a lot of things while I was fast abed up +yon'.'</p> +<p>Arthur stared at him.</p> +<p>'Thou knowst what I mean?' continued Meshach, putting his thin +tremulous hand on the edge of the coffin in order to rise from the +chair.</p> +<p>'Yes,' Arthur replied, 'I know. I haven't settled it yet, I +haven't had time.'</p> +<p>'I should ha' thought thou'dst had time enough, lad,' said +Meshach.</p> +<p>Then the undertaker's men adjusted the lid of the coffin, hiding +Aunt Hannah's face, and screwed in the eight brass screws, and +clumped down the dark stairs with their burden, and so across the +pavement between two rows of sluttish sightseers, to the hearse. +Uncle Meshach, with the aid only of his stick, entered the first +coach; John Stanway and Fred Ryley—the rules of precedence +were thus inflexible!—occupied the second; and Arthur +Twemlow, with the family lawyer and the family doctor, took the +third. Leonora remained in the house with the servant to spread the +feast.</p> +<p>The church was barely four hundred yards away, and in less than +half an hour they were all in the house again; all save Aunt +Hannah, who had already, in the vault of the Myatts, passed the +first five minutes of the tedium of waiting for <a name='Page269' +id="Page269"></a><span class='pagenum'>269</span>the Day of +Judgment. And now, as they gathered round the fish, the fowl, the +ham, the cake, the preserves, the tea, the wines and the spirits, +etiquette demanded that they should be cheerful, should show a +resignation to the will of heaven, and should eat heartily. And +although the rapid-ticking clock on the mantelpiece in the parlour +pointed only to a little better than three o'clock they were +obliged to eat heartily, for fear of giving pain to Uncle Meshach; +to drink much was not essential, but nothing could have excused +abstention from the solid fare. The repast, actively conducted by +the mourning host, was not finished until nearly half-past four. +Then Twemlow and the doctor said that they must leave.</p> +<p>'Nay, nay,' Meshach complained. 'There's the will to be read. +It's right and proper as all the guests should hear the will, and +it'll take nobbut a few minutes.'</p> +<p>The enfeebled old man talked more and more the dialect which his +father and mother had talked over his cradle.</p> +<p>'Better without us, old friend!' the doctor said jauntily. +'Besides, my patients!' And by dint of blithe obstinacy he managed +to get away, and also to cover the retreat of Twemlow.</p> +<p>'I shall call in a day or two,' said Arthur to Uncle Meshach as +they shook hands.</p> +<p><a name='Page270' id="Page270"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>270</span>'Ay! call and see th' old ruin!' Meshach +replied, and dropping back into his chair, 'Now, Dain!' he +ordered.</p> +<p>David Dain drew a long white envelope from his breast +pocket.</p> +<p>'"This is the last will and testament of me, Hannah Margaret +Myatt,"' the lawyer began to read quickly in his thick voice, '"of +Church Street, Bursley, in the county of Stafford, spinster. I +commit my body to the grave and my soul to God in the sure hope of +a blessed resurrection through my Redeemer the Lord Jesus Christ. I +bequeath ten pounds each to my dear nephew John Stanway, and to his +wife Leonora, to purchase mourning at my decease, and five pounds +each for the same purpose to my dear great-nephew Frederick +Wellington Ryley, and to my great-nieces Ethel, Rosalys, and +Millicent Stanway, and to any other children of the said John and +Leonora Stanway should they have such, and should such children +survive me." This will is dated twelve years ago,' the lawyer +stopped to explain. He continued: '"I further bequeath to my +great-nephew Frederick Wellington Ryley the sum of two hundred and +fifty pounds."'</p> +<p>'Something for you there, Frederick Wellington Ryley!' exclaimed +Stanway in a frigid tone, biting his thumb and looking up at the +ceiling.</p> +<p><a name='Page271' id="Page271"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>271</span>Ryley blushed. He had scarcely spoken during +the meal, and he did not break his silence now.</p> +<p>With much verbiage the will proceeded to state that the +testatrix left the residue of her private savings to Meshach, 'to +dispose of absolutely according to his own discretion,' in case he +should survive her; and that in case she should survive him she +left her private savings and the whole of the estate of which she +and Meshach were joint tenants to John Stanway.</p> +<p>'There is a short codicil,' Dain added, 'which revokes the +legacy of two hundred and fifty pounds to Mr. Ryley in case Mr. +Myatt should survive the testatrix. It is dated some six months +ago.'</p> +<p>'Kindly read it,' said Stanway coldly.</p> +<p>'With pleasure,' the lawyer agreed, and he read it.</p> +<p>'Then, as it turns out,' Stanway remarked, looking defiantly at +his uncle, 'Ryley gets nothing but five pounds under this +will.'</p> +<p>'Under this will, nephew,' the old man assented.</p> +<p>'And may one inquire,' Stanway persisted, 'the nature of your +intentions in regard to aunt's savings which she leaves you to +dispose of according to your discretion?'</p> +<p><a name='Page272' id="Page272"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>272</span>'What dost mean, nephew?'</p> +<p>Leonora saw with anxiety that her husband, while intending to be +calm, pompous, and superior, was, in fact, losing control of +himself.</p> +<p>'I mean,' said John, 'are you going to distribute them?'</p> +<p>'No, nephew. They're well enough where they lie. I shall none +touch 'em.'</p> +<p>Stanway gave the sigh of a martyr who has sufficient spirit to +be disdainful. Throwing his serviette on the disordered table, he +pushed back his chair and stood up. 'You'll excuse me now, uncle,' +he said, bitterly polite, 'I must be off to the works. Ryley, I +shall want you.' And without another word he left the room and the +house.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Leonora was the last to go. Meshach would not allow her to stay +after the tea-things were washed up. He declined firmly every offer +of help or companionship, and since the middle-aged servant made no +objection to being alone with her convalescent master, Leonora +could only submit to his wishes.</p> +<p>When she was gone he lighted his pipe. At seven o'clock, the +servant came into the parlour and found him dozing in the dark; his +pipe hung loosely from his teeth.</p> +<p>'Eh, mester,' she cried, lighting the gas. <a name='Page273' id= +"Page273"></a><span class='pagenum'>273</span>'Hadn't ye better go +to bed? Ye've had a worriting day.'</p> +<p>'Happen I'd better,' he answered deliberately, taking hold of +the pipe and adjusting his spectacles.</p> +<p>'Can ye undress yeself?' she asked him.</p> +<p>'Ay,' he said, 'I can do that, wench. My candle!'</p> +<p>And he went carefully up to bed.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page274' id="Page274"></a><span class='pagenum'>274</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X' id="CHAPTER_X"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>IN THE GARDEN</h3> +<p>'Father's in a horrid temper. Did anything go wrong?' said Rose, +when Leonora reached Hillport.</p> +<p>'No,' Leonora replied. 'Where is he?'</p> +<p>'In the drawing-room. He says he won't have any tea.'</p> +<p>'You must remember, my dear, that your father has been through a +great deal this last day or two.'</p> +<p>'So have all of us, as far as that goes,' Rose stated +ruthlessly. 'However——' She turned away, shrugging her +shoulders.</p> +<p>Leonora wondered by means of what sad experience Rose would +ultimately discover that, whereas men have the right to cry out +when they are hurt, it is the whole business of a woman's life to +suffer in cheerful silence. She sat with the girls during tea, +drinking a cup for the sake of form, and giving them disconnected +items of information about the funeral, which at their own <a name= +'Page275' id="Page275"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>275</span>passionate request they had been excused from +attending. The talk was carried on in low tones, so that the rattle +of a spoon in a saucer sounded loud and distinct. And in the +drawing-room John steadily perused the 'Signal,' column by column, +from the announcement of 'Pink Dominoes' at the Hanbridge Theatre +Royal on the first page, to the bait of a sporting bookmaker in +Holland at the end of the last. The evening was desolating, but +Leonora endured it with philosophy, because she appreciated John's +state of mind.</p> +<p>It was the disclosure of the legacy of two hundred and fifty +pounds to Fred Ryley, and of the recent conditional revocation of +that legacy, which had galled her husband's sensibilities by +bringing home to him what he had lost through Aunt Hannah's sudden +death and through the senile whim of Uncle Meshach to alter his +will. He could well have tolerated Meshach's refusal to distribute +Aunt Hannah's savings immediately (Leonora thought), had the old +man's original testament remained uncancelled. Once upon a time, +Ryley, the despised poor relation, the offspring of an outcast from +the family, was to have been put off with two hundred and fifty +pounds, and the bulk of the Myatt joint fortune was to have passed +in any case to John. The <a name='Page276' id= +"Page276"></a><span class='pagenum'>276</span>withdrawal of the +paltry legacy, as shown in the codicil, was the outward and +irritating sign that Ryley had been lifted from his humble position +to the level of John himself. John, of course, had known months ago +that he and Ryley stood level in the hazard of gaining the +inheritance, but the history of the legacy, revealed after the +funeral, aroused his disgusted imagination, as it had not been +roused before.</p> +<p>He was beaten; and, more important, he knew it now; he had the +incensed, futile, malevolent, devil-may-care feeling of being +beaten. He bitterly invited Fate not to stop at half-measures but +to come on and do her worst. And Fate, with that mysterious +responsiveness which often distinguishes her movements, came on. +'Of course! I might have expected it!' John exclaimed savagely, two +days later, when he received a circular to the effect that a small +and desperate minority of shareholders were trying to put the +famous brewery company into liquidation under the supervision of +the Court. The shares fell another five in twenty-four hours. The +Bursley Conservative Club knew positively the same night that John +had 'got out' at a ruinous loss, and this episode seemed to give +vigorous life to certain rumours, hitherto faint, that John and his +uncle had violently quarrelled <a name='Page277' id= +"Page277"></a><span class='pagenum'>277</span>at his aunt's +funeral, and that when Meshach died Fred Ryley would be found to be +the heir. Other rumours, that Ethel Stanway and Fred Ryley were +about to be secretly married, that Dain would have been the owner +of Prince but for the difference between guineas and pounds, and +that the real object of Arthur Twemlow's presence in the Five Towns +was to buy up the concern of Twemlow & Stanway, were received +with reserve, though not entirely discredited. The town, however, +was more titillated than perturbed, for every one said that old +Meshach, for the sake of the family's good name, would never under +any circumstances permit a catastrophe to occur. The town saw +little of Meshach now—he had almost ceased to figure in the +streets; it knew, however, the Myatt pride in the Myatt +respectability.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Leonora sympathised with John, but her sympathy, weakened by his +surliness, was also limited by her ignorance of his real plight, +and by the secret preoccupation of her own existence. From the +evening of the funeral the desire to see Arthur again, to study his +features, to hear his voice, definitely took the uppermost place in +her mind. She thought of him always, and she ceased to pretend to +herself that this was not so. <a name='Page278' id= +"Page278"></a><span class='pagenum'>278</span>She continually +expected him to call, or to meet some one who had met him, or to +receive a letter from him. She forced her memory to reconstitute in +detail his last visit to Hillport, and all the exacerbating scene +of the funeral feast, in order that she might dwell tenderly upon +his gestures, his glances, his remarks, the inflections of his +voice. The eyes of her soul were ever beholding his form. Even at +breakfast, after the disappointment of the post, she would indulge +in ridiculous hopes that he might be abroad very early and would +look in, and not until bedtime did she cease to listen for his ring +at the front door. No chance of a meeting was too remote for her +wild fancy. But she dared not breathe his name, dared not even +adumbrate an inquiry; and her husband and daughters appeared to +have entered into a compact not to mention him. She did not take +counsel with herself, examine herself, demand from herself what was +the significance of these symptoms; she could not; she could only +live from one moment to the next engrossed in an eternal expectancy +which instead of slackening became hourly more intense and painful. +Towards the close of the afternoon of the third day, in the +drawing-room, she whispered that something decisive must happen +soon, soon.... The bell rang; her ears caught the distant sound for +<a name='Page279' id="Page279"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>279</span>which they had so long waited. Shuddering, she +thanked heaven that she was alone. She could hear the opening and +closing of the front door. In three seconds Bessie would appear. +She heard the knob of the drawing-room door turn, and to hide her +agitation she glanced aside at the clock. It was a quarter to six. +'He will stay the evening,' she thought.</p> +<p>'Mr. Dain,' Bessie proclaimed.</p> +<p>'Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Stanway? Stanway not come in yet, eh?' +said the stout lawyer, approaching her hurriedly with his fussy, +awkward gait.</p> +<p>She could have laughed; but the visit was at any rate a +distraction.</p> +<p>A few minutes later John arrived.</p> +<p>'Dain will stay for tea, Nora. Eh, Dain?' he said.</p> +<p>'Well—thanks,' was Dain's reply.</p> +<p>She asked herself, with sudden misgiving, what new thing was +afoot.</p> +<p>After tea, the two men were left together at the table.</p> +<p>'Mother,' Ethel inquired eagerly, coming into the drawing-room, +'why are father and Mr. Dain measuring the dining-room?'</p> +<p>'I don't know,' said Leonora. 'Are they?'</p> +<p>'Yes, Mr. Dain has got ever such a long tape.'</p> +<p><a name='Page280' id="Page280"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>280</span>Leonora went into the kitchen and talked to the +cook.</p> +<p>The next morning an idea occurred to her. Since the funeral, the +girls had been down to see Uncle Meshach each afternoon, and +Leonora had called at Church Street in the forenoon, so that the +solitude of the old man might be broken at least twice a day. When +she had suggested the arrangement to her husband, John had answered +stiffly, with an unimpeachable righteousness, that everything +possible must be done for his uncle. On this fourth day, Leonora +sent Ethel and Milly in the morning, with a message that she +herself would come in the afternoon, by way of change. The phrase +that sang in her head was Arthur's promise to Meshach: 'I shall +call in a day or two.' She knew that he had not yet called. 'Don't +wait tea, if I should be late, dears,' she said smilingly to the +girls; 'I may stay with uncle a while.' And she nearly ran out of +the house.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>When they had had tea, and when Leonora had performed the +delicate feat of arranging Uncle Meshach's domestic affairs without +affronting his servant, she sat down opposite to him before the +fire in the parlour.</p> +<p>'<a name='Page281' id="Page281"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>281</span>You're for stopping a bit, eh?' he said, as if +surprised.</p> +<p>'Well,' she laughed, 'wouldn't you like me to?'</p> +<p>'Oh, ay!' he admitted readily, 'I'st like it well enough. I +don't know but what you aren't all on ye very good—you and +th' wenches, and Fred as calls in of nights. But it's all one to +me, I reckon. I take no pleasure i' life. Nay,' he went on, 'it +isn't because of <i>her</i>. I've felt as I was done for for months +past. I mun just drag on.'</p> +<p>'Don't talk like that, uncle.' She tried conventionally to cheer +him. 'You must rouse yourself.'</p> +<p>'What for?'</p> +<p>She sought a good answer to this conundrum. 'For all of us,' she +said lamely, at length.</p> +<p>'Leonora, my lass,' he remarked drily, 'you're no better than +the rest of 'em.'</p> +<p>And as she sat there in the age-worn parlour, and thought of the +distant days of his energy, when with his own hands he had pulled +down a wall and replaced it by a glass partition, and of the night +when he lay like a corpse on Ethel's bed at the mercy of his +nephew, and of Aunt Hannah resting in the cold tomb just at the end +of the street, her heart was filled for a moment with an <a name= +'Page282' id="Page282"></a><span class='pagenum'>282</span>awful, +ineffable, devastating sadness. It seemed to her that every grief, +anxiety, apprehension was joy itself compared to this supreme +tragedy of natural decay.</p> +<p>'Shall I light the gas?' she suggested. The room was always +obscure, and that evening happened to be a sombre one.</p> +<p>'Ay!'</p> +<p>'There!' she said brightly, when the gas flared, 'that's better, +isn't it? Aren't you going to smoke?'</p> +<p>'Ay!'</p> +<p>In reaching a second spill from the spill-jar on the mantelpiece +she noticed the clock. It was only a quarter past five. 'He may +call yet,' she dreamed, and then a more piquant thought: 'He may be +at home when I get back.'</p> +<p>There was a perfunctory knock at the house-door. She +started.</p> +<p>'It's the "Signal" lad,' Meshach explained. 'He keeps on +bringing it, but I never look at it.'</p> +<p>She went into the lobby for the paper, and then read aloud to +Uncle Meshach the items of local news. The clock showed a quarter +to six. Suddenly it struck her that Arthur Twemlow might have +called quite early in the afternoon and that Meshach might have +forgotten to tell her. If he had perchance called, and perchance +informed <a name='Page283' id="Page283"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>283</span>Meshach that he was going on to Hillport, and +if he had walked up by the road while she came down by the fields! +The idea was too dreadful.</p> +<p>'Has Mr. Twemlow been to see you yet?' she demanded, after a +long silence, pretending to be interested in the 'Signal.'</p> +<p>'No,' said Meshach; 'why dost ask?'</p> +<p>'I remembered he said he should.'</p> +<p>'He'll come, he'll come,' Meshach murmured confidently. 'Dain's +been in,' he added, 'wi' papers to sign, probate o' Hannah's will. +Seemingly John's not satisfied, from what Dain hints.'</p> +<p>'Not satisfied with what?' Flushing a little, she dropped the +paper; but she was still busily employed in expecting Arthur to +arrive.</p> +<p>'Eh, I canna' tell you, lass.' Meshach gave a grim sigh. 'You +know as I altered my will?'</p> +<p>'Jack mentioned it.'</p> +<p>'Me and her, we thought it over. It was her as first said that +Fred was getting a nice young chap, and very respectable, and why +should he be left out in the cold? And so I says to her, I says, +"Well, you can make your will i' favour o' Fred, if you've a mind." +"Nay, Meshach," her says, "never ask me to cut out our John's +name." "Well," I says to her, "if you won't, I will. It'll give 'em +both an even chance. Us'n die pretty near together, me and you, +Hannah, it'll <a name='Page284' id="Page284"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>284</span>be a toss-up," I says. Wasn't that fair?' +Leonora made no reply. 'Wasn't that fair?' he repeated.</p> +<p>She could not be sure, even then, whether Uncle Meshach had +devised in perfect seriousness this extraordinary arrangement for +dealing justly between the surviving members of the Myatt family, +or whether he had always had a private humorous appreciation of the +fantastic element in it.</p> +<p>'I don't know,' she said.</p> +<p>'Well, lass,' he continued persuasively, sitting up in his +chair, 'us ignored young Fred for more till twenty year. And it +wasna' right. Hannah said it wasna' right as Fred should suffer for +his mother and his grandfeyther. And then us give Fred and your +John an equal chance, and John's lost, and now John isna' +satisfied, by all accounts.' She gazed at him with a gentle smile. +'Why dostna' speak, lass?'</p> +<p>'What am I to say, uncle?'</p> +<p>'Wouldst like me to make a new will, and halve it between John +and Fred? It wouldna' be fair to Fred, not rightly fair, because +he's run his risk for th' lot. But wouldst like it, lass?'</p> +<p>There was a trace of the old vitality in his shrivelled +features, as he laid this offering on the altar of her feminine +charm.</p> +<p>'Oh, do, uncle!' she was about to say eagerly, <a name='Page285' +id="Page285"></a><span class='pagenum'>285</span>but she thought in +the same instant of John standing over Meshach's body, with the +ice-cold cloth in his hand, and something, some dim instinct of a +fundamental propriety, prevented her from uttering those words. 'I +would like you to do whatever you think right,' she answered with +calmness.</p> +<p>Meshach was evidently disappointed.</p> +<p>'I shall see,' he ejaculated. And after a pause, 'John's i' +smooth water again, isn't he? I meant to ask Dain.'</p> +<p>'I think so,' said Leonora.</p> +<p>She had become restive. Soon afterwards she bade him good-night +and departed. And all the way up to Hillport she speculated upon +the chances of finding Arthur in her drawing-room when she got +home.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>As she passed through the hall she knew at once that Arthur was +not in the house and had not been there; and the agitation of her +heart subsided suddenly into the melancholy stillness of defeated +hope. She sadly admitted that she no longer knew herself, and that +the Leonora of old had been supplanted by a creature of +incalculable moods, a feeble victim of strange crises of secret +folly. Through the open door of the drawing-room she could see Rose +reading, and <a name='Page286' id="Page286"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>286</span>Millicent searching among a pile of music on +the piano. Bessie emerged from the dining-room with a white cloth +and the crumb-tray.</p> +<p>'Master's in there,' said Bessie; 'they didn't wait tea, +ma'am.'</p> +<p>Leonora went into the dining-room, where John sat alone at the +bare mahogany, smoking. With her deep knowledge of him, she +detected instantly that he had been annoyed by her absence from +tea. The condition of the sharp end of his cigar showed that he was +perturbed, fretful, and perhaps in a state of suspense. 'Well,' she +thought with resignation, 'I may as well play the wife,' and she +sat down in a chair near him, put her purse on the table, and +smiled generously. Then she raised her veil, loosed the buttons of +her new black coat, and began to draw off her gloves.</p> +<p>'I've been waiting for you,' he said, and to her surprise his +tone was extremely pacific.</p> +<p>'Have you?' she answered, intensifying all her alluring grace. +'I hurried home.'</p> +<p>'Yes, I wanted to ask you——' He stopped, ostensibly +to put the cigar into his meerschaum holder.</p> +<p>She perceived that the desire to ingratiate fought within him +against his vexation, and she wondered, with a touch of cynicism, +what new <a name='Page287' id="Page287"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>287</span>scheme had got possession of him, and how her +assistance was necessary to it.</p> +<p>'Would you like to go and live in the country, Nora?' He looked +at her audaciously for a moment and then his eyes shifted.</p> +<p>'For the summer, you mean?'</p> +<p>'Yes,' he said, 'for the summer and the winter too. Somewhere +out Sneyd way.'</p> +<p>'And leave here?'</p> +<p>'Exactly.'</p> +<p>'But what about the house, Jack?'</p> +<p>'Sell it, if you like,' said John lightly.</p> +<p>'Oh, no! I shouldn't like that at all,' she replied, nervously +but amiably. She wished to believe that his suggestion about +selling the house was merely an idle notion thrown out on the spur +of the moment, but she could not.</p> +<p>'You wouldn't?'</p> +<p>She shook her head. 'What has made you think of going to live in +the country?' she asked him, using a tone of gentle, mild +curiosity. 'How should you get to the works in the morning?'</p> +<p>'There's a very good train service from Sneyd to Knype,' he +said. 'But look here, Nora, why wouldn't you care to sell the +house?'</p> +<p>It was perfectly clear to her that, having mortgaged her house, +he had now made up his mind to sell it. He must therefore still be +in <a name='Page288' id="Page288"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>288</span>financial difficulties, and she had unwittingly +misled Uncle Meshach.</p> +<p>'I don't know,' she answered coldly. 'I can't explain to you +why. But I shouldn't.' And she privately resolved that nothing +should induce her to assent to this monstrous proposal. Her heart +hardened to steel. She felt prepared to suffer any unpleasantness, +any indignity, rather than give way.</p> +<p>'It isn't as if Hillport wasn't changing,' he went on, politely +argumentative. 'It is changing. In another ten years all the decent +estates will have been broken up, and we shall be left alone in the +middle of streets of villas rented at nineteen guineas to escape +the house duty. You know the sort of thing.... And I've had a very +fair offer for the place.'</p> +<p>'Whom from?'</p> +<p>'Well, Dain. I know he's wanted the house a long time. Of +course, he's a hard nut to crack, is Dain. But he went up to two +thousand, and yesterday I got him to make it guineas. That's a good +price, Nora.'</p> +<p>'Is it?' she exclaimed absently.</p> +<p>'I should just imagine it was!' said John.</p> +<p>So it was expected of her that she should surrender her home, +her domain, her kingdom, the beautiful and mellow creation of her +intelli<a name='Page289' id="Page289"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>289</span>gence; and that she should surrender it to +David Dain, and to the impossible Mrs. Dain, and to their +impossible niece. She remembered one of Milly's wicked tales about +Mrs. Dain and the niece. Milly had met Mrs. Dain in the street, and +in response to an inquiry about the health of the hypochondriacal +niece, Mrs. Dain, gorgeously attired, had replied: 'Her had but +just rallied up off th' squab as I come out.' These were the people +who wanted to evict her from her house. And they would cover its +walls with new papers, and its floors with new carpets, in their +own appalling taste; and they would crowd the rooms with furniture +as fat, clumsy, and disgusting as themselves. And Mrs. Dain would +hold sewing meetings in the drawing-room, and would stand +chattering with tradesmen at the front door, and would drive out to +Sneyd to pay a call on Leonora and tell her how <i>pleased</i> they +all were with the place!</p> +<p>'Do you absolutely need the money, John?' She came to the point +with a frank, blunt directness which angered him.</p> +<p>'I don't absolutely need anything,' he retorted, controlling +himself. 'But Dain made the offer——'</p> +<p>'Because if you do,' she proceeded, 'I dare say Uncle +Meshach——'</p> +<p><a name='Page290' id="Page290"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>290</span>'Look here, my girl,' he interrupted in turn, +'I've had exactly as much of Uncle Meshach as I can stand. I know +all about Uncle Meshach, what I wanted to know was whether you +cared to sell the house.' And then he added, after hesitating, and +with a false graciousness, 'To oblige me.'</p> +<p>There was a marked pause.</p> +<p>'I really shouldn't like to sell the house, John,' she answered +quietly. 'It was aunt's, and——'</p> +<p>'Enough said! enough said!' he cried. 'That finishes it. I +suppose you don't mind my having asked you!'</p> +<p>He walked out of the room in a rage.</p> +<p>Tears came into her eyes, the tears of a wounded and proud +heart. Was it conceivable that he expected her to be willing to +sell her house?... He must indeed be in serious straits. She would +consult Uncle Meshach.</p> +<p>The front door banged. And then Rose entered the room.</p> +<p>Leonora drove back the tears.</p> +<p>'Your father has been suggesting that we sell this house, and go +and live at Sneyd,' she said to the girl in a trembling voice. +'Aren't you surprised?' She seldom talked about John to her +<a name='Page291' id="Page291"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>291</span>daughters, but at that moment a desire for +sympathy overwhelmed her.</p> +<p>'I should never be surprised at anything where father was +concerned,' said Rose coldly, with a slight hint of aloofness and +of mental superiority. 'Not at anything.'</p> +<p>Leonora got up, and, leaving the room, went into the garden +through the side door opposite the stable. She could hear Millicent +practising the Jewel Song from Gounod's <i>Faust</i>. As she passed +down the sombre garden the sound of the piano and of Milly's voice +in the brilliant ecstatic phrases of the song grew fainter. She +shook violently, like a child who is recovering from a fit of sobs, +and without thinking she fastened her coat. 'What a shame it is +that he should want to sell my house! What a shame!' she murmured, +full of an aggrieved resentment. At the same time she was surprised +to find herself so suddenly and so deeply disturbed.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>At the foot of the long garden was a low fence separating it +from the meadow, and in the fence a wicket from which ran a faint +track to the main field-path. She leaned against the fence, a few +yards away from the wicket, at a spot where a clump of bushes +screened the house. No one could possibly have seen her from the +house, even <a name='Page292' id="Page292"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>292</span>had the bushes not been there; but she wished +to isolate herself completely, and to find tranquillity in the +isolation. The calm spring night, chill but not too cold, cloudy +but not too dark, favoured her intention. She gazed about her at +the obscure nocturnal forms of things, at the silent trees, and the +mysterious clouds gently rounded in their vast shape, and the sharp +slant of the meadow. Far below could be seen the red signal of the +railway, and, mapped in points of light on the opposite slope, the +streets of Bursley. To the right the eternal conflagration of the +Cauldon Bar furnaces illumined the sky with wavering amber. And on +the keen air came to her from the distance noises, soft but +impressive, of immense industrial activities.</p> +<p>She thought she could decipher a figure moving from the +field-path across the gloom of the meadow, and as she strained her +eyes the figure became an indubitable fact. Presently she knew that +it was Arthur. 'At last!' her heart passionately exclaimed, and she +was swept and drenched with happiness as a ship by the ocean. She +forgot everything in the tremendous shock of joy. She felt as +though she could have waited no more, and that now she might expire +in a bliss intense and fatal, in a sigh of supreme content. She +could not stir nor speak, and he <a name='Page293' id= +"Page293"></a><span class='pagenum'>293</span>was striding towards +the wicket unconscious of her nearness! She coughed, a delicate +feminine cough, and then he turned aside from the direction of the +wicket and approached the fence, peering.</p> +<p>'Is that you?' he asked.</p> +<p>'Yes.'</p> +<p>Across the fence they clasped hands. And in spite of her great +wish not to do so she clutched his hand tightly in her long +fingers, and held it for a moment. And as she felt the returning +pressure of his large, powerful, protective grasp, she +covered—but in imagination only—she covered his face, +which she could shadowily see, with brave and abandoned kisses; and +she whispered to him, but unheard: 'Admit that I am made for love.' +She feared, in those beautiful and shameless instants, neither +John, nor Ethel and Milly, nor even Rose. She knew suddenly why men +and women leave all—honour, duty, and affection—and +follow love. Then her arm dropped, and there was silence.</p> +<p>'What are you doing here?' She was unable to speak in an +ordinary tone, but she spoke. Her voice exquisitely trembled, and +its vibrations said everything that the words did not say.</p> +<p>'Why,' he answered, and his voice too bore strange messages, 'I +called at Church Street and <a name='Page294' id= +"Page294"></a><span class='pagenum'>294</span>Mr. Myatt said you +had only been gone a few minutes, and so I came right away. I +guessed I should overtake you. I don't know what he would think.' +Arthur laughed nervously.</p> +<p>She smiled at him, satisfied. And how well she knew that her +smiling face, caught by him dimly in the obscurity of the night, +troubled him like an enchanting and enigmatic vision!</p> +<p>After they had looked at each other, speechless, for a while, +the strong influence of convention forced them again into +unnecessary, irrelevant talk.</p> +<p>'What's this about you selling this place?' he inquired in a +low, mild tone.</p> +<p>'Have you heard?'</p> +<p>'Yes,' he said, 'I did hear something.'</p> +<p>'Ah!' she murmured, wrinkling her forehead in a pretty +make-believe of woe—the question of the sale had ceased to be +acute: 'I just came out here to think about it.'</p> +<p>'But you aren't really going to——'</p> +<p>'No, of course not.'</p> +<p>She had no desire to discuss the tedious affair, because she was +infallibly certain of his entire sympathy. Explanations on her +side, and assurances on his, were equally superfluous.</p> +<p>'But won't you come into the house?' She invited him as a sort +of afterthought.</p> +<p><a name='Page295' id="Page295"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>295</span>'Why?' he demanded bluntly.</p> +<p>She hesitated before replying: 'It will look so queer, us +staying here like this.' As soon as she had uttered the words she +suspected that she had said something decisive and +irretrievable.</p> +<p>He put his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and walked +several times to and fro a few paces. Then he stopped in front of +her.</p> +<p>'I guess we are bound to look queer, you and I, some day. So it +may as well be now,' he said.</p> +<p>It was in this exchange of sentences that their mutual passion +became at length articulate. A single discreet word spoken quickly, +and she might even yet perhaps have withdrawn from the situation. +But she did not speak; she could not speak; and soon she knew that +her own silence had bound her. She yielded herself with poignant +and magnificent joy to the profound drama which had been magically +created by this apparently commonplace dialogue. The climax had +been achieved, and she was conscious of being lifted into a sublime +exultation, and of being cut off from all else in the world save +him. She looked at him intently with a sadness that was the cloak +of celestial rapture. 'How courageous you are!' her soft eyes said. +'I should never have dared. What a <i>man</i>!' It seemed to her +that her heart <a name='Page296' id="Page296"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>296</span>would break under the strain of that ecstasy. +She had not imagined the possibility of such bliss.</p> +<p>'Listen!' he proceeded. 'I ought to be in New York—I +oughtn't to be here. I must tell you. Scarcely a fortnight ago, one +afternoon while I was working in my office in Fourteenth Street, I +had a feeling I would be bound to come over. I said to myself the +idea was preposterous. But the next thing I knew I was arranging to +come. I couldn't believe I was coming. Not even when I had booked +my berth and boarded the steamer, not even when the steamer was +actually passing Sandy Hook, could I believe that I was really +coming. I said to myself I was mad. I said to myself that no man in +his senses could behave as I was behaving. And when I got to +Southampton I said I would go right back. And yet I couldn't help +getting into the special for London. And when I got to London I +said I would act sensible and go back. But I met young Burgess, and +the next thing I knew I was at Euston. And here I am pretending +that it's my new London branch that brings me over, and doing +business I don't want to do in Knype and Cauldon and Bursley. And +I'm killing myself—yes, I am; I tell you I couldn't stand +much more—and I wouldn't be sure I wasn't killing you. +<a name='Page297' id="Page297"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>297</span>Some folks would say the whole thing was +perfectly dreadful, but I don't care so long as you—so long +as you don't. I'm not conceited really, but it looks like +conceit—me talking like this and assuming that you're ready +to stand and listen. I assure you it isn't conceit. I only +know—that's all. It's difficult for you to say +anything—I can feel that—but I'd like you just to tell +me you're glad I came and glad I've spoken. I'd just like to hear +that.'</p> +<p>She gazed fondly at him, at the male creature in whom she could +find only perfection, and she was filled with glorious pride that +her image should have drawn this strong, shrewd self-possessed man +across the Atlantic. It was incredible, but it was true. 'And,' +said the secret feminine in her, 'why not?'</p> +<p>He waited for her answer, facing her.</p> +<p>'Oh, yes!' she breathed. 'Oh, yes!... I'm glad—I'm so +glad.'</p> +<p>'I wish,' he broke out, 'I wish I could explain to you what I +think of you, what I feel about you. You're so quiet and simple and +direct and yet—you don't know it, but you are. You're +absolutely the most—Oh! it's no use.'</p> +<p>She saw that he was growing very excited, and this, too, gave +her deep pleasure.</p> +<p>'We're in a hell of a fix!' he sighed.</p> +<p><a name='Page298' id="Page298"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>298</span>Like many women, she took a fearful, almost +thrilling joy in hearing a man swear earnestly and religiously.</p> +<p>'That's it,' she said, 'there's nothing to be done?'</p> +<p>'Nothing to be done?' he demanded, imperiously. 'Nothing to be +done?'</p> +<p>She examined his face, which was close to hers, with a +meditative, expectant smile. She loved to see him out of repose, +eager, masterful, and daring. 'What is there to be done?' she +asked.</p> +<p>'I don't know yet,' he said firmly, 'I must think.' Then, in a +delicious surrender, she felt towards him as though they were on +the brink of a rushing river, and he was about to pick her up in +his arms, like a trifle, and carry her safely through the flood; +and she had the illusion of pressing her face, which she knew he +adored, against his shoulder.</p> +<p>'Oh, you innocent angel!' he cried, seizing her hand (she let it +lie inert), 'do you suppose I'm the sort of man to sit down and +cross my legs and say that fate, or whatever you call it, hasn't +done me right? Do you suppose that two sensible persons like you +and me are going to be beaten by a mere set of circumstances? We +aren't children, and we aren't fools.'</p> +<p><a name='Page299' id="Page299"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>299</span>'But——'</p> +<p>'You're not afraid, are you?' He drank in her charm.</p> +<p>'What of?'</p> +<p>'Anything.'</p> +<p>'It's when you aren't there,' she murmured tenderly. She really +thought, then, that by some marvellous plan he would perform the +impossible feat of reconciling the duty of fulfilling love with all +the other duties.</p> +<p>'I shall reckon it up,' he said. 'Ah!'</p> +<p>Silence fell. And with the feel of the grass under her feet, and +the soft clouds overhead, and the patient trees, and the glare in +the southern smoke, and the lamps of Bursley, and the solitary red +signal in the valley, she breathed out her spirit like an aerial +essence, and merged into unity with him. And the strange far-off +noises of nocturnal industry wandered faintly across the void and +seemed fraught with a mysterious significance. Everything, in that +unique hour, had the same mysterious significance.</p> +<p>'Mother!' Millicent's distant voice, fresh and strong and pure +in the night, chanted the word startlingly to the first notes of a +phrase from the Jewel Song. 'Mother! Aren't you coming in?' The +girl finished the phrase with inviting gaiety, holding the final +syllable. And the sound faded, <a name='Page300' id= +"Page300"></a><span class='pagenum'>300</span>went out, like the +flare of a rocket in the sky, and the dark stillness was +emphasised.</p> +<p>They did not move; they did not speak; but Leonora pressed his +hand. The passing thought of the orderly, multifarious existence of +the house behind her, of the warmed and lighted rooms, of the +preoccupied lives, only increased the felicity of her halcyon +dream. And in the dreamy and brooding silence all things retreated +and gradually lapsed away, and the pair were left sole amid the +ineffable spaces of the universe to listen to the irregular +beatings of their own hearts. Time itself had paused.</p> +<p>'Mother!' Millicent sang again, nearer, more strongly and purely +in the night. 'We are waiting for you to come in!' She varied a +little the phrase from the Jewel Song. 'To come in!' The long +sustained notes seemed to become a beautiful warning, and then the +sound expired.</p> +<p>Leonora withdrew her hand.</p> +<p>'I shall think it out, and write you to-morrow,' Arthur +whispered, and was gone.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>The next day, after a futile morning of hesitations, Leonora +decided in the afternoon that she would go out for a walk and +return in some definite state of mind. She loosed Bran, and the +dog, when he had finished his elephantine <a name='Page301' id= +"Page301"></a><span class='pagenum'>301</span>gambades, followed +her close at heel, with all stateliness, to the wide marsh on the +brow of the hill. Here she began actively and seriously to +cogitate.</p> +<p>John was sulking; and it was seldom that he sulked. He had not +spoken to her again, neither on the previous evening nor at +breakfast; he had said nothing whatever to any one, except to tell +Bessie that he should not be at home for dinner; on +committee-meeting days, when he was engaged at the Town Hall, John +sometimes dined at the Tiger. His attitude produced small effect on +Leonora. She was far too completely absorbed in herself to be +perturbed by the offensive symptoms of her husband's wrath. She had +neglected even to call on Uncle Meshach; and as she strolled about +the marsh she thought vaguely and perfunctorily that she must see +Uncle Meshach soon and acquaint him with John's difficulties.</p> +<p>Pride as much as joy and alarm filled her heart. She was proud +of her perilous love; she would have liked proudly to confide it to +some friend, some mature and brilliant woman who knew the world and +understood things, and who would talk rationally; it seemed to her +that this secret idyll, at once tender and sincere and rather +dashing, was worthy of pride. She knew that <a name='Page302' id= +"Page302"></a><span class='pagenum'>302</span>many women, +languishing in the greyness of an impeccable and frigid +domesticity, would be capable of envying her; she remembered that, +in reading the newspapers, she had sometimes timidly envied the +heroines of the matrimonial court who had bought romance at the +price of esteem and of peace. Then suddenly the whole matter +slipped into unreality, and she could not credit it. Was it +possible that she, a respectable matron, a known figure, the mother +of adult daughters, had fallen in love with a man not her husband, +had had a secret interview with her lover, and was anticipating, +not a retreat, but an advance? And she thought, as every honest +woman has thought in like case: 'This may happen to others; one +hears of it, one reads about it; but surely it cannot have happened +to <i>me</i>!' And when she had admitted that it had in fact +happened to her, and had perceived with a kind of shock that the +heroines of the matrimonial court were real persons, everyday +creatures of flesh-and-blood, she thought, again like the rest: +'Ah! But my affair is different from all the others. There is +something in it, something indefinable and precious, which makes it +different.'</p> +<p>She said: 'Can one help falling in love? Can one be blamed for +that?'</p> +<p><a name='Page303' id="Page303"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>303</span>For John she had little compassion, and the gay +and feverish existence of New York spread out invitingly before her +in a vision full of piquant contrasts with the death-in-life of the +Five Towns! But her beloved girls! They were an insuperable +barrier. She could not leave them; she could not forfeit the right +to look them in the eyes without embarrassment ... And then the +next moment—somehow, she did not know how—the +difficulty of the girls was arranged. And she had departed. She had +left the Five Towns for ever. And she was in the train, in the +hotel, on the steamer; she saw every detail of the escape. Oh! The +rapture! The tremors! The long sigh! The surrender! The intense +living! Surely no price could be too great....</p> +<p>No! Common sense, the acquirement of forty years, supervened, +and informed her wild heart, with all the cold arrogance of +sagacity, that these imaginings were vain. She felt that she must +write a brief and firm letter to Arthur and tell him to desist. She +saw with extraordinary clearness that this course was inevitable. +And lest her resolution might slacken, she turned instantly towards +home and began to hurry. The dog glanced up questioningly, and +hurried too.</p> +<p>'Why!' she reflected. 'People would say: "<a name='Page304' id= +"Page304"></a><span class='pagenum'>304</span>And her husband's +aunt scarcely cold in her grave!"' She laughed scornfully.</p> +<p>A carriage overtook her. It was Mrs. Dain's, coming from the +direction of Oldcastle.</p> +<p>'Good afternoon to you,' Mrs. Dain shouted, without stopping, +and then, when she caught sight of Bran: 'Bless us! The dog hasn't +brukken his leg after all!'</p> +<p>'Broken his leg!' Leonora repeated, astonished. The carriage was +now in front of her.</p> +<p>'Our Polly come in this morning and sat hersen down on a chair +and told us as your dog had brukken his leg. What tales one hears!' +Mrs. Dain had to twist her stout neck dangerously in order to +finish the sentence.</p> +<p>'I should think so!' was Leonora's private comment, her gaze +fixed on the scarlet of Mrs. Dain's nodding bonnet.</p> +<p>In the little room off the dining-room Leonora dipped pen in ink +to write to Arthur. She wrote the date, and she wrote the word +'Dear.' And she could not proceed. She knew that she could not +compose a letter which would be effective. She went to the window +and looked out, biting the pen. 'What am I to do?' she whispered, +in terror. 'What am I to do?' Then she saw Ethel running hard down +the drive to the front door.</p> +<p><a name='Page305' id="Page305"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>305</span>'Oh, mother!' The pale girl burst into the +room. 'Father's done something to himself. Fred's come up. They're +bringing him.'</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>John Stanway had called at the chemist's in the Market Place and +had given a circumstantial description of an accident to Bran. It +appeared that while Carpenter was washing the waggonette, Bran +being loose in the stable-yard, the groom had suddenly slipped the +lever of the carriage-jack and the off hind wheel had caught Bran's +hind leg and snapped it like a piece of wood. The chemist had +suggested prussic acid, and John had laughingly answered that +perhaps the chemist would be good enough to come up and show them +how to administer prussic acid to a dog of Bran's size in great +pain. John explained that the animal was now fast by the collar, +and he had demanded a large dose of morphia, together with a +hypodermic instrument. Having obtained these, and precise +instructions for their use, John had hurried away. It was not till +three hours had elapsed that a startling suspicion had disturbed +the chemist's easy mind. By that time, his preparations completed, +John had dropped unconscious from the arm-chair in his office at +the works, and Bursley was provided with one of those morbid +sensations which more than joy or <a name='Page306' id= +"Page306"></a><span class='pagenum'>306</span>triumph electrify the +stagnant pulses of a provincial town. Scores of persons followed +the cab which conveyed Stanway from the works to his house; and on +the route most of the inhabitants seemed to know in advance, by +some strange intuition, that the vehicle was coming, and at their +windows or at their gates (according to social status) they stood +ready to watch it pass. And even after John had entered his home +and had been carried upstairs, and the cab and the policeman had +gone, and the doctor had gone, and Fred Ryley and Mr. Mayer, the +works manager, had gone, a crowd still remained on the footpath, +staring at the gravelled drive and at the front door, silent, +patient, implacable.</p> +<p>The doctor had tried hot coffee, artificial respiration, and +other remedies, but without the least success, and he had +reluctantly departed, solemn for once, leaving four women to +understand that there was nothing to do save to wait for the final +sigh. The inactivity was dreadful for them. They could only look at +each other and think, and move to and fro aimlessly in the large +bedroom, and light the gas at dusk, and examine from moment to +moment those contracted pupils and that damp white brow, and listen +for the faint occasional breaths. They did not think the thoughts +which, could they have <a name='Page307' id= +"Page307"></a><span class='pagenum'>307</span>foreseen the +situation, they might have expected to think. It did not occur to +them to search for the causes of the disaster, nor to speculate +upon its results in regard to themselves: they surrendered to the +supreme fact. They were all incapable of logical and ordered +reflections, and in the hushed torpor of their secret hearts there +wandered, loosely, little disconnected ideas and sensations; as +that the Stanway family was at length getting its full share of +vicissitude and misfortune, that John was after all more important +and more truly dominant and more intimately a part of their lives +than they had imagined, that this affair was a thousand miles +removed from that of Uncle Meshach, that they were fully supplied +with mourning, and that suicide was mysteriously different from +their previous notion of it. The impressive thoughts, the obvious +thoughts—that if their creeds were sound, a soul was about to +enter into eternal torment, and that their lives would be violently +changed, and that they would be branded before the world as the +wife and the daughters of a defaulter and a self-murderer—did +not by any means absorb their minds in those first hours.</p> +<p>In the attitude of the girls towards Leonora there was a sort of +religious deference, as of priestesses to one soon to be +sacrificed. 'She <a name='Page308' id="Page308"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>308</span>is the central figure of the tragedy,' they had +the air of saying to each other. 'We feel the affliction, but it +cannot be demanded from us that we should feel it as she feels it. +We are only beginning to live; we have the future; but +she—she will have nothing. She will be the widow.' And the +significance of that terrible word—all that it implied of +social diminishment, of feeding on memory, and of mere waiting for +death—seemed to cling about Leonora as she stood restlessly +observant by the bed. And when Rose urged her to drink some tea, +she could not help drinking the tea humbly, from a sense of the +duty of doing what she was told. It was not Rose's fault that Rose +was superior, and that only twenty-four hours ago she had coldly +informed her mother that no act of her father's would surprise her. +Leonora resigned herself to humility.</p> +<p>'Mamma,' said Millicent, creeping into the room after an +absence, 'Uncle Meshach is here with Mr. Twemlow, and he says he's +coming in. Must he?'</p> +<p>'Of course, darling,' Leonora answered, without turning her +head.</p> +<p>Uncle Meshach appeared, leaning on his stick and on Arthur's +arm. He wore his overcoat and even his hat, and a white knitted +muffler encircled his shrivelled neck in loose folds. No <a name= +'Page309' id="Page309"></a><span class='pagenum'>309</span>one +spoke as the old and feeble man, with short uncertain steps, drew +Arthur towards the bed and gazed at his dying nephew. Meshach +looked long, and sighed. Suddenly he demanded of Leonora in a +whisper:</p> +<p>'Is he unconscious?'</p> +<p>Leonora nodded.</p> +<p>Drawing a little nearer to the bed, Meshach signed to Millicent +to approach, and gave her his stick. Then he unbuttoned his +overcoat, and his coat, and the flap-pocket of his trousers, and +after much searching found a box of matches. He shook out a match +clumsily, and struck it, and came still nearer to the bed. All +wondered apprehensively what the old man was going to do, but none +dared interfere or protest because he was so old, and so +precariously attached to life, and because he was the head of the +family. With his thin, veined, trembling hand, he passed the +lighted match close across John's eyeballs; not a muscle twitched. +Then he extinguished the match, put it in the box, returned the box +to his pocket, and buttoned the pocket and his coats.</p> +<p>'Ay!' he breathed. 'The lad's unconscious right enough. Let's be +going.'</p> +<p>Taking his stick from Milly, he clutched Arthur's arm again, and +very slowly left the room.</p> +<p><a name='Page310' id="Page310"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>310</span>After a moment's hesitation Leonora followed +and overtook them at the bottom of the stairs; it was the first +time she had forsaken the bedside. She was surprised to see Fred +Ryley in the hall, self-conscious but apparently determined to be +quite at home. She remembered that he said he should come up again +as soon as he had arranged matters at the works.</p> +<p>'Just take Mr. Myatt to the cab, will you?' said Twemlow quietly +to Fred. 'I'll follow.'</p> +<p>'Certainly,' Fred agreed, pulling his moustache nervously. 'Now, +Mr. Myatt, let me help you.'</p> +<p>'Ay!' said Meshach. 'Thou shalt help me if thou'n a mind.' As he +was feeling for the step with his stick he stopped and looked round +at Leonora. 'Lass!' he exclaimed, 'thou toldst me John was i' +smooth water.' Then he departed and they could hear his shuffling +steps on the gravel.</p> +<p>Twemlow glanced inquiringly at Leonora.</p> +<p>'Come in here,' she said briefly, pointing to the drawing-room. +They entered; it was dark.</p> +<p>'Your uncle made me drive up with him,' Arthur explained, as if +in apology.</p> +<p>She ignored the remark. 'You must go back to New York—at +once,' she told him, in a dry, curt voice.</p> +<p><a name='Page311' id="Page311"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>311</span>'Yes,' he assented, 'I suppose I'd better.'</p> +<p>'And don't write to me—until after I have written.'</p> +<p>'Oh, but——' he began.</p> +<p>She thought wildly: 'This man, with his reason and his judgment, +has not the slightest notion how I feel, not the slightest!'</p> +<p>'I must write,' he said in a persuasive tone.</p> +<p>'No!' she cried passionately and vehemently. 'You aren't to +write, and you aren't to see me. You must promise, absolutely.'</p> +<p>'For how long?' he asked.</p> +<p>She shook her head. 'I don't know, I can't tell.'</p> +<p>'But isn't that rather——'</p> +<p>'Will you promise?' she cried once more, quite loudly and almost +fiercely. And her accents were so full of entreaty, of command, and +of despair, that Arthur feared a nervous crisis for her.</p> +<p>'If you wish it,' he said, forced to yield.</p> +<p>And even then she could not be content.</p> +<p>'You give me your word to do nothing at all until you hear from +me?'</p> +<p>He paused, but he saw no alternative to submission. 'Yes.'</p> +<p>She thanked him, and without shaking hands or saying good-night +she went upstairs and <a name='Page312' id= +"Page312"></a><span class='pagenum'>312</span>resumed her place by +the bedside. She could hear Uncle Meshach's cab drive away.</p> +<p>'How came Mr. Twemlow to be here, mother?' Rose demanded +quietly.</p> +<p>'I don't know,' Leonora replied. 'He must have been at +uncle's.'</p> +<p>When the doctor had been again and gone, and various neighbours +and the 'Signal' reporter had called to inquire for news, and the +hour was growing late, Ethel said to her mother, 'Fred thinks he +had better stay all night.'</p> +<p>'But why?' Leonora asked.</p> +<p>'Well, mother,' said Milly, 'it's just as well to have a man in +the house.'</p> +<p>'He can rest on the Chesterfield in the drawing-room,' Ethel +added. 'Then if he's wanted——'</p> +<p>'Yes, yes,' Leonora agreed. 'And tell him he's very kind.'</p> +<p>At midnight, Fred was reading in the drawing-room, the man in +the house, the ultimate fount of security for seven women. Bessie, +having refused positively to go to bed, slept in a chair in the +kitchen, her heels touching the scrap of hearthrug which lay like a +little island on the red tiles in front of the range. Rose and +Millicent had retired to bed till three o'clock. Ethel, as the +eldest, stayed with her mother. When the hall-clock sounded one, +meaning half past twelve, <a name='Page313' id= +"Page313"></a><span class='pagenum'>313</span>Leonora glanced at +her daughter, who reclined on the sofa at the foot of the beds; the +girl had fallen into a doze.</p> +<p>John's condition was unchanged; the doctor had said that he +might possibly survive for many hours. He lay on his back, with +open eyes, and damp face and hair; his arms rested inert on the +sheet; and underneath that thin covering his chest rose and fell +from time to time, with a scarcely perceptible movement. It seemed +to Leonora that she could realise now what had happened and what +was to happen. In the nocturnal solemnity of the house filled with +sleeping and quiescent youth, she who was so mature and so satiate +had the sensation of being alone with her mate. Images of Arthur +Twemlow did not distract her. With the full strength of her mind +she had shut an iron door on the episode in the garden; it was as +though it had never existed. And she gazed at John with calm and +sad compassion. 'I would not sell my home,' she reflected, 'and +here is the consequence of refusal.' She wished she had +yielded—and she could perceive how unimportant, +comparatively, bricks-and-mortar might be—but she did not +blame herself for not having yielded. She merely regretted her +sensitive obstinacy as a misfortune for both of them. She had a +vision of <a name='Page314' id="Page314"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>314</span>humanity in a hurried procession, driven along +by some force unseen and ruthless, a procession in which the +grotesque and the pitiable were always occurring. She thought of +John standing over Meshach with the cold towel, and of Meshach +passing the flame across John's dying eyes, and these +juxtapositions appeared to her intolerably mournful in their +ridiculous grimness.</p> +<p>Impelled by a physical curiosity, she lifted the sheet and +scrutinised John's breast, so pallid against the dark red of his +neck, and bent down to catch the last tired efforts of the heart +within. And the idea of her extraordinary intimacy with this man, +of the incessant familiarity of more than twenty years, struck her +and overwhelmed her. She saw that nothing is so subtly influential +as constant uninterrupted familiarity, nothing so binding, and +perhaps nothing so sacred. It was a trifle that they had not loved. +They had lived. Ah! she knew him so profoundly that words could not +describe her knowledge. He kept his own secrets, hundreds of them; +and he had, in a way, astounded and shocked her by his suicide. +Yet, in another way, this miserable termination did not at all +surprise her; and his secrets were petty, factual things of no +essential import, which left her mystic omniscience of him +unimpaired.</p> +<p>She looked at his eyes, and thought pitifully: <a name='Page315' +id="Page315"></a><span class='pagenum'>315</span>'These eyes cannot +see that I uncover him.' Then she looked again at his breast, which +heaved in shallow respirations. And at the moment he exhaled a +sigh, so softly delicate and gentle that it might have been the +sigh of an infant sinking to sleep. She put her ear quickly to the +still breast, as to a sea-shell, and listened intently, and caught +no rumour of life there. Startled, she glanced at the jaw, which +had dropped, and then at Ethel dozing on the sofa.</p> +<p>The room was filled for her with the majestic sound of trumpets, +loud, sustained, and thrilling, but heard only by the soul; a noble +and triumphant fanfare announcing the awful advent of those forces +which are beyond the earthly sense. John's body lay suddenly +deserted and residual; that deceitful brain, and that lying tongue, +and that murderous hand had already begun to decay; and the +informing fragment of eternal and universal energy was gone to its +next manifestation and its next task, unconscious, irresponsible, +and unchanged. The ineptitude of human judgments had been once more +emphasised, and the great excellence of charity.</p> +<p>'Ethel,' said Leonora timorously, waking with a touch the young +and beautiful girl whose flushed cheek was pressed against the +cushion of the sofa. 'He's gone.... Call Fred.'</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page316' id="Page316"></a><span class='pagenum'>316</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI' id="CHAPTER_XI"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>THE REFUSAL</h3> +<p>Fifteen months after John's death, and the inquest on his body, +and the clandestine funeral, Leonora sat alone one evening in the +garden of the house at Hillport. She wore a black dress trimmed +with jet; a narrow band of white muslin clasped her neck, and from +her shoulders hung a long thin antique gold chain, once the +ornament of Aunt Hannah. Her head was uncovered, and the mild +breeze which stirred the new leaves of the poplars moved also the +stray locks of her hair. Her calm and mature beauty was unchanged; +it was a common remark in the town that during the past year she +had looked handsomer than ever, more content, radiant, and serene. +'And it's not surprising, either!' people added. The homestead +appeared to be as of old. Carpenter was feeding Prince in the +stable; Bran lay huge and benign at the feet of his mistress; the +borders of the lawn were vivid with bloom; and within the house +Bessie still ruled the kitchen. No <a name='Page317' id= +"Page317"></a><span class='pagenum'>317</span>luxury was abated, +and no custom altered. Time apparently had nothing to show there, +save an engagement ring on Bessie's finger. Many things, however, +had occurred; but they had seemed to occur so placidly, and the +days had been so even, that the term of her widowhood was to +Leonora more like three months than fifteen, and she often reminded +herself: 'It was last spring, not this, that he died.'</p> +<p>'The business is right enough!' Fred Ryley had said positively, +with an emphasis on the word 'business,' when he met Leonora and +Uncle Meshach in family council, during the first week of the +disaster; and Meshach had replied: 'Thou shalt prove it, lad!' The +next morning Mr. Mayer, the manager, and everybody on the bank, +learned that Fred, with old Myatt at his back, was in sole control +of the works at Shawport; creditors breathed with relief; and the +whole of Bursley remembered that it had always prophesied that +Fred's sterling qualities were bound to succeed. Meshach lent +several thousands of pounds to Fred at five per cent., and Fred was +to pay half the net profits of the business to Leonora as long as +she lived. The youth did not change his lodgings, nor his tailor, +nor his modest manners; but he became nevertheless suddenly +important, and none appreciated this fact better than Mr. Mayer, +whose <a name='Page318' id="Page318"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>318</span>sandy hair was getting grey, and who, having +six children but no rich great-uncle, could never hope to earn more +than three pounds a week. Fred was now an official member of the +Myatt clan, and, in the town, men of position, pompous individuals +who used to ignore him, greeted the sole principal of Twemlow & +Stanway's with a certain cordiality. After an interval his +engagement to Ethel was announced. Every evening he came up to +Hillport. The couple were ardently and openly in love; they +expected always to have the dining-room at their private disposal, +and they had it. Ethel simply adored him, and he was immeasurably +proud of her. Even in presence of the family they would sit hand in +hand, making no attempt to conceal their bliss. For the rest Fred's +attitude to Leonora was very affectionate and deferential; it +touched her, though she knew he worshipped her ignorantly. Rose and +Millicent wondered 'what Ethel could see in him'; he was neither +amusing nor smart nor clever, nor even vivacious; he had little +acquaintance with games, music, novels, or the feminist movement; +he was indeed rather dull; but they liked him because he was +fundamentally and invariably 'nice.' At the close of the year of +Stanway's death, Fred had paid to Leonora four hundred and fifty +pounds as her share of the profits of the firm for nine <a name= +'Page319' id="Page319"></a><span class='pagenum'>319</span>months. +But long before that Leonora was rich. Uncle Meshach had died and +left her the Myatt fortune for life, with remainder to the three +girls absolutely in equal shares. Fred was the executor and +trustee, and Fred's own share of the bounty was a total remission +of Meshach's loan to him. Thus it is that providence watches over +the wealthy, the luxurious, and the well-connected, and over the +lilies of the field who toil not.</p> +<p>Aroused from lethargy by the dramatic circumstances of her +father's death, Rose had resumed her reading with a vigour that +amounted almost to fury. In the following January she miraculously +passed the Matriculation examination of London University in the +first division, and on returning home she informed Leonora that she +had decided to go back to London and study medicine at a hospital +for women.</p> +<p>But of the three girls, it was Millicent who had made the most +history. Millicent was rapidly developing the natural gift, so +precious to the theatrical artist, of existing picturesquely in the +eye of the public. When the rehearsals of <i>Princess Ida</i> began +for the annual performance of the Operatic Society Milly +confidently expected to receive the principal part, despite the +fact that Lucy Turner, who had the prescriptive right to it, was +once more in a position to sing; and Milly <a name='Page320' id= +"Page320"></a><span class='pagenum'>320</span>was not disappointed. +As a heroine of comic opera she now accounted herself an extremely +serious person, and it soon became apparent that the conductor and +his prima donna would have to decide between them who was to +control the rehearsals while Milly was on the stage. One evening a +difference of opinion as to the <i>tempo</i> of a song and chorus +reached the condition of being acute. Exasperated by the pretty and +wayward child, the conductor laid down his stick and lighted a +cigarette, and those who knew him knew that the rehearsal would not +proceed until the duel had been fought to a finish. Milly thought +hard and said: 'Mr. Corfe says the Hanbridge people would jump at +me!' 'My good girl,' the conductor replied, 'Mr. Corfe's views on +the acrobatic propensities of the Hanbridge people are just a shade +off the point.' Every one laughed, except Milly. She possessed +little appreciation of wit, and she had scarcely understood the +remark; but she had an objection to the laughter, and a very strong +objection to being the conductor's good girl. The instant result +was that she vowed never again to sing or act under his baton, and +took the entire Society to witness; her place was filled by Lucy +Turner. The Hanbridge Society happened to be doing <i>Patience</i> +that year, and they justified <a name='Page321' id= +"Page321"></a><span class='pagenum'>321</span>Mr. Corfe's +prediction. Moreover, they hired the Hanbridge Theatre Royal for +six nights. On the first night Milly was enthusiastically applauded +by two thousand people, and in addition to half a column of praise +in the 'Signal,' she had the happiness of being mentioned in the +district news of the 'Manchester Guardian' and the 'Birmingham +Daily Post.' She deemed it magnificent for her; Leonora tried to +think so too. But on the fourth day the Hanbridge conductor was in +bed with influenza; and the Bursley conductor, upon a flattering +request, undertook his work for the remaining nights. Milly broke +her vow; her practical common sense was really wonderful. On the +last and most glorious night of the six, after responding to +several frenzied calls, Milly was inspired to seize the conductor +in the wings and drag him with her before the curtain. The effect +was tremendous. The conductor had won, but he very willingly +admitted that, in losing, the adorable chit had triumphed over him. +The episode was gossip for many days.</p> +<p>And this was by no means the end of the matter. The +agent-in-advance of one of the touring musical-comedy companies of +Lionel Belmont, the famous Anglo-American manager, was in Hanbridge +during that week, and after seeing Milly in the piece he <a name= +'Page322' id="Page322"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>322</span>telegraphed to Liverpool, where his company +was, and the next day the manager visited Hanbridge incognito. Then +Harry Burgess began to play a part in Millicent's history. Harry +had abandoned his stool at the Bank, expressing his intention to +undertake some large commercial enterprise; he had persuaded his +mother to find the capital. The leisurely search for a large +commercial enterprise precisely suited to Harry's tastes +necessitated frequent sojourns in London. Harry became a +man-about-town and a member of the renowned New Fantastics Club. +The New Fantastics were powerful supporters of the dramatic art, +and the roll of the club included numerous theatrical stars of +magnitudes varying from the first to the tenth. It was during one +of the club's official excursions—in pantechnicon +vans—to a suburban theatre where a good French actress was +performing, that Harry made the acquaintance of that important man, +Louis Lewis, Belmont's head representative in Europe. Louis Lewis, +over champagne, asked Harry if he knew a Millicent Stanway of +Bursley. The effect of the conversation was that Harry came home +and astounded Milly by telling her what Louis Lewis had authorised +him to say. There were conferences between Leonora and Milly and +Mr. Cecil Corfe, a journey to Manchester, hesitations, excitations, +thrills, and in <a name='Page323' id="Page323"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>323</span>the end an arrangement. Millicent was to go to +London to be finally appraised, and probably to sign a contract for +a sixteen-weeks provincial tour at three pounds a week.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>Leonora's prevailing mood was the serenity of high resolve and +of resignation. She had renounced the chance of ecstasy. She was +sad, but she was not unhappy. The melancholy which filled the +secret places of her soul was sweet and radiant, and she had proved +the ancient truth that he who gives up all, finds all. Still in +rich possession of beauty and health, she nevertheless looked +forward to nothing but old age—an old age of solitude and +sufferance. Hannah and Meshach were gone; John was gone; and she +alone seemed to be left of the elder generations. In four days +Ethel was to be married. Already for more than three months Rose +had been in London, and in a fortnight Leonora was to take +Millicent there. And when Ethel was married and perhaps a mother, +and Rose versed and absorbed in the art and craft of obstetrics, +and the name of Millicent familiar in the mouths of clubmen, what +was Leonora to do then? She could not control her daughters; she +could scarcely guide them. Ethel knew only one law, Fred's wish; +and Rose had too much intellect, and Millicent <a name='Page324' +id="Page324"></a><span class='pagenum'>324</span>too little heart, +to submit to her. Since John's death the house had been the abode +of peace and amiability, but it had also been Liberty Hall. If +sometimes Leonora regretted that she could not more dominantly +impress herself upon her children, she never doubted that on the +whole the new republic was preferable to the old tyranny. What then +had she to do? She had to watch over her girls, and especially over +Rose and Milly. And as she sat in the garden with Bran at her feet, +in the solitude which foreshadowed the more poignant solitude to +come, she said to herself with passionate maternity: 'I shall watch +over them. If anything occurs I shall always be ready.' And this +blissful and transforming thought, this vehement purpose, allayed +somewhat the misgivings which she had long had about Millicent, and +which her recent glimpses into the factitious and erratic world of +the theatre had only served to increase.</p> +<p>It was Milly's affair which had at length brought Leonora to the +point of communicating with Arthur Twemlow. In the first weeks of +widowhood, the most terrible of her life, she could not dream of +writing to him. Then the sacrifice had dimly shaped itself in her +mind, and while actually engaged in fighting against it she +hesitated to send any message whatever. And <a name='Page325' id= +"Page325"></a><span class='pagenum'>325</span>when she realised +that the sacrifice was inevitable for her, when she inwardly knew +that Arthur and the splendid rushing life of New York must be +renounced in obedience to the double instinct of maternity and of +repentance, she could not write. She felt timorous; she was unable +to frame the sentences. And she procrastinated, ruled by her +characteristic quality of supineness. Once she heard that he had +been over to London and gone back; she drew a deep breath as though +a peril had been escaped, and procrastinated further. Then came the +overtures from Lionel Belmont, or at least from his agents, to +Milly. Belmont was a New Yorker, and the notion suddenly struck her +of writing to Arthur for information about Belmont. It was a +capricious notion, but it provided an extrinsic excuse for a letter +which might be followed by another of more definite import. In the +end she was obliged to yield to it. She wrote, as she had performed +every act of her relationship with Arthur, unwillingly, in spite of +her reason, governed by a strange and arbitrary impulse. No sooner +was the letter in the pillar-box than she began to wonder what +Arthur would say in his response, and how she should answer that +response. She grew impatient and restless, and called at the chief +Post Office in Bursley for information about the American mails. On +this <a name='Page326' id="Page326"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>326</span>evening, as Leonora sat in the garden, Milly +was reciting at a concert at Knype, and Ethel and Fred had +accompanied her. Leonora, resisting some pressure, had declined to +go with them. Assuming that Arthur wrote on the day he received her +missive, his reply, she had ascertained, ought to be delivered in +Hillport the next morning, but there was just a chance that it +might be delivered that night. Hence she had stayed at home, +expectant, and—with all her serenity—a little nervous +and excited.</p> +<p>Carpenter emerged from the region of the stable and began to +water some flower-beds in the vicinity of her seat.</p> +<p>'Terrible dry month we've had, ma'am,' he murmured in his quiet +pastoral voice, waving the can to and fro.</p> +<p>She agreed perfunctorily. Her mind was divided between suspense +concerning the postman, contemplation of the placid vista of the +remainder of her career, and pleasure in the languorous charm of +the May evening.</p> +<p>Bran moved his head, and rising ponderously walked round the +seat towards the house. Then Carpenter, following the dog with his +eyes, smiled and touched his cap. Leonora turned sharply. Arthur +Twemlow himself stood on the <a name='Page327' id= +"Page327"></a><span class='pagenum'>327</span>step of the +drawing-room window, and Bessie's white apron was just disappearing +within.</p> +<p>In the first glance Leonora noticed that Arthur was considerably +thinner. She was overcome by a violent emotion that contained both +fear and joy. And as he approached her, agitated and unsmiling, the +joy said: 'How heavenly it is to see him again!' But the fear +asked: 'Why is he so worn? What have you been doing to him all +these months, Leonora?' She met him in the middle of the lawn, and +they shook hands timidly, clumsily, embarrassed. Carpenter, with +that inborn delicacy of tact which is the mark of a simple soul, +walked away out of sight, and Bran, receiving no attention, +followed him.</p> +<p>'Were you surprised to see me?' Arthur lamely questioned.</p> +<p>In their hearts a thousand sensations struggled, some for +expression, others for concealment; and speech, pathetically +unequal to the swift crisis, was disconcerted by it almost to the +verge of impotence.</p> +<p>'Yes,' she said. 'Very.'</p> +<p>'You ought not to have been,' he replied.</p> +<p>His tone alarmed her. 'Why?' she said. 'When did you get my +letter?'</p> +<p>'Just after one o'clock to-day.'</p> +<p><a name='Page328' id="Page328"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>328</span>'To-day?'</p> +<p>'I was in London. It was sent on to me from New York.'</p> +<p>She was relieved. When she saw him first at the window, she had +a lightning vision of him tearing open her letter in New York, +jumping instantly into a cab, and boarding the English steamer. +This had frightened her. It was, if not exactly reassuring, at any +rate less terrifying, to learn that he had flown to her only from +London.</p> +<p>'Well,' he exclaimed, 'how's everybody? And where are the +girls?'</p> +<p>She gave the news, and then they walked together to the seat and +sat down, in silence.</p> +<p>'You don't look too well,' she ventured. 'You've been working +too hard.'</p> +<p>He passed his hand across his forehead and moved on the seat so +as to meet her eyes directly.</p> +<p>'Quite the reverse,' he said. 'I haven't been working half hard +enough.'</p> +<p>'Not half hard enough?' she repeated mechanically.</p> +<p>As his eyes caught hers and held them she was conscious of an +exquisite but mortal tremor; her spine seemed to give way. The old +desire for youth and love, for that brilliant and tender existence +in which were united virtue and the <a name='Page329' id= +"Page329"></a><span class='pagenum'>329</span>flavour of sin, +dalliance and high endeavour, eternal appetite and eternal +satisfaction, rushed wondrously over her. The life which she had +mapped out for herself suddenly appeared miserable, inadequate, +even contemptible. Was she, with her rich blood, her perfect +health, her proud carriage, her indestructible beauty, and her +passionate soul, to wither solitary in the cold shadow? She felt +intensely, as every human heart feels sometimes, that the +satisfactions of duty were chimerical, and that the only authentic +bliss was to be found in a wild and utter abandonment to instinct. +No matter what the cost of rapture, in self-respect or in remorse, +it was worth the cost. Why did not mankind rise up and put an end +to this endless crucifixion of instinct which saddened the whole +earth, and say gloriously, 'Let us live'? And in a moment dalliance +without endeavour, and the flavour of sin without virtue, were +beautiful ideals for her. She could have put her arms round +Arthur's neck and drawn him to her, and blotted out all the past +and sullied all the future with one kiss. She wondered what +recondite force dissuaded her from doing so. 'I have but to lift my +arms and smile,' she thought.</p> +<p>'You've been very cruel,' said Arthur. 'I wouldn't have believed +you could have been so <a name='Page330' id= +"Page330"></a><span class='pagenum'>330</span>cruel. I guess you +didn't know how cruel you were. Why didn't you write before?'</p> +<p>'I couldn't,' she answered submissively. 'Didn't you +understand?' The question was not quite ingenuous, but she meant it +well.</p> +<p>'I understood at first,' he said. 'I knew you would want to +wait. I knew how upset you'd be—I—I think I knew all +you'd feel.... But it will soon be eighteen months ago.' His voice +was full of emotion. Then he smiled, gravely and charmingly.' +However, it's finished now, and I'm here.'</p> +<p>His indictment was very kind, very mild; but she could see how +he had suffered, and that his wrath against her had been none the +less genuine because it was the wrath of love. She grew more and +more humble before his gaze so adoring and so reproachful. She knew +that she had been selfish, and that she had ransomed her conscience +as much at his expense as at her own. She perceived the vital +inferiority of women to men—that quality of callousness which +allows them to commit all cruelties in the name of self-sacrifice, +and that lack of imagination by which they are blinded to the +wounds they deal. Women have brief moods in which they judge +themselves as men judge them, in which they escape from their sex +and know the truth. Such a mood came then <a name='Page331' id= +"Page331"></a><span class='pagenum'>331</span>to Leonora. And she +wished ardently to compensate Arthur for the martyrdom which she +had inflicted on him. They were close to one another. The +atmosphere between them was electric. And the darkness of a calm +and delicious night was falling. Could she not obey her instinct, +and in one bright word, one word laden with the invitation and +acquiescence of femininity, atone for her sin against him? Could +she not shatter the images of Rose and Milly, who loved her after +their hard fashion, but who would never thank her for her watchful +affection—would even resent it? Vain hope!</p> +<p>'Oh!' she exclaimed grievously, trying uselessly to keep the +dream of joyous indulgence from fading away. 'I must tell +you—I cannot leave them!'</p> +<p>'Leave whom?'</p> +<p>'The girls—Rose and Milly. I daren't. You don't know what +I went through after John's death—and I can't desert them. I +should have told you in my next letter.'</p> +<p>Her tones moved not only him but herself. He was obliged at once +to receive what she said with the utmost seriousness, as something +fully weighed and considered.</p> +<p>'Do you mean,' he demanded, 'that you won't marry me and come to +New York?'</p> +<p><a name='Page332' id="Page332"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>332</span>'I can't, I can't,' she replied.</p> +<p>He got up and walked along the garden towards the meadow, so far +that in the twilight her eyes could scarcely distinguish his figure +against the bushes. Then he returned.</p> +<p>'Just let me hear all about the girls.' He stood in front of +her.</p> +<p>'You see,' she said entreatingly, when she had hurried through +her recital, 'I couldn't leave them, could I?'</p> +<p>But instead of answering, he questioned her further about +Milly's projects, and made suggestions, and they seemed to have +been discussing the complex subject for an hour before she found a +chance to reassert, plaintively: 'I couldn't leave them.'</p> +<p>'You're entirely wrong,' he said firmly and authoritatively. +'You've just got an idea fixed in your head, and it's all wrong, +all wrong.'</p> +<p>'It isn't as if they were going to be married,' she obstinately +pursued the sequence of her argument. 'Ethel now——'</p> +<p>'Married!' he cried, roused. 'Are we to wait patiently, you and +I, until Rose and Milly choose to get married?' He was bitterly +scornful. 'Is that our rôle? I fancy I know something about +Rose and Milly, and allow me to tell you they never will get +married, neither of them. <a name='Page333' id= +"Page333"></a><span class='pagenum'>333</span>They aren't the +marrying sort. Not but what that's beside the point!... Yes,' he +continued, 'and if there ever were two girls in this world able to +look after themselves without parental assistance Rose and Milly +are those two.'</p> +<p>'You don't understand women; you don't know, you don't +understand,' she murmured. She was shocked and hurt by this candid +and hostile expression of opinion concerning Rose and Milly, whom +hitherto he had always appeared to like.</p> +<p>'No,' he retorted with solemn resentment. 'And no other man +either!... Before, when they needed your protection perhaps, when +your husband was alive, you would have left Rose and Milly then, +wouldn't you?... Wouldn't you?'</p> +<p>'Oh!' the exclamation escaped her unawares. She burst into a +sob. She had not meant to cry, but she was crying.</p> +<p>He sat down close to her, and put his hand on her shoulder, and +leaned over her. 'My dearest girl,' he whispered in a new voice of +infinite softness, 'you've forgotten that you have a duty to +yourself, and to me, as well as to Rose and Milly. Our lives want +looking after, too. We're human creatures, you know, you and I. +This row that we're having now has occurred thousands of times +before, but this time it's going to be settled with common sense, +isn't it?' <a name='Page334' id="Page334"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>334</span>And he kissed her with a kiss as soft as his +voice.</p> +<p>She sighed. Still perplexed and unconvinced, she was +nevertheless in those minutes acutely happy. The mysterious and +profound affinity of the flesh had made a truce between the warring +principles of the male and of the female; a truce only. To the left +of the house, over the Marsh, the last silver relics of day hung in +the distant sky. She looked at the dying light, so provocative of +melancholy in its reluctance to depart, and at the +timidly-appearing stars and the sombre trees, and her thought was: +'World, how beautiful and sad you are!'</p> +<p>Bran emerged forlorn from the gloom, and rested his great chin +confidingly on her knees.</p> +<p>'Bran!' she condoled with him through her tears, stroking the +dog's head tenderly, 'Ah! Bran!'</p> +<p>Arthur stood up, resolute, victorious, but prudent and +magnanimous too. He put one foot on the seat beside her, and leaned +forward on the raised knee, tapping his stick. 'I've hired a flat +over there,' he said low in her ear, 'such as can't be gotten +outside of New York. And in my thoughts I've made a space for you +in New York, where it's life and no mistake, and where I'm known, +and where my interests are. And if <a name='Page335' id= +"Page335"></a><span class='pagenum'>335</span>you didn't come I +don't know what I should do. I tell you fair I don't know what I +should do. And wouldn't your life be spoilt? Wouldn't it? But it +isn't the flat I've got, and it isn't the space I've sort of +cleared, and it isn't the ruin and smash for you and me—it +isn't so much these things that make me feel wicked when I think of +the mere possibility of you refusing to come, as the fundamental +injustice of the thing to both of us. My dear girl, no one ever +understood you as I do. I can see it all as well as if I'd been +here all the time. You took fright after—after his death. +Women are always more frightened after the danger's over than at +the time, especially when they're brave. And you thought, "I must +do something very good because it was on the cards I might have +been very wicked." And so it's Rose and Milly that mustn't be left +... I'm not much of an intellect, outside crocks, you know, but +there's one thing I can do, I <i>can</i> see clear?... Can't I see +clear?'</p> +<p>Their hands met in the dog's fur. She was still crying, but she +smiled up at him admiringly and appreciatively,</p> +<p>'If Rose and Milly want a change any time,' he continued, 'let +'em come over. And we can come to Europe just as often as you feel +that way ... Eh?'</p> +<p><a name='Page336' id="Page336"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>336</span>'Why,' she meditated, 'cannot this last for +ever?' She felt so feminine and illogical, and the masculine, +masterful rationality of his appeal touched her so intimately, that +she had discovered in the woe and the indecision of her situation a +kind of happiness. And she wished to keep what she had got. At +length a certain courage and resolution visited her, and summoning +all her sweetness she said to him: 'Don't press me, please, please! +In a fortnight I shall be in London with Milly.... Will you wait a +fortnight? Will you wait that long? I know that what you say +is—You will wait that long, won't you? You'll be in London +then to meet us?'</p> +<p>'God!' he exclaimed, deeply moved by the fainting, beseeching +poignancy of her voice, 'I will wait forty fortnights. And I guess +I shall be in London.'</p> +<p>She sank back on the reprieve as on a pillow.</p> +<p>'Of course I'll wait,' he repeated lightly, and his tone said: +'I understand. Life isn't all logic, and allowances must be made. +Women are women—that's what makes them so adorable—and +I'm not in a hurry.'</p> +<p>They did not speak further.</p> +<p>A moving patch of white on the path indicated Bessie.</p> +<p>'If you please, ma'am, shall I set supper for <a name='Page337' +id="Page337"></a><span class='pagenum'>337</span>five?' she asked +vivaciously in the summer darkness.</p> +<p>There was a silence.</p> +<p>'I'm not staying, Bessie,' said Twemlow.</p> +<p>'Thank you, sir. Come along, Bran, come kennel.'</p> +<p>The great beast slouched off, and left them together.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>'Guess who's been!' Leonora demanded of her girls and Fred, with +feverish gaiety, when they returned from the concert. The +dining-room was very cheerful, and brightly lit; outside lay the +dark garden and Bran reflective in his kennel. No one could guess +Arthur, and so Leonora had to tell. They were surprised; and they +were interested, but not for long. Millicent was preoccupied with +her successful performance at the concert; and Ethel and Fred had +had a brilliant idea. This couple were to commence married life +modestly in Uncle Meshach's house; but the place was being repaired +and redecorated, and there seemed to be an annoying probability +that it would not be finished for immediate occupation after the +short honeymoon—Fred could only spare 'two week-ends' from +the works. Why should they not return on the very day when Leonora +and Milly were to go to London <a name='Page338' id= +"Page338"></a><span class='pagenum'>338</span>and keep house at +Hillport during Leonora's absence? Such was the brilliant idea, one +of those domestic ideas whose manifold excellences call for +interminable explanation and discussion. The name of Arthur Twemlow +was not again mentioned.</p> +<hr class='long' /> +<a name='Page339' id="Page339"></a><span class='pagenum'>339</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII' id="CHAPTER_XII"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>IN LONDON</h3> +<p>The last day of the dramatic portion of Leonora's life was that +on which she went to London with Milly. They were up early, in +order to catch the morning express, and, before leaving, Leonora +arranged with the excited Bessie all details for the reception of +Ethel and Fred, who were to arrive in the afternoon from their +honeymoon. 'I will drive,' she said to Carpenter when the cart was +brought round, and Carpenter had to sit behind among the trunks. +Bessie in her morning print and her engagement ring stood at the +front door, and sped them beneficently away while clinging hard to +Bran.</p> +<p>As the train rushed smoothly across the vast and rich plain of +Middle England, Leonora's thoughts dwelt on the house at Hillport, +on her skilled and sympathetic servants, on Prince and Bran, and on +the calm and the orderliness and the high decency of everything. +And she pictured the homecoming of Ethel and Fred <a name='Page340' +id="Page340"></a><span class='pagenum'>340</span>from +Wales—Fred stiff and nervous, and Ethel flushed, beautiful, +and utterly bewitching in the self-consciousness of the bride. 'May +I call her Mrs. Fred, ma'am?' Bessie had asked, recoiling from the +formality of 'Mrs. Ryley,' and aware that 'Miss Ethel' was no +longer possible. Leonora saw them in the dining-room consuming the +tea which Bessie had determined should be the final word of teas; +and she saw Bessie, in that perfect black of hers and that +miraculous muslin, waiting at table with a superlative and cold +primness that covered a desire to take Ethel in her arms and kiss +her. And she saw the pair afterwards, dallying on the lawn with +Bran at dusk, simple, unambitious, unassuming, content; and, still +later, Fred meticulously locking up the great house, so much too +large and complicated for one timid couple, and Ethel standing at +the top of the stairs as he extinguished the hall-gas. These +visions of them made her feel sad—sad because Ethel could +never again be that which she had been, and because she was so +young, inexperienced, confiding, and beautiful, and would gradually +grow old and lose the ineffable grace of her years and situation; +and because they were both so innocent of the meaning of life. +Leonora yearned for some magic to stay the destructive hand of time +and keep them ever <a name='Page341' id="Page341"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>341</span>thus, young, naïve, trustful, and +unspoilt. And knowing that this could not be, she wanted intensely +to shield, and teach, and advise them. She whispered, thinking of +Ethel: 'Ah! I must always be near, within reach, within call, lest +she should need me.'</p> +<p>'Mother, shall you go with me to see Mr. Louis Lewis to-morrow?' +Milly demanded suddenly when the train halted at Rugby.</p> +<p>'Yes, of course, dear. Don't you wish me to?'</p> +<p>'Oh! I don't mind,' said Milly grandly.</p> +<p>Two well-dressed, middle-aged men entered the compartment, +which, till then, Leonora and Milly had had to themselves; and +while duly admiring Leonora, they could not refrain from looking +continually at Millicent; they talked to one another gravely, and +they made a pretence of reading newspapers, but their eyes always +returned furtively to Milly's corner. The girl was not by any means +confused by the involuntary homage, which merely heightened her +restless vitality. She chattered to her mother; she was pert; she +looked out of the window; she tapped the floor with her brown +shoes. In the unconscious process of displaying her individuality +for admiration, she was never still. The fair, pretty face under +the straw hat responded to each appreciative <a name='Page342' id= +"Page342"></a><span class='pagenum'>342</span>glance, and beneath +her fine blue coat and skirt the muscles of the immature body and +limbs played perpetually in graceful and free movement. She was +adorable; she knew it, Leonora knew it, the two middle-aged men +knew it. Nothing—no pertness, no audacity, no silliness, no +affectation—could impair the extraordinary charm. Leonora was +exceedingly proud of her daughter. And yet she reflected +impartially that Millicent was a little fool. She trembled for +Millicent; she feared to let her out of sight; the idea of +Millicent loose in the world, with no guide but her own rashness +and no protection but her vanity, made Leonora feel sick. +Nevertheless, Millicent would soon be loose in the world, and at +the best Leonora could only stand in the background, ready for +emergency.</p> +<p>At Euston they were not surprised to see Harry. The young man +was more dandiacal and correct than ever, and he could cut a figure +on the platform; but Leonora observed the pallor of his thin cheeks +and the watery redness of his eyes. He had come to meet them, and +he insisted on escorting them to their hotel in South +Kensington.</p> +<p>'Look here,' he said in the cab, 'I've one dying request to make +before the luggage drops through the roof. I want you both to come +and <a name='Page343' id="Page343"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>343</span>dine with me at the Majestic to-night, and then +we'll go to the Regency. Lewis has given me a box. By the way, I +told him he might rely on me to take you up to see him +to-morrow.'</p> +<p>'Shall we, mother?' Milly asked carelessly; but it was obvious +that she wished to dine at the Majestic.</p> +<p>'I don't know,' said Leonora. 'There's Rose. We're going to +fetch Rose from the hospital this afternoon, Harry, and she will +spend the evening with us.'</p> +<p>'Well, Rose must come too, of course,' Harry replied quickly, +after a slight hesitation. 'It will do her good.'</p> +<p>'We will see,' said Leonora. She had known Harry from his +infancy, and when she encountered him in these latter days she was +always subject to the illusion that he could not really be a man, +but was rather playing at manhood. Moreover, she had warned Arthur +Twemlow of their arrival and expected to find a letter from him at +the hotel, and she could make no arrangements until she had seen +the letter.</p> +<p>They drove into the courtyard of the select and austere +establishment where John Stanway had brought his wife on her +wedding journey. Leonora found that it had scarcely changed; the +dark entrance lounge presented the same appear<a name='Page344' id= +"Page344"></a><span class='pagenum'>344</span>ance now as it had +done more than twenty years ago; it had the same air of receiving +visitors with condescension; the whole street was the same. She +grew thoughtful; and Harry's witticisms, as he ceremoniously +superintended their induction into the place, served only to deepen +the shadow in her heart.</p> +<p>'Any letters for me?' she asked the hall porter, loitering +behind while Millicent and Harry went into the <i>salle à +manger</i>.</p> +<p>'What name, madam? No, madam.'</p> +<p>But during luncheon, to which Harry stayed, a flunkey approached +bearing a telegram on silver. 'In a moment,' she thought, 'I shall +know when we are to meet.' And she trembled with apprehension. The +flunkey, however, gave the telegram to Millicent, who accepted it +as though she had been accepting telegrams at the hands of flunkeys +all her life.</p> +<p>'<i>Miss</i> Stanway,' she smiled superiorly with her chin +forward, perceiving the look on Leonora's face. She tore the +envelope. 'Lewis says I am to go to-day at four, instead of +to-morrow. Hooray! the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep, +though the harbour bar be mo—oaning. Ma, that's the very time +you have to meet Rose at the hospital. Harry, you shall take +me.'</p> +<p><a name='Page345' id="Page345"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>345</span>Leonora would have preferred that Harry and +Millicent should not go alone together to see Mr. Louis Lewis. But +she could not bring herself to break the appointment with Rose, who +was extremely sensitive; nor could she well inform Harry, at this +stage of his close intimacy with the family, that she no longer +cared to entrust Milly to his charge.</p> +<p>She left the hotel before the other two, because she had further +to drive. The hansom had scarcely got into the street when she +instructed the driver to return.</p> +<p>'Of course you will settle nothing definitely with Mr. Lewis,' +she said to Milly. 'Tell him I wish to see him first.'</p> +<p>'Oh, mother!' the girl cried, pouting.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>At the New Female and Maternity Hospital in Lamb's Conduit +Street Leonora was shown to a bench in the central hall and +requested to sit down. The clock over the first landing of the +double staircase indicated three minutes to four. During the drive +she had begun by expecting to meet Arthur on his way to the hotel, +and even in Piccadilly, where delays of traffic had forced upon her +attention the glittering opulence and afternoon splendour of the +London season, she had still thought of him and of the interview +<a name='Page346' id="Page346"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>346</span>which was to pass between them. But here she +was obsessed by her immediate environment. The approach to the +hospital, through sombre squalid streets, past narrow courts in +which innumerable children tumbled and yelled, disturbed and +desolated her. It appeared that she had entered the secret +breeding-quarter of the immense city, the obscene district where +misery teemed and generated, and where the revolting fecundity of +nature was proved amid surroundings of horror and despair. And the +hospital itself was the very centre, the innermost temple of all +this ceaseless parturition. In a corner of the hall, near a door, +waited a small crowd of embossed women, young and middle-aged, sad, +weary, unkempt, lightly dressed in shabby shapeless clothes, and +sweltering in the summer heat; a few had babies in their arms. In +the doorway two neatly attired youngish women, either doctors or +students, held an animated and interminable conversation, staring +absent-mindedly at the attendant crowd. A pale nurse came hurrying +from the back of the hall and vanished through the doorway, +squeezing herself between the doctors or students, who soon +afterwards followed her, still talking; and then one by one the +embossed women began to vanish through the doorway also. The clock +gently struck four, and <a name='Page347' id= +"Page347"></a><span class='pagenum'>347</span>Leonora, sighing, +watched the hand creep to five minutes and to ten beyond the hour. +She gazed up the well of the staircases, and in imagination saw +ward after ward, floor above floor of beds, on which lay repulsive +and piteous creatures in fear, in pain, in exhaustion. And she +thought with dismay how many more poor immortal souls went out of +that building than ever went into it. 'Rose is somewhere up there,' +she reflected. At a quarter past four a stout white-haired lady +briskly descended the stairs, and, after being accosted twice by +officials, spoke to Leonora.</p> +<p>'You are Mrs. Stanway? My name is Smithson. I dare say your +daughter has mentioned it in her letters.' The famous dean of the +hospital smiled, and paused while Leonora responded. 'Just at the +moment,' Miss Smithson continued, 'dear Rosalys is engaged, but I +hope she will be down directly. We are very, very busy. Are you +making a long stay in London, Mrs. Stanway? The season is now in +full swing, is it not?'</p> +<p>Leonora could find little to say to this experienced spinster, +whom she unwillingly admired but with whom she was not in accord. +Miss Smithson uttered amiable banalities with an evident intention +to do nothing more; her demeanour was preoccupied, and she made no +<a name='Page348' id="Page348"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>348</span>further reference to Rose. Soon a nurse +respectfully called her; she hastened away full of apologies, +leaving Leonora to meditate upon her own shortcomings as a serious +person, and upon the futility of her existence of forty-one +years.</p> +<p>Another quarter of an hour elapsed, and then Rose ran +impetuously down the stone steps.</p> +<p>'Mother, I'm so glad to see you! Where's Milly?' she exclaimed +eagerly, and they kissed twice.</p> +<p>As she answered the greeting Leonora noticed the lines of +fatigue in Rose's face, the brilliancy of her eyes, the emaciation +of the body beneath her grey alpaca dress, and that air of false +serenity masking hysteric excitement which she seemed to have +noticed too in all the other officials—the doctors or +students, the nurses, and even the dean.</p> +<p>'Are you ready now, dear?' she asked.</p> +<p>'Oh, I can't possibly come to-day, mother. Didn't Miss Smithson +tell you? I'm awfully sorry I can't. But there's a very important +case on. I can only stay a minute.'</p> +<p>'But, my child, we have arranged to take you to the theatre,' +Leonora was on the point of expostulating. She checked herself, and +placidly replied: 'I'm sorry, too. When shall you be free?'</p> +<p><a name='Page349' id="Page349"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>349</span>'Might be able to get off to-morrow. I'll slip +out in the morning and send you a telegram.'</p> +<p>'I should like you to try and be free to-morrow, my dear. You +seem as if you needed a rest. Do you take any exercise?'</p> +<p>'As much as I can.'</p> +<p>'But you know, Rose——'</p> +<p>'That's all right, mater,' Rose interrupted confidently, patting +her mother's arm. 'We can look after ourselves here, don't you +worry. Have you seen Mr. Twemlow yet?'</p> +<p>'Not yet. Why?'</p> +<p>'Nothing. But he called to see me yesterday. We're great +friends. I must run back now.'</p> +<p>Leonora departed with the girl's hasty kiss on her lips, +realising that she had fallen to the level of a mere episodic +interest in Rose's life. The impassioned student of obstetrics had +disappeared up the staircase before Leonora could reach the +double-doors of the entrance. The mother was dashed, stricken, a +little humiliated. But as she arranged the folds of her beautiful +dress in the hansom which was carrying her away from Lamb's Conduit +Street towards South Kensington, she said to herself firmly, 'I am +not a ninny, after all, and I know that Rose will be ill soon. And +there are things in that hospital that I could manage better.'</p> +<p><a name='Page350' id="Page350"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>350</span>'Mr. Twemlow came to see you just after you +left,' said Harry when he restored Milly to her mother at half-past +five. 'I asked him to join us at dinner, but he said he couldn't. +However, he's coming to the theatre, to our box.'</p> +<p>'You must excuse us from dining with you to-night, Harry,' was +Leonora's reply. 'We'll meet you at the theatre.'</p> +<p>'Yes, Harry,' said Millicent coldly. 'We really can't come +to-day.'</p> +<p>'The hand of the Lord is heavy upon me,' Harry murmured. And he +repeated the phrase on leaving the hotel.</p> +<p>Neither he nor Millicent had shown much interest in Rose's +defection. The dandy seemed to be relieved, and Millicent said, +'How stupid of her!' Milly had returned from the visit to Mr. Louis +Lewis in a state of high self-satisfaction. Leonora was told that +Mr. Lewis was simply the most delightful and polite man that Milly +had ever met; he would be charmed to see Mrs. Stanway, and would +make an appointment. Meanwhile Milly gave her mother to understand +that the affair was practically settled. She knew the date when the +tour of <i>Princess Puck</i> started, and the various towns which +it would include; and Mr. Lewis had provided her with a <a name= +'Page351' id="Page351"></a><span class='pagenum'>351</span>box for +the next afternoon at the Queen's Theatre, where the piece had been +most successfully produced a month ago; the music she would receive +by post; and the first rehearsal of the No. I. Company would occur +within a week or so. Millicent walked in flowery paths. She saw +herself covered with jewels and compliments, flattered, adored, +worshipped, and leading always a life of superb luxury. And this +prophetic dream was not the conception of a credulous fancy, but +the product of the hard and calculating shrewdness which she +possessed. She was aware of the importance of Mr. Louis Lewis, who, +on behalf of Lionel Belmont, absolutely controlled three West End +theatres; and she was also aware of the effect which she had had +upon him. She knew that in her personality there was a mysterious +something which intoxicated, not all the men with whom she came in +contact, but most of them, and men of utterly different sorts. She +did not trouble to attempt any analysis of that quality; she +accepted it as a natural phenomenon; and she meant to use it +ruthlessly, for she was almost incapable of pity or gratitude. It +was, for instance, her intention to drop Harry; she had no further +use for him now. She was learning to forget her childish awe of +Leonora: a very little time, and she would implacably force her +mother <a name='Page352' id="Page352"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>352</span>to recognise that even the semblance of +parental control must cease.</p> +<p>'And I am to have my photograph taken, mamma!' she exclaimed +triumphantly. 'Mr. Lewis says that Antonios in Regent Street will +be only too glad to take it for nothing. He's going to send them a +line.'</p> +<p>Leonora was silent. Deep in her heart she made a gesture of +appeal to each of her daughters—to Ethel who was immersed in +love, to Rose who was absorbed by a vocation, and to this seductive +minx whose venal lips would only smile to gain an end—and +each seemed to throw her a glance indifferent or preoccupied, and +to say, 'Presently, presently. When I can spare a moment.' And she +thought bitterly how Rose had been content to receive her mother in +the public hall of the hospital.</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p>They were late in arriving at the theatre because the cab could +not get through Piccadilly, and Harry was impatiently expecting +them in the foyer. His brow smoothed at once when he caught sight +of them, and he admired their dresses, and escorted them up the +celebrated marble stairs with youthful pride.</p> +<p>'I thought no one was going to supervene,' he smiled. 'I was +afraid you'd all been murdered <a name='Page353' id= +"Page353"></a><span class='pagenum'>353</span>in patent +asphyxiating hansoms. I don't know what's happened to Twemlow. I +must leave word with the people here which box he's to come +to.'</p> +<p>'Perhaps he won't come,' thought Leonora. 'Perhaps I shall not +see him till to-morrow.'</p> +<p>Harry's box was exactly in the middle of the semi-circle of +boxes which surround the balcony of the Regency Theatre. They were +ushered into it with the precautions of silence, for the three +hundred and fifty-fifth performance of <i>The Dolmenico Doll</i>, +the unique musical comedy from New York, had already commenced. +Leonora and Milly sat in front, and Harry drew up a chair so that +he might whisper in their ears; he was very talkative. Leonora +could see nothing clearly at first. Then gradually the crowded +auditorium arranged itself in her mind. She perceived the +semi-circle of boxes, each exactly like their own, and each filled +with women quite as elegantly gowned as she and Millicent, and men +as dandiacal and correct as Harry; and in the balcony and in the +stalls were serried regular rows of elaborate coiffures and shining +bald heads; and all the seats seemed to be pervaded by the glitter +of gems, the wing-like beating of fans, and the restless curving of +arms. She had not visited London for many years, and this +multitudinous <a name='Page354' id="Page354"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>354</span>and wholesale opulence startled her. Under +other circumstances she would have enjoyed it intensely, and basked +in it as a flower in the sunshine; to-night, however, she could not +dismiss the image of Rose in the gaunt hospital in Lamb's Conduit +Street. She knew the comparison was crude; she assured herself that +there must always be rich and poor, idle and industrious, gay and +sorrowful, elegant and shabby, arrogant and meek; but her +discomfort none the less persisted, and she had the uneasy feeling +that the whole of civilisation was wrong, and that Rose and the +earnest ones were justified in their scorn of such as her. And +concurrently she dwelt upon Ethel and Fred at that hour, and +listened with anxiety for the opening of the box-door and the entry +of Arthur Twemlow.</p> +<p>She imagined that owing to their late arrival she must have +missed the one essential clue to the plot of <i>The Dolmenico +Doll</i>, and as the gorgeously decorated action was developed on +the dazzling stage she tried in vain to grasp its significance. The +fall of the curtain came as a surprise to her. The end of the first +act had left her with nothing but a confused notion of the interior +of a confectioner's shop, and young men therein getting tipsy and +stealing kisses, and marvellously pretty girls submitting to the +robbery with a nonchalance <a name='Page355' id= +"Page355"></a><span class='pagenum'>355</span>born of three hundred +and fifty four similar experiences; and old men grotesque in a +dissolute senility; and sudden bursts of orchestral music, and +simpering ballads, and comic refrains and crashing choruses; and +lights, <i>lingerie</i>, picture-hats and short skirts; and over +all, dominating all, the set, eternal, mechanical, bored smile of +the pretty girls.</p> +<p>'Awfully good, isn't it?' said Harry, when the generous applause +had ceased.</p> +<p>'It's simply lovely,' Milly agreed, fidgeting on her chair in +juvenile rapture.</p> +<p>'Yes,' Leonora admitted. And she indeed thought that parts of it +were amusing and agreeable.</p> +<p>'Of course,' Harry remarked hastily to Leonora, '<i>Princess +Puck</i> isn't at all like this. It's an idyll sort of thing, you +know. By the way, hadn't I better go out and offer a reward for the +recovery of Twemlow?'</p> +<p>He returned just as the curtain went up, bringing a faint odour +of whisky, but without Twemlow.</p> +<p>A few moments later, while the principal pretty girl was +warbling an invitation to her lover amid the diversions of +Narragansett Pier, the latch of the door clicked and Arthur +noiselessly entered the box. He nodded cheerfully, mur<a name= +'Page356' id="Page356"></a><span class='pagenum'>356</span>muring +'Sorry I'm so late,' and then shook hands with Leonora. She could +not find her voice. In the hazard of rearranging the seats, an +operation which Harry from diffidence conducted with a certain +clumsiness, Arthur was placed behind Milly while Leonora had Harry +by her side.</p> +<p>'You've missed all the first act, and everyone says it's the +best,' Milly remarked, leaning towards Arthur with an air of +intimacy. And Harry expressed agreement.</p> +<p>'But you must remember I saw it in New York two years ago,' +Leonora heard him whisper in reply.</p> +<p>She liked his avuncular, slightly quizzical attitude to them. He +reinforced the elder generation in the box, reducing by his mere +presence the two young and callow creatures to their proper +position in the scheme of things.</p> +<p>And now the question of her future relations with Arthur, which +hitherto she had in a manner shunned, at once became peremptory for +Leonora. She was conscious of a passionate tenderness for him; he +seemed to her to have qualities, indefinable and exquisite touches +of character, which she had never observed in any other human +being. But she was in control of her heart. She had chosen, and she +knew that she could abide by her choice. She was uplifted by +<a name='Page357' id="Page357"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>357</span>the force of one of those tremendous and +invincible resolutions which women alone, with their instinctive +bent towards martyrdom, are capable of making. And the resolution +was not the fruit of the day, the result of all that she had +recently seen and thought. It was a resolution independent of +particular circumstances, a simple admission of the naked fact that +she could not desert her daughters. If Ethel had been shrewd and +worldly, and Rose temperate in her altruism, and Milly modest and +sage, the resolution would not have been modified. She dared not +abandon her daughters: the blood in her veins, the stern traits +inherited from her irreproachable ancestors, forbade it. She might +be convinced in argument—and she vividly remembered +everything that Arthur had said—she might admit that she was +wrong, that her sacrifice would be futile, and that she was about +to be guilty of a terrible injustice to Arthur and to herself. No +matter! She would not leave the girls. And if in thus obstinately +remaining at their service she committed a sin, she could only ask +pardon for that sin. She could only beg Arthur to forgive her, and +assure him that he would forget, and submit to his reproaches in +silence and humility. Now and then she gazed at him, but his eyes +were always fixed on the stage, and the corners of his <a name= +'Page358' id="Page358"></a><span class='pagenum'>358</span>mouth +turned down into a slightly ironic smile. She wondered if he +expected to be able to persuade her, and whether an opportunity to +convince him and so end the crisis would occur that evening, or +whether she would be compelled to wait through another night.</p> +<p>At last the adventures of the Dolmenico Doll were concluded, the +naughty kisses regularised, the old men finally befooled, the glory +extinguished, the music hushed. The audience stood up and began to +chatter, and the women curved their long arms backward to receive +white cloaks from the men. Arthur led the way out with Milly, and +as the party slowly proceeded through the crush into the foyer, +Leonora could hear the impetuous and excited child delivering to +him her professional views on the acting and the singing.</p> +<p>'Well, Burgess,' Arthur said, in the portico, 'I guess we'll see +these ladies home, eh?' And he called to a commissionaire: 'Say, +two hansoms.'</p> +<p>In a minute Leonora and Arthur were driving together along the +scintillating nocturnal thoroughfare; he had put Harry and +Millicent into the other hansom like school children. And in the +sudden privacy of the vehicle Leonora thought: 'Now!' She looked up +at him <a name='Page359' id="Page359"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>359</span>furtively from beneath her eyelashes. He caught +the glance and shook his head sadly.</p> +<p>'Why do you shake your head?' she timidly began.</p> +<p>His kind shrewd eyes caressed her. 'You mustn't look at me so,' +he said.</p> +<p>'Why?'</p> +<p>'I can't stand it,' he replied. 'It's too much for me. You don't +know—you don't know. You think I'm calm enough, but I tell +you the top of my head has nearly come off to-day.'</p> +<p>'But I——'</p> +<p>'Listen here,' he ran on. 'Let me finish up. What I said a +fortnight ago was quite right. It was absolutely unanswerable. But +there was something about your letter that upset me. I can't tell +you what it was—only it made my heart beat. And then +yesterday I happened to go and worry out Rose at that awful +hospital. And then Milly to-night! I know how you feel. I've got it +to the eighth of an inch. And I've thought: "Suppose I do get her +to New York, and she isn't happy?" Well, it's right here: I've +settled to sell my business over there, and fix up in London. What +do I care for New York, anyway? I don't care for anything so long +as we can be happy. I've been a bachelor too long. And if I can be +alone with you in this <a name='Page360' id= +"Page360"></a><span class='pagenum'>360</span>London, lost in it, +just you and me! Oh, well! I want a woman to think about—one +woman all mine. I'm simply mad for it. And we can only live once. +We shan't be short of money. Now don't look at me any more like you +did. Say yes, and let's begin right away and be happy.'</p> +<p>'Do you really mean——?' She was obliged thus, in +weak unfinished phrases, to gain time in order to recover from the +shock.</p> +<p>'I'm going to cable to-morrow morning,' he said, joyously. 'Not +that there's so much hurry as all that, but I shall feel better +after I've cabled. I'm silly, and I want to be silly.... I wouldn't +live in New York for a million now. And don't you think we can keep +an eye on Rose and Millicent, between us?'</p> +<p>'Oh, Arthur!'</p> +<p>She breathed a long, deep sigh, shutting her eyes for an +instant; and then the beautiful creature, with all her elegance and +her appearance of impassive and fastidious calm, permitted herself +to move infinitesimally, but perceptibly, closer to him in the +hansom; and her spirit performed the supreme feminine act of +acquiescence and surrender. She thought passionately: 'He has +yielded to me—I will be his slave.'</p> +<p>'I shall call you Leo,' he murmured fondly. 'It occurred to me +last night.'</p> +<p><a name='Page361' id="Page361"></a><span class= +'pagenum'>361</span>She smiled, as if to say: 'How charmingly +boyish you are!'</p> +<p>'And I must tell you—but see here, we shall be at your +hotel too soon.' He pushed at the trap-door. 'Say, driver, go up +Park Lane and along Oxford Street a bit.'</p> +<p>Then he explained to her how he had refused Harry's invitation +to dinner, and had arrived late at the theatre, solely that he +might not have to talk to her until they could talk in +solitude.</p> +<p>As, later, the cab rolled swiftly southwards through the +mysterious dark avenues of Hyde Park, Leonora had the sensation of +being really alone with him in the very heart of that luxurious, +voluptuous, and decadent civilisation for which she had always +yearned, and in which she was now to participate. The feeling of +the beauty of the world, and of its catholicity and many-sidedness, +returned to her. She gave play to her instincts. And, revelling in +the self-confidence and the masterful ascendency which underlay +Arthur's usual reticent demeanour, she resumed with exquisite +relief her natural supineness. She began to depend on him. And she +foresaw how he would reason diplomatically with Rose, and watch +between Milly and Mr. Louis Lewis, and perhaps assist Fred Ryley, +and do in the best way everything that ought to be done; <a name= +'Page362' id="Page362"></a><span class='pagenum'>362</span>and how +she would reward him with the consolations of her grace and charm, +her feminine arts, and her sweet acquiescence.</p> +<p>'So you've come,' exclaimed Milly, rather desolate in the +drawing-room of the hotel.</p> +<p>'Yes, Miss Muffet,' said Arthur, 'we've come. Where is the +youth?'</p> +<p>'Harry? I made him go home.'</p> +<p>Leonora smiled indulgently at Millicent with her pretty pouting +face and her adorable artificiality, lounging on one of the sofas +in the vast garish chamber. And her thoughts flew to Ethel, and +existence in Bursley. The Myatt family had risen, flourished, and +declined. Some of its members were dead, in honour or in dishonour; +others were scattered now. Only Ethel and Fred remained; and these +two, in the house at Hillport (which Leonora meant to give them), +were beginning again the eternal effort, and renewing the simple +and austere traditions of the Five Towns, where luxury was suspect +and decadence unknown.</p> +<p class='figure'><img src='images/illustration001.png' width="30%" +alt='' title='' /></p> +<a name='Page363' id="Page363"></a><span class='pagenum'>363</span> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13723 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |