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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Derrick Vaughan--Novelist
+
+Author: Edna Lyall
+
+Posting Date: October 1, 2008 [EBook #1665]
+Release Date: March, 1999
+Last Updated: November 11, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DERRICK VAUGHAN--NOVELIST ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Les Bowler
+
+
+
+
+
+DERRICK VAUGHAN--NOVELIST
+
+By Edna Lyall
+
+
+     ‘It is only through deep sympathy that a man can become a
+     great artist.’--Lewes’s Life of Goethe.
+
+
+     ‘Sympathy is feeling related to an object, whilst sentiment
+     is the same feeling seeking itself alone.’--Arnold Toynbee.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter I.
+
+
+‘Nothing fills a child’s mind like a large old mansion; better if un- or
+partially occupied; peopled with the spirits of deceased members of the
+county and Justices of the Quorum. Would I were buried in the peopled
+solitude of one, with my feelings at seven years old!’--From Letters of
+Charles Lamb.
+
+
+To attempt a formal biography of Derrick Vaughan would be out of the
+question, even though he and I have been more or less thrown together
+since we were both in the nursery. But I have an odd sort of wish to
+note down roughly just a few of my recollections of him, and to show how
+his fortunes gradually developed, being perhaps stimulated to make the
+attempt by certain irritating remarks which one overhears now often
+enough at clubs or in drawing-rooms, or indeed wherever one goes.
+“Derrick Vaughan,” say these authorities of the world of small-talk,
+with that delightful air of omniscience which invariably characterises
+them, “why, he simply leapt into fame. He is one of the favourites of
+fortune. Like Byron, he woke one morning and found himself famous.”
+
+Now this sounds well enough, but it is a long way from the truth, and
+I--Sydney Wharncliffe, of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-law--desire,
+while the past few years are fresh in my mind, to write a true version
+of my friend’s career.
+
+Everyone knows his face. Has it not appeared in ‘Noted Men,’
+and--gradually deteriorating according to the price of the paper and
+the quality of the engraving--in many another illustrated journal? Yet
+somehow these works of art don’t satisfy me, and, as I write, I see
+before me something very different from the latest photograph by Messrs.
+Paul and Reynard.
+
+I see a large-featured, broad-browed English face, a trifle
+heavy-looking when in repose, yet a thorough, honest, manly face, with
+a complexion neither dark nor fair, with brown hair and moustache, and
+with light hazel eyes that look out on the world quietly enough. You
+might talk to him for long in an ordinary way and never suspect that he
+was a genius; but when you have him to yourself, when some consciousness
+of sympathy rouses him, he all at once becomes a different being. His
+quiet eyes kindle, his face becomes full of life--you wonder that you
+ever thought it heavy or commonplace. Then the world interrupts in some
+way, and, just as a hermit-crab draws down its shell with a comically
+rapid movement, so Derrick suddenly retires into himself.
+
+Thus much for his outer man.
+
+For the rest, there are of course the neat little accounts of his
+birthplace, his parentage, his education, etc., etc., published with the
+list of his works in due order, with the engravings in the illustrated
+papers. But these tell us little of the real life of the man.
+
+Carlyle, in one of his finest passages, says that ‘A true delineation of
+the smallest man and his scene of pilgrimage through life is capable of
+interesting the greatest men; that all men are to an unspeakable degree
+brothers, each man’s life a strange emblem of every man’s; and that
+human portraits faithfully drawn are of all pictures the welcomest on
+human walls.’ And though I don’t profess to give a portrait, but merely
+a sketch, I will endeavour to sketch faithfully, and possibly in the
+future my work may fall into the hands of some of those worthy people
+who imagine that my friend leapt into fame at a bound, or of those
+comfortable mortals who seem to think that a novel is turned out as
+easily as water from a tap.
+
+There is, however, one thing I can never do:--I am quite unable to
+put into words my friend’s intensely strong feeling with regard to the
+sacredness of his profession. It seemed to me not unlike the feeling
+of Isaiah when, in the vision, his mouth had been touched with the
+celestial fire. And I can only hope that something of this may be read
+between my very inadequate lines.
+
+Looking back, I fancy Derrick must have been a clever child. But he was
+not precocious, and in some respects was even decidedly backward. I can
+see him now--it is my first clear recollection of him--leaning back
+in the corner of my father’s carriage as we drove from the Newmarket
+station to our summer home at Mondisfield. He and I were small boys of
+eight, and Derrick had been invited for the holidays, while his twin
+brother--if I remember right--indulged in typhoid fever at Kensington.
+He was shy and silent, and the ice was not broken until we passed
+Silvery Steeple.
+
+“That,” said my father, “is a ruined church; it was destroyed by
+Cromwell in the Civil Wars.”
+
+In an instant the small quiet boy sitting beside me was transformed. His
+eyes shone; he sprang forward and thrust his head far out of the window,
+gazing at the old ivy-covered tower as long as it remained in sight.
+
+“Was Cromwell really once there?” he asked with breathless interest.
+
+“So they say,” replied my father, looking with an amused smile at the
+face of the questioner, in which eagerness, delight, and reverence were
+mingled. “Are you an admirer of the Lord Protector?”
+
+“He is my greatest hero of all,” said Derrick fervently. “Do you
+think--oh, do you think he possibly can ever have come to Mondisfield?”
+
+My father thought not, but said there was an old tradition that the
+Hall had been attacked by the Royalists, and the bridge over the moat
+defended by the owner of the house; but he had no great belief in the
+story, for which, indeed, there seemed no evidence.
+
+Derrick’s eyes during this conversation were something wonderful to see,
+and long after, when we were not actually playing at anything, I used
+often to notice the same expression stealing over him, and would cry
+out, “There is the man defending the bridge again; I can see him in your
+eyes! Tell me what happened to him next!”
+
+Then, generally pacing to and fro in the apple walk, or sitting astride
+the bridge itself, Derrick would tell me of the adventures of my
+ancestor, Paul Wharncliffe, who performed incredible feats of valour,
+and who was to both of us a most real person. On wet days he wrote
+his story in a copy-book, and would have worked at it for hours had my
+mother allowed him, though of the manual part of the work he had, and
+has always retained, the greatest dislike. I remember well the comical
+ending of this first story of his. He skipped over an interval of ten
+years, represented on the page by ten laboriously made stars, and did
+for his hero in the following lines:
+
+“And now, reader, let us come into Mondisfield churchyard. There are
+three tombstones. On one is written, ‘Mr. Paul Wharncliffe.’”
+
+The story was no better than the productions of most eight-year-old
+children, the written story at least. But, curiously enough, it proved
+to be the germ of the celebrated romance, ‘At Strife,’ which Derrick
+wrote in after years; and he himself maintains that his picture of life
+during the Civil War would have been much less graphic had he not lived
+so much in the past during his various visits to Mondisfield.
+
+It was at his second visit, when we were nine, that I remember his
+announcing his intention of being an author when he was grown up. My
+mother still delights in telling the story. She was sitting at work in
+the south parlour one day, when I dashed into the room calling out:
+
+“Derrick’s head is stuck between the banisters in the gallery; come
+quick, mother, come quick!”
+
+She ran up the little winding staircase, and there, sure enough, in
+the musician’s gallery, was poor Derrick, his manuscript and pen on the
+floor and his head in durance vile.
+
+“You silly boy!” said my mother, a little frightened when she found that
+to get the head back was no easy matter, “What made you put it through?”
+
+“You look like King Charles at Carisbrooke,” I cried, forgetting how
+much Derrick would resent the speech.
+
+And being released at that moment he took me by the shoulders and gave
+me an angry shake or two, as he said vehemently, “I’m not like King
+Charles! King Charles was a liar.”
+
+I saw my mother smile a little as she separated us.
+
+“Come, boys, don’t quarrel,” she said. “And Derrick will tell me the
+truth, for indeed I am curious to know why he thrust his head in such a
+place.”
+
+“I wanted to make sure,” said Derrick, “whether Paul Wharncliffe could
+see Lady Lettice, when she took the falcon on her wrist below in the
+passage. I mustn’t say he saw her if it’s impossible, you know. Authors
+have to be quite true in little things, and I mean to be an author.”
+
+“But,” said my mother, laughing at the great earnestness of the hazel
+eyes, “could not your hero look over the top of the rail?”
+
+“Well, yes,” said Derrick. “He would have done that, but you see it’s
+so dreadfully high and I couldn’t get up. But I tell you what, Mrs.
+Wharncliffe, if it wouldn’t be giving you a great deal of trouble--I’m
+sorry you were troubled to get my head back again--but if you would
+just look over, since you are so tall, and I’ll run down and act Lady
+Lettice.”
+
+“Why couldn’t Paul go downstairs and look at the lady in comfort?” asked
+my mother.
+
+Derrick mused a little.
+
+“He might look at her through a crack in the door at the foot of the
+stairs, perhaps, but that would seem mean, somehow. It would be a pity,
+too, not to use the gallery; galleries are uncommon, you see, and you
+can get cracked doors anywhere. And, you know, he was obliged to look at
+her when she couldn’t see him, because their fathers were on different
+sides in the war, and dreadful enemies.”
+
+When school-days came, matters went on much in the same way; there was
+always an abominably scribbled tale stowed away in Derrick’s desk, and
+he worked infinitely harder than I did, because there was always before
+him this determination to be an author and to prepare himself for
+the life. But he wrote merely from love of it, and with no idea of
+publication until the beginning of our last year at Oxford, when,
+having reached the ripe age of one-and-twenty, he determined to delay no
+longer, but to plunge boldly into his first novel.
+
+He was seldom able to get more than six or eight hours a week for it,
+because he was reading rather hard, so that the novel progressed but
+slowly. Finally, to my astonishment, it came to a dead stand-still.
+
+I have never made out exactly what was wrong with Derrick then, though
+I know that he passed through a terrible time of doubt and despair. I
+spent part of the Long with him down at Ventnor, where his mother had
+been ordered for her health. She was devoted to Derrick, and as far as
+I can understand, he was her chief comfort in life. Major Vaughan, the
+husband, had been out in India for years; the only daughter was married
+to a rich manufacturer at Birmingham, who had a constitutional dislike
+to mothers-in-law, and as far as possible eschewed their company; while
+Lawrence, Derrick’s twin brother, was for ever getting into scrapes, and
+was into the bargain the most unblushingly selfish fellow I ever had the
+pleasure of meeting.
+
+“Sydney,” said Mrs. Vaughan to me one afternoon when we were in the
+garden, “Derrick seems to me unlike himself, there is a division between
+us which I never felt before. Can you tell me what is troubling him?”
+
+She was not at all a good-looking woman, but she had a very sweet,
+wistful face, and I never looked at her sad eyes without feeling ready
+to go through fire and water for her. I tried now to make light of
+Derrick’s depression.
+
+“He is only going through what we all of us go through,” I said,
+assuming a cheerful tone. “He has suddenly discovered that life is a
+great riddle, and that the things he has accepted in blind faith are,
+after all, not so sure.”
+
+She sighed.
+
+“Do all go through it?” she said thoughtfully. “And how many, I wonder,
+get beyond?”
+
+“Few enough,” I replied moodily. Then, remembering my role,--“But
+Derrick will get through; he has a thousand things to help him which
+others have not,--you, for instance. And then I fancy he has a sort of
+insight which most of us are without.”
+
+“Possibly,” she said. “As for me, it is little that I can do for him.
+Perhaps you are right, and it is true that once in a life at any rate we
+all have to go into the wilderness alone.”
+
+That was the last summer I ever saw Derrick’s mother; she took a chill
+the following Christmas and died after a few days’ illness. But I have
+always thought her death helped Derrick in a way that her life might
+have failed to do. For although he never, I fancy, quite recovered from
+the blow, and to this day cannot speak of her without tears in his eyes,
+yet when he came back to Oxford he seemed to have found the answer to
+the riddle, and though older, sadder and graver than before, had quite
+lost the restless dissatisfaction that for some time had clouded his
+life. In a few months, moreover, I noticed a fresh sign that he was out
+of the wood. Coming into his rooms one day I found him sitting in the
+cushioned window-seat, reading over and correcting some sheets of blue
+foolscap.
+
+“At it again?” I asked.
+
+He nodded.
+
+“I mean to finish the first volume here. For the rest I must be in
+London.”
+
+“Why?” I asked, a little curious as to this unknown art of novel-making.
+
+“Because,” he replied, “one must be in the heart of things to understand
+how Lynwood was affected by them.”
+
+“Lynwood! I believe you are always thinking of him!” (Lynwood was the
+hero of his novel.)
+
+“Well, so I am nearly--so I must be, if the book is to be any good.”
+
+“Read me what you have written,” I said, throwing myself back in a
+rickety but tolerably comfortable arm-chair which Derrick had inherited
+with the rooms.
+
+He hesitated a moment, being always very diffident about his own work;
+but presently, having provided me with a cigar and made a good deal of
+unnecessary work in arranging the sheets of the manuscript, he began to
+read aloud, rather nervously, the opening chapters of the book now so
+well known under the title of ‘Lynwood’s Heritage.’
+
+I had heard nothing of his for the last four years, and was amazed at
+the gigantic stride he had made in the interval. For, spite of a certain
+crudeness, it seemed to me a most powerful story; it rushed straight to
+the point with no wavering, no beating about the bush; it flung itself
+into the problems of the day with a sort of sublime audacity; it took
+hold of one; it whirled one along with its own inherent force, and drew
+forth both laughter and tears, for Derrick’s power of pathos had always
+been his strongest point.
+
+All at once he stopped reading.
+
+“Go on!” I cried impatiently.
+
+“That is all,” he said, gathering the sheets together.
+
+“You stopped in the middle of a sentence!” I cried in exasperation.
+
+“Yes,” he said quietly, “for six months.”
+
+“You provoking fellow! why, I wonder?”
+
+“Because I didn’t know the end.”
+
+“Good heavens! And do you know it now?”
+
+He looked me full in the face, and there was an expression in his eyes
+which puzzled me.
+
+“I believe I do,” he said; and, getting up, he crossed the room, put the
+manuscript away in a drawer, and returning, sat down in the window-seat
+again, looking out on the narrow, paved street below, and at the grey
+buildings opposite.
+
+I knew very well that he would never ask me what I thought of the
+story--that was not his way.
+
+“Derrick!” I exclaimed, watching his impassive face, “I believe after
+all you are a genius.”
+
+I hardly know why I said “after all,” but till that moment it had
+never struck me that Derrick was particularly gifted. He had so far got
+through his Oxford career creditably, but then he had worked hard; his
+talents were not of a showy order. I had never expected that he would
+set the Thames on fire. Even now it seemed to me that he was too dreamy,
+too quiet, too devoid of the pushing faculty to succeed in the world.
+
+My remark made him laugh incredulously.
+
+“Define a genius,” he said.
+
+For answer I pulled down his beloved Imperial Dictionary and read
+him the following quotation from De Quincey: ‘Genius is that mode of
+intellectual power which moves in alliance with the genial nature, i.e.,
+with the capacities of pleasure and pain; whereas talent has no
+vestige of such an alliance, and is perfectly independent of all human
+sensibilities.’
+
+“Let me think! You can certainly enjoy things a hundred times more than
+I can--and as for suffering, why you were always a great hand at that.
+Now listen to the great Dr. Johnson and see if the cap fits, ‘The true
+genius is a mind of large general powers accidentally determined in some
+particular direction.’
+
+“‘Large general powers’!--yes, I believe after all you have them with,
+alas, poor Derrick! one notable exception--the mathematical faculty. You
+were always bad at figures. We will stick to De Quincey’s definition,
+and for heaven’s sake, my dear fellow, do get Lynwood out of that awful
+plight! No wonder you were depressed when you lived all this age with
+such a sentence unfinished!”
+
+“For the matter of that,” said Derrick, “he can’t get out till the end
+of the book; but I can begin to go on with him now.”
+
+“And when you leave Oxford?”
+
+“Then I mean to settle down in London--to write leisurely--and possibly
+to read for the Bar.”
+
+“We might be together,” I suggested. And Derrick took to this idea,
+being a man who detested solitude and crowds about equally. Since his
+mother’s death he had been very much alone in the world. To Lawrence he
+was always loyal, but the two had nothing in common, and though fond
+of his sister he could not get on at all with the manufacturer, his
+brother-in-law. But this prospect of life together in London pleased him
+amazingly; he began to recover his spirits to a great extent and to look
+much more like himself.
+
+It must have been just as he had taken his degree that he received a
+telegram to announce that Major Vaughan had been invalided home, and
+would arrive at Southampton in three weeks’ time. Derrick knew very
+little of his father, but apparently Mrs. Vaughan had done her best to
+keep up a sort of memory of his childish days at Aldershot, and in
+these the part that his father played was always pleasant. So he looked
+forward to the meeting not a little, while I, from the first, had my
+doubts as to the felicity it was likely to bring him.
+
+However, it was ordained that before the Major’s ship arrived, his son’s
+whole life should change. Even Lynwood was thrust into the background.
+As for me, I was nowhere. For Derrick, the quiet, the self-contained,
+had fallen passionately in love with a certain Freda Merrifield.
+
+
+
+Chapter II.
+
+     ‘Infancy?  What if the rose-streak of morning
+      Pale and depart in a passion of tears?
+      Once to have hoped is no matter for scorning:
+      Love once:  e’en love’s disappointment endears;
+      A moment’s success pays the failure of years.’
+                                               R. Browning.
+
+The wonder would have been if he had not fallen in love with her, for
+a more fascinating girl I never saw. She had only just returned from
+school at Compiegne, and was not yet out; her charming freshness
+was unsullied; she had all the simplicity and straightforwardness of
+unspoilt, unsophisticated girlhood. I well remember our first sight
+of her. We had been invited for a fortnight’s yachting by Calverley of
+Exeter. His father, Sir John Calverley, had a sailing yacht, and some
+guests having disappointed him at the last minute, he gave his son carte
+blanche as to who he should bring to fill the vacant berths.
+
+So we three travelled down to Southampton together one hot summer day,
+and were rowed out to the Aurora, an uncommonly neat little schooner
+which lay in that over-rated and frequently odoriferous roadstead,
+Southampton Water. However, I admit that on that evening--the tide being
+high--the place looked remarkably pretty; the level rays of the setting
+sun turned the water to gold; a soft luminous haze hung over the town
+and the shipping, and by a stretch of imagination one might have thought
+the view almost Venetian. Derrick’s perfect content was only marred
+by his shyness. I knew that he dreaded reaching the Aurora; and sure
+enough, as we stepped on to the exquisitely white deck and caught sight
+of the little group of guests, I saw him retreat into his crab-shell of
+silent reserve. Sir John, who made a very pleasant host, introduced us
+to the other visitors--Lord Probyn and his wife and their niece, Miss
+Freda Merrifield. Lady Probyn was Sir John’s sister, and also the sister
+of Miss Merrifield’s mother; so that it was almost a family party,
+and by no means a formidable gathering. Lady Probyn played the part of
+hostess and chaperoned her pretty niece; but she was not in the least
+like the aunt of fiction--on the contrary, she was comparatively young
+in years and almost comically young in mind; her niece was devoted to
+her, and the moment I saw her I knew that our cruise could not possibly
+be dull.
+
+As to Miss Freda, when we first caught sight of her she was standing
+near the companion, dressed in a daintily made yachting costume of blue
+serge and white braid, and round her white sailor hat she wore the
+name of the yacht stamped on a white ribbon; in her waist-band she
+had fastened two deep crimson roses, and she looked at us with frank,
+girlish curiosity, no doubt wondering whether we should add to or
+detract from the enjoyment of the expedition. She was rather tall,
+and there was an air of strength and energy about her which was most
+refreshing. Her skin was singularly white, but there was a healthy glow
+of colour in her cheeks; while her large, grey eyes, shaded by long
+lashes, were full of life and brightness. As to her features, they
+were perhaps a trifle irregular, and her elder sisters were supposed to
+eclipse her altogether; but to my mind she was far the most taking of
+the three.
+
+I was not in the least surprised that Derrick should fall head over ears
+in love with her; she was exactly the sort of girl that would infallibly
+attract him. Her absence of shyness; her straightforward, easy way of
+talking; her genuine goodheartedness; her devotion to animals--one of
+his own pet hobbies--and finally her exquisite playing, made the
+result a foregone conclusion. And then, moreover, they were perpetually
+together. He would hang over the piano in the saloon for hours while she
+played, the rest of us lazily enjoying the easy chairs and the fresh air
+on deck; and whenever we landed, these two were sure in the end to be
+just a little apart from the rest of us.
+
+It was an eminently successful cruise. We all liked each other; the sea
+was calm, the sunshine constant, the wind as a rule favourable, and I
+think I never in a single fortnight heard so many good stories, or had
+such a good time. We seemed to get right out of the world and its narrow
+restrictions, away from all that was hollow and base and depressing,
+only landing now and then at quaint little quiet places for some merry
+excursion on shore. Freda was in the highest spirits; and as to Derrick,
+he was a different creature. She seemed to have the power of drawing him
+out in a marvellous degree, and she took the greatest interest in his
+work--a sure way to every author’s heart.
+
+But it was not till one day, when we landed at Tresco, that I felt
+certain she genuinely loved him--there in one glance the truth flashed
+upon me. I was walking with one of the gardeners down one of the long
+shady paths of that lovely little island, with its curiously foreign
+look, when we suddenly came face to face with Derrick and Freda. They
+were talking earnestly, and I could see her great grey eyes as they were
+lifted to his--perhaps they were more expressive than she knew--I cannot
+say. They both started a little as we confronted them, and the colour
+deepened in Freda’s face. The gardener, with what photographers usually
+ask for--‘just the faint beginning of a smile,’--turned and gathered a
+bit of white heather growing near.
+
+“They say it brings good luck, miss,” he remarked, handing it to Freda.
+
+“Thank you,” she said, laughing, “I hope it will bring it to me. At
+any rate it will remind me of this beautiful island. Isn’t it just like
+Paradise, Mr. Wharncliffe?”
+
+“For me it is like Paradise before Eve was created,” I replied, rather
+wickedly. “By the bye, are you going to keep all the good luck to
+yourself?”
+
+“I don’t know,” she said laughing. “Perhaps I shall; but you have only
+to ask the gardener, he will gather you another piece directly.”
+
+I took good care to drop behind, having no taste for the third-fiddle
+business; but I noticed when we were in the gig once more, rowing back
+to the yacht, that the white heather had been equally divided--one half
+was in the waist-band of the blue serge dress, the other half in the
+button-hole of Derrick’s blazer.
+
+So the fortnight slipped by, and at length one afternoon we found
+ourselves once more in Southampton Water; then came the bustle of
+packing and the hurry of departure, and the merry party dispersed.
+Derrick and I saw them all off at the station, for, as his father’s ship
+did not arrive till the following day, I made up my mind to stay on with
+him at Southampton.
+
+“You will come and see us in town,” said Lady Probyn, kindly. And Lord
+Probyn invited us both for the shooting at Blachington in September. “We
+will have the same party on shore, and see if we can’t enjoy ourselves
+almost as well,” he said in his hearty way; “the novel will go all the
+better for it, eh, Vaughan?”
+
+Derrick brightened visibly at the suggestion. I heard him talking to
+Freda all the time that Sir John stood laughing and joking as to the
+comparative pleasures of yachting and shooting.
+
+“You will be there too?” Derrick asked.
+
+“I can’t tell,” said Freda, and there was a shade of sadness in her
+tone. Her voice was deeper than most women’s voices--a rich contralto
+with something striking and individual about it. I could hear her quite
+plainly; but Derrick spoke less distinctly--he always had a bad trick of
+mumbling.
+
+“You see I am the youngest,” she said, “and I am not really ‘out.’
+Perhaps my mother will wish one of the elder ones to go; but I half
+think they are already engaged for September, so after all I may have a
+chance.”
+
+Inaudible remark from my friend.
+
+“Yes, I came here because my sisters did not care to leave London till
+the end of the season,” replied the clear contralto. “It has been a
+perfect cruise. I shall remember it all my life.”
+
+After that, nothing more was audible; but I imagine Derrick must have
+hazarded a more personal question, and that Freda had admitted that it
+was not only the actual sailing she should remember. At any rate her
+face when I caught sight of it again made me think of the girl described
+in the ‘Biglow Papers’:
+
+     “‘’Twas kin’ o’ kingdom come to look
+        On sech a blessed creatur.
+        A dogrose blushin’ to a brook
+        Ain’t modester nor sweeter.’”
+
+So the train went off, and Derrick and I were left to idle about
+Southampton and kill time as best we might. Derrick seemed to walk the
+streets in a sort of dream--he was perfectly well aware that he had met
+his fate, and at that time no thought of difficulties in the way had
+arisen either in his mind or in my own. We were both of us young and
+inexperienced; we were both of us in love, and we had the usual lover’s
+notion that everything in heaven and earth is prepared to favour the
+course of his particular passion.
+
+I remember that we soon found the town intolerable, and, crossing by the
+ferry, walked over to Netley Abbey, and lay down idly in the shade of
+the old grey walls. Not a breath of wind stirred the great masses of
+ivy which were wreathed about the ruined church, and the place looked so
+lovely in its decay, that we felt disposed to judge the dissolute
+monks very leniently for having behaved so badly that their church and
+monastery had to be opened to the four winds of heaven. After all, when
+is a church so beautiful as when it has the green grass for its floor
+and the sky for its roof?
+
+I could show you the very spot near the East window where Derrick told
+me the whole truth, and where we talked over Freda’s perfections and the
+probability of frequent meetings in London. He had listened so often and
+so patiently to my affairs, that it seemed an odd reversal to have to
+play the confidant; and if now and then my thoughts wandered off to the
+coming month at Mondisfield, and pictured violet eyes while he talked of
+grey, it was not from any lack of sympathy with my friend.
+
+Derrick was not of a self-tormenting nature, and though I knew he was
+amazed at the thought that such a girl as Freda could possibly care for
+him, yet he believed most implicitly that this wonderful thing had come
+to pass; and, remembering her face as we had last seen it, and the look
+in her eyes at Tresco, I, too, had not a shadow of a doubt that she
+really loved him. She was not the least bit of a flirt, and society
+had not had a chance yet of moulding her into the ordinary girl of the
+nineteenth century.
+
+Perhaps it was the sudden and unexpected change of the next day that
+makes me remember Derrick’s face so distinctly as he lay back on the
+smooth turf that afternoon in Netley Abbey. As it looked then, full of
+youth and hope, full of that dream of cloudless love, I never saw it
+again.
+
+
+
+Chapter III.
+
+     “Religion in him never died, but became a habit--a habit of
+     enduring hardness, and cleaving to the steadfast performance
+     of duty in the face of the strongest allurements to the
+     pleasanter and easier course.” Life of Charles Lamb, by A.
+     Ainger.
+
+Derrick was in good spirits the next day. He talked much of Major
+Vaughan, wondered whether the voyage home had restored his health,
+discussed the probable length of his leave, and speculated as to the
+nature of his illness; the telegram had of course given no details.
+
+“There has not been even a photograph for the last five years,” he
+remarked, as we walked down to the quay together. “Yet I think I should
+know him anywhere, if it is only by his height. He used to look so well
+on horseback. I remember as a child seeing him in a sham fight charging
+up Caesar’s Camp.”
+
+“How old were you when he went out?”
+
+“Oh, quite a small boy,” replied Derrick. “It was just before I first
+stayed with you. However, he has had a regular succession of photographs
+sent out to him, and will know me easily enough.”
+
+Poor Derrick! I can’t think of that day even now without a kind of
+mental shiver. We watched the great steamer as it glided up to the quay,
+and Derrick scanned the crowded deck with eager eyes, but could nowhere
+see the tall, soldierly figure that had lingered so long in his memory.
+He stood with his hand resting on the rail of the gangway, and when
+presently it was raised to the side of the steamer, he still kept his
+position, so that he could instantly catch sight of his father as he
+passed down. I stood close behind him, and watched the motley procession
+of passengers; most of them had the dull colourless skin which bespeaks
+long residence in India, and a particularly yellow and peevish-looking
+old man was grumbling loudly as he slowly made his way down the gangway.
+
+“The most disgraceful scene!” he remarked. “The fellow was as drunk as
+he could be.”
+
+“Who was it?” asked his companion.
+
+“Why, Major Vaughan, to be sure. The only wonder is that he hasn’t drunk
+himself to death by this time--been at it years enough!”
+
+Derrick turned, as though to shelter himself from the curious eyes of
+the travellers; but everywhere the quay was crowded. It seemed to me not
+unlike the life that lay before him, with this new shame which could not
+be hid, and I shall never forget the look of misery in his face.
+
+“Most likely a great exaggeration of that spiteful old fogey’s,” I said.
+“Never believe anything that you hear, is a sound axiom. Had you not
+better try to get on board?”
+
+“Yes; and for heaven’s sake come with me, Wharncliffe!” he said. “It
+can’t be true! It is, as you say, that man’s spite, or else there is
+someone else of the name on board. That must be it--someone else of the
+name.”
+
+I don’t know whether he managed to deceive himself. We made our way
+on board, and he spoke to one of the stewards, who conducted us to the
+saloon. I knew from the expression of the man’s face that the words we
+had overheard were but too true; it was a mere glance that he gave
+us, yet if he had said aloud, “They belong to that old drunkard! Thank
+heaven I’m not in their shoes!” I could not have better understood what
+was in his mind.
+
+There were three persons only in the great saloon: an officer’s servant,
+whose appearance did not please me; a fine looking old man with grey
+hair and whiskers, and a rough-hewn honest face, apparently the ship’s
+doctor; and a tall grizzled man in whom I at once saw a sort of horrible
+likeness to Derrick--horrible because this face was wicked and degraded,
+and because its owner was drunk--noisily drunk. Derrick paused for a
+minute, looking at his father; then, deadly pale, he turned to the old
+doctor. “I am Major Vaughan’s son,” he said.
+
+The doctor grasped his hand, and there was something in the old man’s
+kindly, chivalrous manner which brought a sort of light into the gloom.
+
+“I am very glad to see you!” he exclaimed. “Is the Major’s luggage
+ready?” he inquired turning to the servant. Then, as the man replied
+in the affirmative, “How would it be, Mr. Vaughan, if your father’s man
+just saw the things into a cab? and then I’ll come on shore with you and
+see my patient safely settled in.”
+
+Derrick acquiesced, and the doctor turned to the Major, who was leaning
+up against one of the pillars of the saloon and shouting out “‘Twas in
+Trafalgar Bay,” in a way which, under other circumstances, would have
+been highly comic. The doctor interrupted him, as with much feeling he
+sang how:
+
+     “England declared that every man
+      That day had done his duty.”
+
+“Look, Major,” he said; “here is your son come to meet you.”
+
+“Glad to see you, my boy,” said the Major, reeling forward and running
+all his words together. “How’s your mother? Is this Lawrence? Glad to
+see both of you! Why, you’r’s like’s two peas! Not Lawrence, do you say?
+Confound it, doctor, how the ship rolls to-day!”
+
+And the old wretch staggered and would have fallen, had not Derrick
+supported him and landed him safely on one of the fixed ottomans.
+
+“Yes, yes, you’re the son for me,” he went on, with a bland smile, which
+made his face all the more hideous. “You’re not so rough and clumsy as
+that confounded John Thomas, whose hands are like brickbats. I’m a mere
+wreck, as you see; it’s the accursed climate! But your mother will soon
+nurse me into health again; she was always a good nurse, poor soul!
+it was her best point. What with you and your mother, I shall soon be
+myself again.”
+
+Here the doctor interposed, and Derrick made desperately for a porthole
+and gulped down mouthfuls of fresh air: but he was not allowed much of a
+respite, for the servant returned to say that he had procured a cab, and
+the Major called loudly for his son’s arm.
+
+“I’ll not have you,” he said, pushing the servant violently away. “Come,
+Derrick, help me! you are worth two of that blockhead.”
+
+And Derrick came quickly forward, his face still very pale, but with a
+dignity about it which I had never before seen; and, giving his arm
+to his drunken father, he piloted him across the saloon, through the
+staring ranks of stewards, officials, and tardy passengers outside,
+down the gangway, and over the crowded quay to the cab. I knew that each
+derisive glance of the spectators was to him like a sword-thrust, and
+longed to throttle the Major, who seemed to enjoy himself amazingly on
+terra firma, and sang at the top of his voice as we drove through
+the streets of Southampton. The old doctor kept up a cheery flow of
+small-talk with me, thinking, no doubt, that this would be a kindness to
+Derrick: and at last that purgatorial drive ended, and somehow Derrick
+and the doctor between them got the Major safely into his room at
+Radley’s Hotel.
+
+We had ordered lunch in a private sitting-room, thinking that the Major
+would prefer it to the coffee-room; but, as it turned out, he was in no
+state to appear. They left him asleep, and the ship’s doctor sat in
+the seat that had been prepared for his patient, and made the meal
+as tolerable to us both as it could be. He was an odd, old-fashioned
+fellow, but as true a gentleman as ever breathed.
+
+“Now,” he said, when lunch was over, “you and I must have a talk
+together, Mr. Vaughan, and I will help you to understand your father’s
+case.”
+
+I made a movement to go, but sat down again at Derrick’s request. I
+think, poor old fellow, he dreaded being alone, and knowing that I
+had seen his father at the worst, thought I might as well hear all
+particulars.
+
+“Major Vaughan,” continued the doctor, “has now been under my care for
+some weeks, and I had some communication with the regimental surgeon
+about his case before he sailed. He is suffering from an enlarged
+liver, and the disease has been brought on by his unfortunate habit
+of over-indulgence in stimulants.” I could almost have smiled, so very
+gently and considerately did the good old man veil in long words
+the shameful fact. “It is a habit sadly prevalent among our
+fellow-countrymen in India; the climate aggravates the mischief, and
+very many lives are in this way ruined. Then your father was also
+unfortunate enough to contract rheumatism when he was camping out in the
+jungle last year, and this is increasing on him very much, so that his
+life is almost intolerable to him, and he naturally flies for relief to
+his greatest enemy, drink. At all costs, however, you must keep him from
+stimulants; they will only intensify the disease and the sufferings, in
+fact they are poison to a man in such a state. Don’t think I am a bigot
+in these matters; but I say that for a man in such a condition as this,
+there is nothing for it but total abstinence, and at all costs your
+father must be guarded from the possibility of procuring any sort of
+intoxicating drink. Throughout the voyage I have done my best to
+shield him, but it was a difficult matter. His servant, too, is not
+trustworthy, and should be dismissed if possible.”
+
+“Had he spoken at all of his plans?” asked Derrick, and his voice
+sounded strangely unlike itself.
+
+“He asked me what place in England he had better settle down in,” said
+the doctor, “and I strongly recommended him to try Bath. This seemed to
+please him, and if he is well enough he had better go there to-morrow.
+He mentioned your mother this morning; no doubt she will know how to
+manage him.”
+
+“My mother died six months ago,” said Derrick, pushing back his chair
+and beginning to pace the room. The doctor made kindly apologies.
+
+“Perhaps you have a sister, who could go to him?”
+
+“No,” replied Derrick. “My only sister is married, and her husband would
+never allow it.”
+
+“Or a cousin or an aunt?” suggested the old man, naively unconscious
+that the words sounded like a quotation.
+
+I saw the ghost of a smile flit over Derrick’s harassed face as he shook
+his head.
+
+“I suggested that he should go into some Home for--cases of the kind,”
+ resumed the doctor, “or place himself under the charge of some medical
+man; however, he won’t hear of such a thing. But if he is left to
+himself--well, it is all up with him. He will drink himself to death in
+a few months.”
+
+“He shall not be left alone,” said Derrick; “I will live with him. Do
+you think I should do? It seems to be Hobson’s choice.”
+
+I looked up in amazement--for here was Derrick calmly giving himself up
+to a life that must crush every plan for the future he had made. Did men
+make such a choice as that while they took two or three turns in a room?
+Did they speak so composedly after a struggle that must have been so
+bitter? Thinking it over now, I feel sure it was his extraordinary gift
+of insight and his clear judgment which made him behave in this way. He
+instantly perceived and promptly acted; the worst of the suffering came
+long after.
+
+“Why, of course you are the very best person in the world for him,”
+ said the doctor. “He has taken a fancy to you, and evidently you have a
+certain influence with him. If any one can save him it will be you.”
+
+But the thought of allowing Derrick to be sacrificed to that old brute
+of a Major was more than I could bear calmly.
+
+“A more mad scheme was never proposed,” I cried. “Why, doctor, it will
+be utter ruin to my friend’s career; he will lose years that no one can
+ever make up. And besides, he is unfit for such a strain, he will never
+stand it.”
+
+My heart felt hot as I thought of Derrick, with his highly-strung,
+sensitive nature, his refinement, his gentleness, in constant
+companionship with such a man as Major Vaughan.
+
+“My dear sir,” said the old doctor, with a gleam in his eye, “I
+understand your feeling well enough. But depend upon it, your friend has
+made the right choice, and there is no doubt that he’ll be strong enough
+to do his duty.”
+
+The word reminded me of the Major’s song, and my voice was abominably
+sarcastic in tone as I said to Derrick, “You no longer consider writing
+your duty then?”
+
+“Yes,” he said, “but it must stand second to this. Don’t be vexed,
+Sydney; our plans are knocked on the head, but it is not so bad as you
+make out. I have at any rate enough to live on, and can afford to wait.”
+
+There was no more to be said, and the next day I saw that strange trio
+set out on their road to Bath. The Major looking more wicked when sober
+than he had done when drunk; the old doctor kindly and considerate as
+ever; and Derrick, with an air of resolution about that English face of
+his and a dauntless expression in his eyes which impressed me curiously.
+
+These quiet, reserved fellows are always giving one odd surprises.
+He had astonished me by the vigour and depth of the first volume of
+‘Lynwood’s Heritage.’ He astonished me now by a new phase in his own
+character. Apparently he who had always been content to follow where I
+led, and to watch life rather than to take an active share in it, now
+intended to strike out a very decided line of his own.
+
+
+
+Chapter IV.
+
+     “Both Goethe and Schiller were profoundly convinced that Art
+     was no luxury of leisure, no mere amusement to charm the
+     idle, or relax the careworn; but a mighty influence, serious
+     in its aims although pleasureable in its means; a sister of
+     Religion, by whose aid the great world-scheme was wrought
+     into reality.”  Lewes’s Life of Goethe.
+
+Man is a selfish being, and I am a particularly fine specimen of the
+race as far as that characteristic goes. If I had had a dozen drunken
+parents I should never have danced attendance on one of them; yet in my
+secret soul I admired Derrick for the line he had taken, for we mostly
+do admire what is unlike ourselves and really noble, though it is the
+fashion to seem totally indifferent to everything in heaven and earth.
+But all the same I felt annoyed about the whole business, and was glad
+to forget it in my own affairs at Mondisfield.
+
+Weeks passed by. I lived through a midsummer dream of happiness, and a
+hard awaking. That, however, has nothing to do with Derrick’s story,
+and may be passed over. In October I settled down in Montague Street,
+Bloomsbury, and began to read for the Bar, in about as disagreeable a
+frame of mind as can be conceived. One morning I found on my breakfast
+table a letter in Derrick’s handwriting. Like most men, we hardly ever
+corresponded--what women say in the eternal letters they send to each
+other I can’t conceive--but it struck me that under the circumstances
+I ought to have sent him a line to ask how he was getting on, and my
+conscience pricked me as I remembered that I had hardly thought of him
+since we parted, being absorbed in my own matters. The letter was not
+very long, but when one read between the lines it somehow told a good
+deal. I have it lying by me, and this is a copy of it:
+
+“Dear Sydney,--Do like a good fellow go to North Audley Street for me,
+to the house which I described to you as the one where Lynwood lodged,
+and tell me what he would see besides the church from his window--if
+shops, what kind? Also if any glimpse of Oxford Street would be visible.
+Then if you’ll add to your favours by getting me a second-hand copy of
+Laveleye’s ‘Socialisme Contemporain,’ I should be for ever grateful. We
+are settled in here all right. Bath is empty, but I people it as far as
+I can with the folk out of ‘Evelina’ and ‘Persuasion.’ How did you get
+on at Blachington? and which of the Misses Merrifield went in the end?
+Don’t bother about the commissions. Any time will do.
+
+“Ever yours,
+
+“Derrick Vaughan.”
+
+
+Poor old fellow! all the spirit seemed knocked out of him. There was not
+one word about the Major, and who could say what wretchedness was veiled
+in that curt phrase, “we are settled in all right”? All right! it was
+all as wrong as it could be! My blood began to boil at the thought of
+Derrick, with his great powers--his wonderful gift--cooped up in a place
+where the study of life was so limited and so dull. Then there was his
+hunger for news of Freda, and his silence as to what had kept him away
+from Blachington, and about all a sort of proud humility which prevented
+him from saying much that I should have expected him to say under the
+circumstances.
+
+It was Saturday, and my time was my own. I went out, got his book
+for him; interviewed North Audley Street; spent a bad five minutes in
+company with that villain ‘Bradshaw,’ who is responsible for so much of
+the brain and eye disease of the nineteenth century, and finally left
+Paddington in the Flying Dutchman, which landed me at Bath early in the
+afternoon. I left my portmanteau at the station, and walked through the
+city till I reached Gay Street. Like most of the streets of Bath, it
+was broad, and had on either hand dull, well-built, dark grey, eminently
+respectable, unutterably dreary-looking houses. I rang, and the door
+was opened to me by a most quaint old woman, evidently the landlady. An
+odour of curry pervaded the passage, and became more oppressive as the
+door of the sitting-room was opened, and I was ushered in upon the Major
+and his son, who had just finished lunch.
+
+“Hullo!” cried Derrick, springing up, his face full of delight which
+touched me, while at the same time it filled me with envy.
+
+Even the Major thought fit to give me a hearty welcome.
+
+“Glad to see you again,” he said pleasantly enough. “It’s a relief to
+have a fresh face to look at. We have a room which is quite at your
+disposal, and I hope you’ll stay with us. Brought your portmanteau, eh?”
+
+“It is at the station,” I replied.
+
+“See that it is sent for,” he said to Derrick; “and show Mr. Wharncliffe
+all that is to be seen in this cursed hole of a place.” Then, turning
+again to me, “Have you lunched? Very well, then, don’t waste this fine
+afternoon in an invalid’s room, but be off and enjoy yourself.”
+
+So cordial was the old man, that I should have thought him already a
+reformed character, had I not found that he kept the rough side of his
+tongue for home use. Derrick placed a novel and a small handbell within
+his reach, and we were just going, when we were checked by a volley
+of oaths from the Major; then a book came flying across the room, well
+aimed at Derrick’s head. He stepped aside, and let it fall with a crash
+on the sideboard.
+
+“What do you mean by giving me the second volume when you know I am in
+the third?” fumed the invalid.
+
+He apologised quietly, fetched the third volume, straightened the
+disordered leaves of the discarded second, and with the air of one well
+accustomed to such little domestic scenes, took up his hat and came out
+with me.
+
+“How long do you intend to go on playing David to the Major’s Saul?”
+ I asked, marvelling at the way in which he endured the humours of his
+father.
+
+“As long as I have the chance,” he replied. “I say, are you sure you
+won’t mind staying with us? It can’t be a very comfortable household for
+an outsider.”
+
+“Much better than for an insider, to all appearance,” I replied. “I’m
+only too delighted to stay. And now, old fellow, tell me the honest
+truth--you didn’t, you know, in your letter--how have you been getting
+on?”
+
+Derrick launched into an account of his father’s ailments.
+
+“Oh, hang the Major! I don’t care about him, I want to know about you,”
+ I cried.
+
+“About me?” said Derrick doubtfully. “Oh, I’m right enough.”
+
+“What do you do with yourself? How on earth do you kill time?” I asked.
+“Come, give me a full, true, and particular account of it all.”
+
+“We have tried three other servants,” said Derrick; “but the plan
+doesn’t answer. They either won’t stand it, or else they are bribed
+into smuggling brandy into the house. I find I can do most things for my
+father, and in the morning he has an attendant from the hospital who is
+trustworthy, and who does what is necessary for him. At ten we breakfast
+together, then there are the morning papers, which he likes to have read
+to him. After that I go round to the Pump Room with him--odd contrast
+now to what it must have been when Bath was the rage. Then we have
+lunch. In the afternoon, if he is well enough, we drive; if not he
+sleeps, and I get a walk. Later on an old Indian friend of his will
+sometimes drop in; if not he likes to be read to until dinner. After
+dinner we play chess--he is a first-rate player. At ten I help him to
+bed; from eleven to twelve I smoke and study Socialism and all the rest
+of it that Lynwood is at present floundering in.”
+
+“Why don’t you write, then?”
+
+“I tried it, but it didn’t answer. I couldn’t sleep after it, and was,
+in fact, too tired; seems absurd to be tired after such a day as that,
+but somehow it takes it out of one more than the hardest reading; I
+don’t know why.”
+
+“Why,” I said angrily, “it’s because it is work to which you are quite
+unsuited--work for a thick-skinned, hard-hearted, uncultivated and
+well-paid attendant, not for the novelist who is to be the chief light
+of our generation.”
+
+He laughed at this estimate of his powers.
+
+“Novelists, like other cattle, have to obey their owner,” he said
+lightly.
+
+I thought for a moment that he meant the Major, and was breaking into an
+angry remonstrance, when I saw that he meant something quite different.
+It was always his strongest point, this extraordinary consciousness of
+right, this unwavering belief that he had to do and therefore could do
+certain things. Without this, I know that he never wrote a line, and in
+my heart I believe this was the cause of his success.
+
+“Then you are not writing at all?” I asked.
+
+“Yes, I write generally for a couple of hours before breakfast,” he
+said.
+
+And that evening we sat by his gas stove and he read me the next four
+chapters of ‘Lynwood.’ He had rather a dismal lodging-house bedroom,
+with faded wall-paper and a prosaic snuff-coloured carpet. On a rickety
+table in the window was his desk, and a portfolio full of blue foolscap,
+but he had done what he could to make the place habitable; his Oxford
+pictures were on the walls--Hoffman’s ‘Christ speaking to the Woman
+taken in Adultery,’ hanging over the mantelpiece--it had always been a
+favourite of his. I remember that, as he read the description of Lynwood
+and his wife, I kept looking from him to the Christ in the picture till
+I could almost have fancied that each face bore the same expression. Had
+this strange monotonous life with that old brute of a Major brought him
+some new perception of those words, “Neither do I condemn thee”? But
+when he stopped reading, I, true to my character, forgot his affairs in
+my own, as we sat talking far into the night--talking of that luckless
+month at Mondisfield, of all the problems it had opened up, and of my
+wretchedness.
+
+“You were in town all September?” he asked; “you gave up Blachington?”
+
+“Yes,” I replied. “What did I care for country houses in such a mood as
+that.”
+
+He acquiesced, and I went on talking of my grievances, and it was not
+till I was in the train on my way back to London that I remembered how
+a look of disappointment had passed over his face just at the moment.
+Evidently he had counted on learning something about Freda from me, and
+I--well, I had clean forgotten both her existence and his passionate
+love.
+
+Something, probably self-interest, the desire for my friend’s company,
+and so forth, took me down to Bath pretty frequently in those days;
+luckily the Major had a sort of liking for me, and was always polite
+enough; and dear old Derrick--well, I believe my visits really helped
+to brighten him up. At any rate he said he couldn’t have borne his life
+without them, and for a sceptical, dismal, cynical fellow like me to
+hear that was somehow flattering. The mere force of contrast did me
+good. I used to come back on the Monday wondering that Derrick didn’t
+cut his throat, and realising that, after all, it was something to be
+a free agent, and to have comfortable rooms in Montague Street, with
+no old bear of a drunkard to disturb my peace. And then a sort of
+admiration sprang up in my heart, and the cynicism bred of melancholy
+broodings over solitary pipes was less rampant than usual.
+
+It was, I think, early in the new year that I met Lawrence Vaughan in
+Bath. He was not staying at Gay Street, so I could still have the vacant
+room next to Derrick’s. Lawrence put up at the York House Hotel.
+
+“For you know,” he informed me, “I really can’t stand the governor for
+more than an hour or two at a time.”
+
+“Derrick manages to do it,” I said.
+
+“Oh, Derrick, yes,” he replied, “it’s his metier, and he is well
+accustomed to the life. Besides, you know, he is such a dreamy, quiet
+sort of fellow; he lives all the time in a world of his own creation,
+and bears the discomforts of this world with great philosophy. Actually
+he has turned teetotaller! It would kill me in a week.”
+
+I make a point of never arguing with a fellow like that, but I think I
+had a vindictive longing, as I looked at him, to shut him up with the
+Major for a month, and see what would happen.
+
+These twin brothers were curiously alike in face and curiously unlike in
+nature. So much for the great science of physiognomy! It often seemed to
+me that they were the complement of each other. For instance, Derrick in
+society was extremely silent, Lawrence was a rattling talker; Derrick,
+when alone with you, would now and then reveal unsuspected depths of
+thought and expression; Lawrence, when alone with you, very frequently
+showed himself to be a cad. The elder twin was modest and diffident, the
+younger inclined to brag; the one had a strong tendency to melancholy,
+the other was blest or cursed with the sort of temperament which has
+been said to accompany “a hard heart and a good digestion.”
+
+I was not surprised to find that the son who could not tolerate the
+governor’s presence for more than an hour or two, was a prime favourite
+with the old man; that was just the way of the world. Of course, the
+Major was as polite as possible to him; Derrick got the kicks and
+Lawrence the half-pence.
+
+In the evenings we played whist, Lawrence coming in after dinner, “For,
+you know,” he explained to me, “I really couldn’t get through a meal
+with nothing but those infernal mineral waters to wash it down.”
+
+And here I must own that at my first visit I had sailed rather close to
+the wind; for when the Major, like the Hatter in ‘Alice,’ pressed me
+to take wine, I--not seeing any--had answered that I did not take it;
+mentally adding the words, “in your house, you brute!”
+
+The two brothers were fond of each other after a fashion. But Derrick
+was human, and had his faults like the rest of us; and I am pretty sure
+he did not much enjoy the sight of his father’s foolish and unreasonable
+devotion to Lawrence. If you come to think of it, he would have been a
+full-fledged angel if no jealous pang, no reflection that it was rather
+rough on him, had crossed his mind, when he saw his younger brother
+treated with every mark of respect and liking, and knew that Lawrence
+would never stir a finger really to help the poor fractious invalid.
+Unluckily they happened one night to get on the subject of professions.
+
+“It’s a comfort,” said the Major, in his sarcastic way, “to have a
+fellow-soldier to talk to instead of a quill-driver, who as yet is not
+even a penny-a-liner. Eh, Derrick? Don’t you feel inclined to regret
+your fool’s choice now? You might have been starting off for the war
+with Lawrence next week, if you hadn’t chosen what you’re pleased to
+call a literary life. Literary life, indeed! I little thought a son of
+mine would ever have been so wanting in spirit as to prefer dabbling in
+ink to a life of action--to be the scribbler of mere words, rather than
+an officer of dragoons.”
+
+Then to my astonishment Derrick sprang to his feet in hot indignation.
+I never saw him look so handsome, before or since; for his anger was
+not the distorting, devilish anger that the Major gave way to, but real
+downright wrath.
+
+“You speak contemptuously of mere novels,” he said in a low voice, yet
+more clearly than usual, and as if the words were wrung out of him.
+“What right have you to look down on one of the greatest weapons of the
+day? and why is a writer to submit to scoffs and insults and tamely to
+hear his profession reviled? I have chosen to write the message that
+has been given me, and I don’t regret the choice. Should I have shown
+greater spirit if I had sold my freedom and right of judgment to be one
+of the national killing machines?”
+
+With that he threw down his cards and strode out of the room in a white
+heat of anger. It was a pity he made that last remark, for it put him
+in the wrong and needlessly annoyed Lawrence and the Major. But an angry
+man has no time to weigh his words, and, as I said, poor old Derrick
+was very human, and when wounded too intolerably could on occasion
+retaliate.
+
+The Major uttered an oath and looked in astonishment at the retreating
+figure. Derrick was such an extraordinarily quiet, respectful,
+long-suffering son as a rule, that this outburst was startling in the
+extreme. Moreover, it spoilt the game, and the old man, chafed by the
+result of his own ill-nature, and helpless to bring back his partner,
+was forced to betake himself to chess. I left him grumbling away to
+Lawrence about the vanity of authors, and went out in the hope of
+finding Derrick. As I left the house I saw someone turn the corner into
+the Circus, and starting in pursuit, overtook the tall, dark figure
+where Bennett Street opens on to the Lansdowne Hill.
+
+“I’m glad you spoke up, old fellow,” I said, taking his arm.
+
+He modified his pace a little. “Why is it,” he exclaimed, “that every
+other profession can be taken seriously, but that a novelist’s work is
+supposed to be mere play? Good God! don’t we suffer enough? Have we
+not hard brain work and drudgery of desk work and tedious gathering of
+statistics and troublesome search into details? Have we not an appalling
+weight of responsibility on us?--and are we not at the mercy of a
+thousand capricious chances?”
+
+“Come now,” I exclaimed, “you know that you are never so happy as when
+you are writing.”
+
+“Of course,” he replied; “but that doesn’t make me resent such an attack
+the less. Besides, you don’t know what it is to have to write in such an
+atmosphere as ours; it’s like a weight on one’s pen. This life here is
+not life at all--it’s a daily death, and it’s killing the book too; the
+last chapters are wretched--I’m utterly dissatisfied with them.”
+
+“As for that,” I said calmly, “you are no judge at all. You can never
+tell the worth of your own work; the last bit is splendid.”
+
+“I could have done it better,” he groaned. “But there is always a
+ghastly depression dragging one back here--and then the time is so
+short; just as one gets into the swing of it the breakfast bell rings,
+and then comes--” He broke off.
+
+I could well supply the end of the sentence, however, for I knew that
+then came the slow torture of a tete-a-tete day with the Major, stinging
+sarcasms, humiliating scoldings, vexations and difficulties innumerable.
+
+I drew him to the left, having no mind to go to the top of the hill.
+We slackened our pace again and walked to and fro along the broad level
+pavement of Lansdowne Crescent. We had it entirely to ourselves--not
+another creature was in sight.
+
+“I could bear it all,” he burst forth, “if only there was a chance of
+seeing Freda. Oh, you are better off than I am--at least, you know the
+worst. Your hope is killed, but mine lives on a tortured, starved life!
+Would to God I had never seen her!”
+
+Certainly before that night I had never quite realised the
+irrevocableness of poor Derrick’s passion. I had half hoped that time
+and separation would gradually efface Freda Merrifield from his memory;
+and I listened with a dire foreboding to the flood of wretchedness
+which he poured forth as we paced up and down, thinking now and then how
+little people guessed at the tremendous powers hidden under his usually
+quiet exterior.
+
+At length he paused, but his last heart-broken words seemed to vibrate
+in the air and to force me to speak some kind of comfort.
+
+“Derrick,” I said, “come back with me to London--give up this miserable
+life.”
+
+I felt him start a little; evidently no thought of yielding had come
+to him before. We were passing the house that used to belong to that
+strange book-lover and recluse, Beckford. I looked up at the blank
+windows, and thought of that curious, self-centred life in the past,
+surrounded by every luxury, able to indulge every whim; and then I
+looked at my companion’s pale, tortured face, and thought of the life
+he had elected to lead in the hope of saving one whom duty bound him to
+honour. After all, which life was the most worth living--which was the
+most to be admired?
+
+We walked on; down below us and up on the farther hill we could see the
+lights of Bath; the place so beautiful by day looked now like a fairy
+city, and the Abbey, looming up against the moon-lit sky, seemed like
+some great giant keeping watch over the clustering roofs below. The
+well-known chimes rang out into the night and the clock struck ten.
+
+“I must go back,” said Derrick, quietly. “My father will want to get to
+bed.”
+
+I couldn’t say a word; we turned, passed Beckford’s house once more,
+walked briskly down the hill, and reached the Gay Street lodging-house.
+I remember the stifling heat of the room as we entered it, and its
+contrast to the cool, dark, winter’s night outside. I can vividly
+recall, too, the old Major’s face as he looked up with a sarcastic
+remark, but with a shade of anxiety in his bloodshot eyes. He was
+leaning back in a green-cushioned chair, and his ghastly yellow
+complexion seemed to me more noticeable than usual--his scanty grey
+hair and whiskers, the lines of pain so plainly visible in his face,
+impressed me curiously. I think I had never before realised what a wreck
+of a man he was--how utterly dependent on others.
+
+Lawrence, who, to do him justice, had a good deal of tact, and who, I
+believe, cared for his brother as much as he was capable of caring
+for any one but himself, repeated a good story with which he had been
+enlivening the Major, and I did what I could to keep up the talk.
+Derrick meanwhile put away the chessmen, and lighted the Major’s candle.
+He even managed to force up a laugh at Lawrence’s story, and, as he
+helped his father out of the room, I think I was the only one who
+noticed the look of tired endurance in his eyes.
+
+
+
+Chapter V.
+
+                                     “I know
+      How far high failure overtops the bounds
+      Of low successes.  Only suffering draws
+      The inner heart of song, and can elicit
+      The perfumes of the soul.”
+                                 Epic of Hades.
+
+Next week, Lawrence went off like a hero to the war; and my friend--also
+I think like a hero--stayed on at Bath, enduring as best he could the
+worst form of loneliness; for undoubtedly there is no loneliness so
+frightful as constant companionship with an uncongenial person. He had,
+however, one consolation: the Major’s health steadily improved, under
+the joint influence of total abstinence and Bath water, and, with the
+improvement, his temper became a little better.
+
+But one Saturday, when I had run down to Bath without writing
+beforehand, I suddenly found a different state of things. In Orange
+Grove I met Dr. Mackrill, the Major’s medical man; he used now and then
+to play whist with us on Saturday nights, and I stopped to speak to him.
+
+“Oh! you’ve come down again. That’s all right!” he said. “Your friend
+wants someone to cheer him up. He’s got his arm broken.”
+
+“How on earth did he manage that?” I asked.
+
+“Well, that’s more than I can tell you,” said the Doctor, with an odd
+look in his eyes, as if he guessed more than he would put into words.
+“All that I could get out of him was that it was done accidentally. The
+Major is not so well--no whist for us to-night, I’m afraid.”
+
+He passed on, and I made my way to Gay Street. There was an air of
+mystery about the quaint old landlady; she looked brimful of news when
+she opened the door to me, but she managed to ‘keep herself to herself,’
+and showed me in upon the Major and Derrick, rather triumphantly I
+thought. The Major looked terribly ill--worse than I had ever seen
+him, and as for Derrick, he had the strangest look of shrinking and
+shame-facedness you ever saw. He said he was glad to see me, but I knew
+that he lied. He would have given anything to have kept me away.
+
+“Broken your arm?” I exclaimed, feeling bound to take some notice of the
+sling.
+
+“Yes,” he replied; “met with an accident to it. But luckily it’s only
+the left one, so it doesn’t hinder me much! I have finished seven
+chapters of the last volume of ‘Lynwood,’ and was just wanting to ask
+you a legal question.”
+
+All this time his eyes bore my scrutiny defiantly; they seemed to dare
+me to say one other word about the broken arm. I didn’t dare--indeed to
+this day I have never mentioned the subject to him.
+
+But that evening, while he was helping the Major to bed, the old
+landlady made some pretext for toiling up to the top of the house, where
+I sat smoking in Derrick’s room.
+
+“You’ll excuse my making bold to speak to you, sir,” she said. I threw
+down my newspaper, and, looking up, saw that she was bubbling over with
+some story.
+
+“Well?” I said, encouragingly.
+
+“It’s about Mr. Vaughan, sir, I wanted to speak to you. I really do
+think, sir, it’s not safe he should be left alone with his father, sir,
+any longer. Such doings as we had here the other day, sir! Somehow or
+other--and none of us can’t think how--the Major had managed to get hold
+of a bottle of brandy. How he had it I don’t know; but we none of us
+suspected him, and in the afternoon he says he was too poorly to go for
+a drive or to go out in his chair, and settles off on the parlour sofa
+for a nap while Mr. Vaughan goes out for a walk. Mr. Vaughan was out a
+couple of hours. I heard him come in and go into the sitting-room;
+then there came sounds of voices, and a scuffling of feet and moving of
+chairs, and I knew something was wrong and hurried up to the door--and
+just then came a crash like fire-irons, and I could hear the Major
+a-swearing fearful. Not hearing a sound from Mr. Vaughan, I got scared,
+sir, and opened the door, and there I saw the Major a leaning up against
+the mantelpiece as drunk as a lord, and his son seemed to have got the
+bottle from him; it was half empty, and when he saw me he just handed it
+to me and ordered me to take it away. Then between us we got the Major
+to lie down on the sofa and left him there. When we got out into the
+passage Mr. Vaughan he leant against the wall for a minute, looking as
+white as a sheet, and then I noticed for the first time that his left
+arm was hanging down at his side. ‘Lord! sir,’ I cried, ‘your arm’s
+broken.’ And he went all at once as red as he had been pale just before,
+and said he had got it done accidentally, and bade me say nothing about
+it, and walked off there and then to the doctor’s, and had it set. But
+sir, given a man drunk as the Major was, and given a scuffle to get away
+the drink that was poisoning him, and given a crash such as I heard,
+and given a poker a-lying in the middle of the room where it stands to
+reason no poker could get unless it was thrown--why, sir, no sensible
+woman who can put two and two together can doubt that it was all the
+Major’s doing.”
+
+“Yes,” I said, “that is clear enough; but for Mr. Vaughan’s sake we must
+hush it up; and, as for safety, why, the Major is hardly strong enough
+to do him any worse damage than that.”
+
+The good old thing wiped away a tear from her eyes. She was very fond of
+Derrick, and it went to her heart that he should lead such a dog’s life.
+
+I said what I could to comfort her, and she went down again, fearful
+lest he should discover her upstairs and guess that she had opened her
+heart to me.
+
+Poor Derrick! That he of all people on earth should be mixed up with
+such a police court story--with drunkard, and violence, and pokers
+figuring in it! I lay back in the camp chair and looked at Hoffman’s
+‘Christ,’ and thought of all the extraordinary problems that one is for
+ever coming across in life. And I wondered whether the people of Bath
+who saw the tall, impassive-looking, hazel-eyed son and the invalid
+father in their daily pilgrimages to the Pump Room, or in church on
+Sunday, or in the Park on sunny afternoons had the least notion of
+the tragedy that was going on. My reflections were interrupted by his
+entrance. He had forced up a cheerfulness that I am sure he didn’t
+really feel, and seemed afraid of letting our talk flag for a moment. I
+remember, too, that for the first time he offered to read me his novel,
+instead of as usual waiting for me to ask to hear it. I can see him
+now, fetching the untidy portfolio and turning over the pages, adroitly
+enough, as though anxious to show how immaterial was the loss of a left
+arm. That night I listened to the first half of the third volume of
+‘Lynwood’s Heritage,’ and couldn’t help reflecting that its author
+seemed to thrive on misery; and yet how I grudged him to this
+deadly-lively place, and this monotonous, cooped-up life.
+
+“How do you manage to write one-handed?” I asked.
+
+And he sat down to his desk, put a letter-weight on the left-hand corner
+of the sheet of foolscap, and wrote that comical first paragraph of the
+eighth chapter over which we have all laughed. I suppose few readers
+guessed the author’s state of mind when he wrote it. I looked over his
+shoulder to see what he had written, and couldn’t help laughing aloud--I
+verily believe that it was his way of turning off attention from his
+arm, and leading me safely from the region of awkward questions.
+
+“By-the-by,” I exclaimed, “your writing of garden-parties reminds me. I
+went to one at Campden Hill the other day, and had the good fortune to
+meet Miss Freda Merrifield.”
+
+How his face lighted up, poor fellow, and what a flood of questions he
+poured out. “She looked very well and very pretty,” I replied. “I played
+two sets of tennis with her. She asked after you directly she saw me,
+seeming to think that we always hunted in couples. I told her you were
+living here, taking care of an invalid father; but just then up came
+the others to arrange the game. She and I got the best courts, and as we
+crossed over to them she told me she had met your brother several times
+last autumn, when she had been staying near Aldershot. Odd that he never
+mentioned her here; but I don’t suppose she made much impression on him.
+She is not at all his style.”
+
+“Did you have much more talk with her?” he asked.
+
+“No, nothing to be called talk. She told me they were leaving London
+next week, and she was longing to get back to the country to her beloved
+animals--rabbits, poultry, an aviary, and all that kind of thing. I
+should gather that they had kept her rather in the background this
+season, but I understand that the eldest sister is to be married in the
+winter, and then no doubt Miss Freda will be brought forward.”
+
+He seemed wonderfully cheered by this opportune meeting, and though
+there was so little to tell he appeared to be quite content. I left him
+on Monday in fairly good spirits, and did not come across him again till
+September, when his arm was well, and his novel finished and revised. He
+never made two copies of his work, and I fancy this was perhaps because
+he spent so short a time each day in actual writing, and lived so
+continually in his work; moreover, as I said before, he detested
+penmanship.
+
+The last part of ‘Lynwood’ far exceeded my expectations; perhaps--yet I
+don’t really think so--I viewed it too favourably. But I owed the book
+a debt of gratitude, since it certainly helped me through the worst part
+of my life.
+
+“Don’t you feel flat now it is finished?” I asked.
+
+“I felt so miserable that I had to plunge into another story three days
+after,” he replied; and then and there he gave me the sketch of his
+second novel, ‘At Strife,’ and told me how he meant to weave in his
+childish fancies about the defence of the bridge in the Civil Wars.
+
+“And about ‘Lynwood?’ Are you coming up to town to hawk him round?” I
+asked.
+
+“I can’t do that,” he said; “you see I am tied here. No, I must send him
+off by rail, and let him take his chance.”
+
+“No such thing!” I cried. “If you can’t leave Bath I will take him round
+for you.”
+
+And Derrick, who with the oddest inconsistency would let his MS. lie
+about anyhow at home, but hated the thought of sending it out alone on
+its travels, gladly accepted my offer. So next week I set off with the
+huge brown paper parcel; few, however, will appreciate my good nature,
+for no one but an author or a publisher knows the fearful weight of a
+three volume novel in MS.! To my intense satisfaction I soon got rid of
+it, for the first good firm to which I took it received it with great
+politeness, to be handed over to their ‘reader’ for an opinion; and
+apparently the ‘reader’s’ opinion coincided with mine, for a month
+later Derrick received an offer for it with which he at once closed--not
+because it was a good one, but because the firm was well thought of,
+and because he wished to lose no time, but to have the book published at
+once. I happened to be there when his first ‘proofs’ arrived. The Major
+had had an attack of jaundice, and was in a fiendish humour. We had
+a miserable time of it at dinner, for he badgered Derrick almost past
+bearing, and I think the poor old fellow minded it more when there was
+a third person present. Somehow through all he managed to keep his
+extraordinary capacity for reverencing mere age--even this degraded and
+detestable old age of the Major’s. I often thought that in this he
+was like my own ancestor, Hugo Wharncliffe, whose deference and
+respectfulness and patience had not descended to me, while unfortunately
+the effects of his physical infirmities had. I sometimes used to
+reflect bitterly enough on the truth of Herbert Spencer’s teaching as to
+heredity, so clearly shown in my own case. In the year 1683, through
+the abominable cruelty and harshness of his brother Randolph, this Hugo
+Wharncliffe, my great-great-great-great-great grandfather, was immured
+in Newgate, and his constitution was thereby so much impaired and
+enfeebled that, two hundred years after, my constitution is paying the
+penalty, and my whole life is thereby changed and thwarted. Hence this
+childless Randolph is affecting the course of several lives in the 19th
+century to their grievous hurt.
+
+But revenons a nos moutons--that is to say, to our lion and lamb--the
+old brute of a Major and his long-suffering son.
+
+While the table was being cleared, the Major took forty winks on the
+sofa, and we two beat a retreat, lit up our pipes in the passage, and
+were just turning out when the postman’s double knock came, but no
+showers of letters in the box. Derrick threw open the door, and the man
+handed him a fat, stumpy-looking roll in a pink wrapper.
+
+“I say!” he exclaimed, “PROOFS!”
+
+And, in hot haste, he began tearing away the pink paper, till out came
+the clean, folded bits of printing and the dirty and dishevelled blue
+foolscap, the look of which I knew so well. It is an odd feeling, that
+first seeing one’s self in print, and I could guess, even then, what a
+thrill shot through Derrick as he turned over the pages. But he would
+not take them into the sitting-room, no doubt dreading another diatribe
+against his profession; and we solemnly played euchre, and patiently
+endured the Major’s withering sarcasms till ten o’clock sounded our
+happy release.
+
+However, to make a long story short, a month later--that is, at the end
+of November--‘Lynwood’s Heritage’ was published in three volumes with
+maroon cloth and gilt lettering. Derrick had distributed among his
+friends the publishers’ announcement of the day of publication; and when
+it was out I besieged the libraries for it, always expressing surprise
+if I did not find it in their lists. Then began the time of reviews. As
+I had expected, they were extremely favourable, with the exception of
+the Herald, the Stroller, and the Hour, which made it rather hot for
+him, the latter in particular pitching into his views and assuring
+its readers that the book was ‘dangerous,’ and its author a believer
+in--various thing especially repugnant to Derrick, at it happened.
+
+I was with him when he read these reviews. Over the cleverness of the
+satirical attack in the Weekly Herald he laughed heartily, though
+the laugh was against himself; and as to the critic who wrote in the
+Stroller it was apparent to all who knew ‘Lynwood’ that he had not read
+much of the book; but over this review in the Hour he was genuinely
+angry--it hurt him personally, and, as it afterwards turned out, played
+no small part in the story of his life. The good reviews, however, were
+many, and their recommendation of the book hearty; they all prophesied
+that it would be a great success. Yet, spite of this, ‘Lynwood’s
+Heritage’ didn’t sell. Was it, as I had feared, that Derrick was too
+devoid of the pushing faculty ever to make a successful writer? Or was
+it that he was handicapped by being down in the provinces playing keeper
+to that abominable old bear? Anyhow, the book was well received, read
+with enthusiasm by an extremely small circle, and then it dropped down
+to the bottom among the mass of overlooked literature, and its career
+seemed to be over. I can recall the look in Derrick’s face when one day
+he glanced through the new Mudie and Smith lists and found ‘Lynwood’s
+Heritage’ no longer down. I had been trying to cheer him up about the
+book and quoting all the favourable remarks I had heard about it. But
+unluckily this was damning evidence against my optimist view.
+
+He sighed heavily and put down the lists.
+
+“It’s no use to deceive one’s self,” he said, drearily, “‘Lynwood’ has
+failed.”
+
+Something in the deep depression of look and tone gave me a momentary
+insight into the author’s heart. He thought, I know, of the agony of
+mind this book had cost him; of those long months of waiting and their
+deadly struggle, of the hopes which had made all he passed through seem
+so well worth while; and the bitterness of the disappointment was no
+doubt intensified by the knowledge that the Major would rejoice over it.
+
+We walked that afternoon along the Bradford Valley, a road which Derrick
+was specially fond of. He loved the thickly-wooded hills, and the
+glimpses of the Avon, which, flanked by the canal and the railway, runs
+parallel with the high road; he always admired, too, a certain little
+village with grey stone cottages which lay in this direction, and liked
+to look at the site of the old hall near the road: nothing remained of
+it but the tall gate posts and rusty iron gates looking strangely dreary
+and deserted, and within one could see, between some dark yew trees,
+an old terrace walk with stone steps and balustrades--the most
+ghostly-looking place you can conceive.
+
+“I know you’ll put this into a book some day,” I said, laughing.
+
+“Yes,” he said, “it is already beginning to simmer in my brain.”
+ Apparently his deep disappointment as to his first venture had in no way
+affected his perfectly clear consciousness that, come what would, he had
+to write.
+
+As we walked back to Bath he told me his ‘Ruined Hall’ story as far as
+it had yet evolved itself in his brain, and we were still discussing it
+when in Milsom Street we met a boy crying evening papers, and details of
+the last great battle at Saspataras Hill.
+
+Derrick broke off hastily, everything but anxiety for Lawrence driven
+from his mind.
+
+
+
+Chapter VI.
+
+     “Say not, O Soul, thou art defeated,
+        Because thou art distressed;
+      If thou of better thing art cheated,
+        Thou canst not be of best.”
+                               T. T. Lynch.
+
+“Good heavens, Sydney!” he exclaimed in great excitement and with his
+whole face aglow with pleasure, “look here!”
+
+He pointed to a few lines in the paper which mentioned the heroic
+conduct of Lieutenant L. Vaughan, who at the risk of his life had
+rescued a brother officer when surrounded by the enemy and completely
+disabled. Lieutenant Vaughan had managed to mount the wounded man on his
+own horse and had miraculously escaped himself with nothing worse than a
+sword-thrust in the left arm.
+
+We went home in triumph to the Major, and Derrick read the whole account
+aloud. With all his detestation of war, he was nevertheless greatly
+stirred by the description of the gallant defence of the attacked
+position--and for a time we were all at one, and could talk of nothing
+but Lawrence’s heroism, and Victoria Crosses, and the prospects of
+peace. However, all too soon, the Major’s fiendish temper returned,
+and he began to use the event of the day as a weapon against Derrick,
+continually taunting him with the contrast between his stay-at-home life
+of scribbling and Lawrence’s life of heroic adventure. I could never
+make out whether he wanted to goad his son into leaving him, in order
+that he might drink himself to death in peace, or whether he merely
+indulged in his natural love of tormenting, valuing Derrick’s devotion
+as conducive to his own comfort, and knowing that hard words would not
+drive him from what he deemed to be his duty. I rather incline to the
+latter view, but the old Major was always an enigma to me; nor can I
+to this day make out his raison-d’etre, except on the theory that the
+training of a novelist required a course of slow torture, and that the
+old man was sent into the world to be a sort of thorn in the flesh of
+Derrick.
+
+What with the disappointment about his first book, and the difficulty
+of writing his second, the fierce craving for Freda’s presence, the
+struggle not to allow his admiration for Lawrence’s bravery to become
+poisoned by envy under the influence of the Major’s incessant attacks,
+Derrick had just then a hard time of it. He never complained, but I
+noticed a great change in him; his melancholy increased, his flashes of
+humour and merriment became fewer and fewer--I began to be afraid that
+he would break down.
+
+“For God’s sake!” I exclaimed one evening when left alone with the
+Doctor after an evening of whist, “do order the Major to London. Derrick
+has been mewed up here with him for nearly two years, and I don’t think
+he can stand it much longer.”
+
+So the Doctor kindly contrived to advise the Major to consult a
+well-known London physician, and to spend a fortnight in town, further
+suggesting that a month at Ben Rhydding might be enjoyable before
+settling down at Bath again for the winter. Luckily the Major took to
+the idea, and just as Lawrence returned from the war Derrick and his
+father arrived in town. The change seemed likely to work well, and I was
+able now and then to release my friend and play cribbage with the old
+man for an hour or two while Derrick tore about London, interviewed his
+publisher, made researches into seventeenth century documents at the
+British Museum, and somehow managed in his rapid way to acquire those
+glimpses of life and character which he afterwards turned to such good
+account. All was grist that came to his mill, and at first the mere
+sight of his old home, London, seemed to revive him. Of course at the
+very first opportunity he called at the Probyns’, and we both of us had
+an invitation to go there on the following Wednesday to see the march
+past of the troops and to lunch. Derrick was nearly beside himself at
+the prospect, for he knew that he should certainly meet Freda at last,
+and the mingled pain and bliss of being actually in the same place with
+her, yet as completely separated as if seas rolled between them, was
+beginning to try him terribly.
+
+Meantime Lawrence had turned up again, greatly improved in every way by
+all that he had lived through, but rather too ready to fall in with
+his father’s tone towards Derrick. The relations between the two
+brothers--always a little peculiar--became more and more difficult, and
+the Major seemed to enjoy pitting them against each other.
+
+At length the day of the review arrived. Derrick was not looking well,
+his eyes were heavy with sleeplessness, and the Major had been unusually
+exasperating at breakfast that morning, so that he started with a jaded,
+worn-out feeling that would not wholly yield even to the excitement
+of this long-expected meeting with Freda. When he found himself in the
+great drawing-room at Lord Probyn’s house, amid a buzz of talk and a
+crowd of strange faces, he was seized with one of those sudden attacks
+of shyness to which he was always liable. In fact, he had been so long
+alone with the old Major that this plunge into society was too great a
+reaction, and the very thing he had longed for became a torture to him.
+
+Freda was at the other end of the room talking to Keith Collins, the
+well-known member for Codrington, whose curious but attractive face was
+known to all the world through the caricatures of it in ‘Punch.’ I knew
+that she saw Derrick, and that he instantly perceived her, and that a
+miserable sense of separation, of distance, of hopelessness overwhelmed
+him as he looked. After all, it was natural enough. For two years he
+had thought of Freda night and day; in his unutterably dreary life her
+memory had been his refreshment, his solace, his companion. Now he was
+suddenly brought face to face, not with the Freda of his dreams, but
+with a fashionable, beautifully dressed, much-sought girl, and he felt
+that a gulf lay between them; it was the gulf of experience. Freda’s
+life in society, the whirl of gaiety, the excitement and success which
+she had been enjoying throughout the season, and his miserable monotony
+of companionship with his invalid father, of hard work and weary
+disappointment, had broken down the bond of union that had once existed
+between them. From either side they looked at each other--Freda with a
+wondering perplexity, Derrick with a dull grinding pain at his heart.
+
+Of course they spoke to each other; but I fancy the merest platitudes
+passed between them. Somehow they had lost touch, and a crowded London
+drawing-room was hardly the place to regain it.
+
+“So your novel is really out,” I heard her say to him in that deep,
+clear voice of hers. “I like the design on the cover.”
+
+“Oh, have you read the book?” said Derrick, colouring.
+
+“Well, no,” she said truthfully. “I wanted to read it, but my father
+wouldn’t let me--he is very particular about what we read.”
+
+That frank but not very happily worded answer was like a stab to poor
+Derrick. He had given to the world then a book that was not fit for her
+to read! This ‘Lynwood,’ which had been written with his own heart’s
+blood, was counted a dangerous, poisonous thing, from which she must be
+guarded!
+
+Freda must have seen that she had hurt him, for she tried hard to
+retrieve her words.
+
+“It was tantalising to have it actually in the house, wasn’t it? I have
+a grudge against the Hour, for it was the review in that which set
+my father against it.” Then rather anxious to leave the difficult
+subject--“And has your brother quite recovered from his wound?”
+
+I think she was a little vexed that Derrick did not show more animation
+in his replies about Lawrence’s adventures during the war; the less he
+responded the more enthusiastic she became, and I am perfectly sure that
+in her heart she was thinking:
+
+“He is jealous of his brother’s fame--I am disappointed in him. He has
+grown dull, and absent, and stupid, and he is dreadfully wanting in
+small-talk. I fear that his life down in the provinces is turning him
+into a bear.”
+
+She brought the conversation back to his book; but there was a little
+touch of scorn in her voice, as if she thought to herself, “I suppose
+he is one of those people who can only talk on one subject--his own
+doings.” Her manner was almost brusque.
+
+“Your novel has had a great success, has it not?” she asked.
+
+He instantly perceived her thought, and replied with a touch of dignity
+and a proud smile:
+
+“On the contrary, it has been a great failure; only three hundred and
+nine copies have been sold.”
+
+“I wonder at that,” said Freda, “for one so often heard it talked of.”
+
+He promptly changed the topic, and began to speak of the march past. “I
+want to see Lord Starcross,” he added. “I have no idea what a hero is
+like.”
+
+Just then Lady Probyn came up, followed by an elderly harpy in
+spectacles and false, much-frizzed fringe.
+
+“Mrs. Carsteen wishes to be introduced to you, Mr. Vaughan; she is a
+great admirer of your writings.”
+
+And poor Derrick, who was then quite unused to the species, had to
+stand and receive a flood of the most fulsome flattery, delivered in
+a strident voice, and to bear the critical and prolonged stare of the
+spectacled eyes. Nor would the harpy easily release her prey. She kept
+him much against his will, and I saw him looking wistfully now and then
+towards Freda.
+
+“It amuses me,” I said to her, “that Derrick Vaughan should be so
+anxious to see Lord Starcross. It reminds me of Charles Lamb’s anxiety
+to see Kosciusko, ‘for,’ said he, ‘I have never seen a hero; I wonder
+how they look,’ while all the time he himself was living a life of
+heroic self-sacrifice.”
+
+“Mr. Vaughan, I should think, need only look at his own brother,” said
+Freda, missing the drift of my speech.
+
+I longed to tell her what it was possible to tell of Derrick’s life, but
+at that moment Sir Richard Merrifield introduced to his daughter a girl
+in a huge hat and great flopping sleeves, Miss Isaacson, whose picture
+at the Grosvenor had been so much talked of. Now the little artist knew
+no one in the room, and Freda saw fit to be extremely friendly to her.
+She was introduced to me, and I did my best to talk to her and set Freda
+at liberty as soon as the harpy had released Derrick; but my endeavours
+were frustrated, for Miss Isaacson, having looked me well over, decided
+that I was not at all intense, but a mere commonplace, slightly cynical
+worldling, and having exchanged a few lukewarm remarks with me, she
+returned to Freda, and stuck to her like a bur for the rest of the time.
+
+We stood out on the balcony to see the troops go by. It was a fine
+sight, and we all became highly enthusiastic. Freda enjoyed the mere
+pageant like a child, and was delighted with the horses. She looked now
+more like the Freda of the yacht, and I wished that Derrick could be
+near her; but, as ill-luck would have it, he was at some distance,
+hemmed in by an impassable barrier of eager spectators.
+
+Lawrence Vaughan rode past, looking wonderfully well in his uniform. He
+was riding a spirited bay, which took Freda’s fancy amazingly, though
+she reserved her chief enthusiasm for Lord Starcross and his steed. It
+was not until all was over, and we had returned to the drawing-room,
+that Derrick managed to get the talk with Freda for which I knew he
+was longing, and then they were fated, apparently, to disagree. I was
+standing near and overheard the close of their talk.
+
+“I do believe you must be a member of the Peace Society!” said Freda
+impatiently. “Or perhaps you have turned Quaker. But I want to introduce
+you to my god-father, Mr. Fleming; you know it was his son whom your
+brother saved.”
+
+And I heard Derrick being introduced as the brother of the hero of
+Saspataras Hill; and the next day he received a card for one of Mrs.
+Fleming’s receptions, Lawrence having previously been invited to dine
+there on the same night.
+
+What happened at that party I never exactly understood. All I could
+gather was that Lawrence had been tremendously feted, that Freda had
+been present, and that poor old Derrick was as miserable as he could be
+when I next saw him. Putting two and two together, I guessed that he had
+been tantalised by a mere sight of her, possibly tortured by watching
+more favoured men enjoying long tete-a-tetes; but he would say little or
+nothing about it, and when, soon after, he and the Major left London, I
+feared that the fortnight had done my friend harm instead of good.
+
+
+
+Chapter VII.
+
+     “Then in that hour rejoice, since only thus
+      Can thy proud heart grow wholly piteous.
+      Thus only to the world thy speech can flow
+      Charged with the sad authority of woe.
+      Since no man nurtured in the shade can sing
+      To a true note one psalm of conquering;
+      Warriors must chant it whom our own eyes see
+      Red from the battle and more bruised than we,
+      Men who have borne the worst, have known the whole,
+      Have felt the last abeyance of the soul.”
+                                      F. W. H. Myers.
+
+About the beginning of August, I rejoined him at Ben Rhydding. The place
+suited the Major admirably, and his various baths took up so great a
+part of each day, that Derrick had more time to himself than usual, and
+‘At Strife’ got on rapidly. He much enjoyed, too, the beautiful country
+round, while the hotel itself, with its huge gathering of all sorts and
+conditions of people, afforded him endless studies of character. The
+Major breakfasted in his own room, and, being so much engrossed with his
+baths, did not generally appear till twelve. Derrick and I breakfasted
+in the great dining-hall; and one morning, when the meal was over,
+we, as usual, strolled into the drawing-room to see if there were any
+letters awaiting us.
+
+“One for you,” I remarked, handing him a thick envelope.
+
+“From Lawrence!” he exclaimed.
+
+“Well, don’t read it in here; the Doctor will be coming to read prayers.
+Come out in the garden,” I said.
+
+We went out into the beautiful grounds, and he tore open the envelope
+and began to read his letter as we walked. All at once I felt the
+arm which was linked in mine give a quick, involuntary movement, and,
+looking up, saw that Derrick had turned deadly pale.
+
+“What’s up?” I said. But he read on without replying; and, when I paused
+and sat down on a sheltered rustic seat, he unconsciously followed my
+example, looking more like a sleep-walker than a man in the possession
+of all his faculties. At last he finished the letter, and looked up in a
+dazed, miserable way, letting his eyes wander over the fir-trees and the
+fragrant shrubs and the flowers by the path.
+
+“Dear old fellow, what is the matter?” I asked.
+
+The words seemed to rouse him.
+
+A dreadful look passed over his face--the look of one stricken to
+the heart. But his voice was perfectly calm, and full of a ghastly
+self-control.
+
+“Freda will be my sister-in-law,” he said, rather as if stating the fact
+to himself than answering my question.
+
+“Impossible!” I said. “What do you mean? How could--”
+
+As if to silence me he thrust the letter into my hand. It ran as
+follows:
+
+“Dear Derrick,--For the last few days I have been down in the Flemings’
+place in Derbyshire, and fortune has favoured me, for the Merrifields
+are here too. Now prepare yourself for a surprise. Break the news to the
+governor, and send me your heartiest congratulations by return of post.
+I am engaged to Freda Merrifield, and am the happiest fellow in the
+world. They are awfully fastidious sort of people, and I do not believe
+Sir Richard would have consented to such a match had it not been for
+that lucky impulse which made me rescue Dick Fleming. It has all been
+arranged very quickly, as these things should be, but we have seen a
+good deal of each other--first at Aldershot the year before last, and
+just lately in town, and now these four days down here--and days in a
+country house are equal to weeks elsewhere. I enclose a letter to my
+father--give it to him at a suitable moment--but, after all, he’s sure
+to approve of a daughter-in-law with such a dowry as Miss Merrifield is
+likely to have.
+
+“Yours affly.,
+
+“Lawrence Vaughan.”
+
+
+I gave him back the letter without a word. In dead silence we moved on,
+took a turning which led to a little narrow gate, and passed out of the
+grounds to the wild moorland country beyond.
+
+After all, Freda was in no way to blame. As a mere girl she had allowed
+Derrick to see that she cared for him; then circumstances had entirely
+separated them; she saw more of the world, met Lawrence, was perhaps
+first attracted to him by his very likeness to Derrick, and finally fell
+in love with the hero of the season, whom every one delighted to honour.
+Nor could one blame Lawrence, who had no notion that he had supplanted
+his brother. All the blame lay with the Major’s slavery to drink, for
+if only he had remained out in India I feel sure that matters would have
+gone quite differently.
+
+We tramped on over heather and ling and springy turf till we reached the
+old ruin known as the Hunting Tower; then Derrick seemed to awake to the
+recollection of present things. He looked at his watch.
+
+“I must go back to my father,” he said, for the first time breaking the
+silence.
+
+“You shall do no such thing!” I cried. “Stay out here and I will see to
+the Major, and give him the letter too if you like.”
+
+He caught at the suggestion, and as he thanked me I think there were
+tears in his eyes. So I took the letter and set off for Ben Rhydding,
+leaving him to get what relief he could from solitude, space, and
+absolute quiet. Once I just glanced back, and somehow the scene has
+always lingered in my memory--the great stretch of desolate moor, the
+dull crimson of the heather, the lowering grey clouds, the Hunting Tower
+a patch of deeper gloom against the gloomy sky, and Derrick’s figure
+prostrate, on the turf, the face hidden, the hands grasping at the
+sprigs of heather growing near.
+
+The Major was just ready to be helped into the garden when I reached
+the hotel. We sat down in the very same place where Derrick had read
+the news, and, when I judged it politic, I suddenly remembered with
+apologies the letter that had been entrusted to me. The old man received
+it with satisfaction, for he was fond of Lawrence and proud of him, and
+the news of the engagement pleased him greatly. He was still discussing
+it when, two hours later, Derrick returned.
+
+“Here’s good news!” said the Major, glancing up as his son approached.
+“Trust Lawrence to fall on his feet! He tells me the girl will have a
+thousand a year. You know her, don’t you? What’s she like?”
+
+“I have met her,” replied Derrick, with forced composure. “She is very
+charming.”
+
+“Lawrence has all his wits about him,” growled the Major. “Whereas
+you--” (several oaths interjected). “It will be a long while before any
+girl with a dowry will look at you! What women like is a bold man of
+action; what they despise, mere dabblers in pen and ink, writers
+of poisonous sensational tales such as yours! I’m quoting your own
+reviewers, so you needn’t contradict me!”
+
+Of course no one had dreamt of contradicting; it would have been the
+worst possible policy.
+
+“Shall I help you in?” said Derrick. “It is just dinner time.”
+
+And as I walked beside them to the hotel, listening to the Major’s
+flood of irritating words, and glancing now and then at Derrick’s
+grave, resolute face, which successfully masked such bitter suffering, I
+couldn’t help reflecting that here was courage infinitely more deserving
+of the Victoria Cross than Lawrence’s impulsive rescue. Very patiently
+he sat through the long dinner. I doubt if any but an acute observer
+could have told that he was in trouble; and, luckily, the world in
+general observes hardly at all. He endured the Major till it was time
+for him to take a Turkish bath, and then having two hours’ freedom,
+climbed with me up the rock-covered hill at the back of the hotel. He
+was very silent. But I remember that, as we watched the sun go down--a
+glowing crimson ball, half veiled in grey mist--he said abruptly, “If
+Lawrence makes her happy I can bear it. And of course I always knew that
+I was not worthy of her.”
+
+Derrick’s room was a large, gaunt, ghostly place in one of the towers
+of the hotel, and in one corner of it was a winding stair leading to the
+roof. When I went in next morning I found him writing away at his novel
+just as usual, but when I looked at him it seemed to me that the night
+had aged him fearfully. As a rule, he took interruptions as a matter
+of course, and with perfect sweetness of temper; but to-day he seemed
+unable to drag himself back to the outer world. He was writing at a
+desperate pace too, and frowned when I spoke to him. I took up the sheet
+of foolscap which he had just finished and glanced at the number of the
+page--evidently he had written an immense quantity since the previous
+day.
+
+“You will knock yourself up if you go on at this rate!” I exclaimed.
+
+“Nonsense!” he said sharply. “You know it never tires me.”
+
+Yet, all the same, he passed his hand very wearily over his forehead,
+and stretched himself with the air of one who had been in a cramping
+position for many hours.
+
+“You have broken your vow!” I cried. “You have been writing at night.”
+
+“No,” he said; “it was morning when I began--three o’clock. And it pays
+better to get up and write than to lie awake thinking.”
+
+Judging by the speed with which the novel grew in the next few weeks, I
+could tell that Derrick’s nights were of the worst.
+
+He began, too, to look very thin and haggard, and I more than once
+noticed that curious ‘sleep-walking’ expression in his eyes; he seemed
+to me just like a man who has received his death-blow, yet still
+lingers--half alive, half dead. I had an odd feeling that it was his
+novel which kept him going, and I began to wonder what would happen when
+it was finished.
+
+A month later, when I met him again at Bath, he had written the last
+chapter of ‘At Strife,’ and we read it over the sitting-room fire on
+Saturday evening. I was very much struck with the book; it seemed to
+me a great advance on ‘Lynwood’s Heritage,’ and the part which he had
+written since that day at Ben Rhydding was full of an indescribable
+power, as if the life of which he had been robbed had flowed into his
+work. When he had done, he tied up the MS. in his usual prosaic fashion,
+just as if it had been a bundle of clothes, and put it on a side table.
+
+It was arranged that I should take it to Davison--the publisher of
+‘Lynwood’s Heritage’--on Monday, and see what offer he would make for
+it. Just at that time I felt so sorry for Derrick that if he had asked
+me to hawk round fifty novels I would have done it.
+
+Sunday morning proved wet and dismal; as a rule the Major, who was fond
+of music, attended service at the Abbey, but the weather forced him now
+to stay at home. I myself was at that time no church-goer, but Derrick
+would, I verily believe, as soon have fasted a week as have given up
+a Sunday morning service; and having no mind to be left to the Major’s
+company, and a sort of wish to be near my friend, I went with him. I
+believe it is not correct to admire Bath Abbey, but for all that ‘the
+lantern of the west’ has always seemed to me a grand place; as for
+Derrick, he had a horror of a ‘dim religious light,’ and always stuck
+up for his huge windows, and I believe he loved the Abbey with all his
+heart. Indeed, taking it only from a sensuous point of view, I could
+quite imagine what a relief he found his weekly attendance here; by
+contrast with his home the place was Heaven itself.
+
+As we walked back, I asked a question that had long been in my mind:
+“Have you seen anything of Lawrence?”
+
+“He saw us across London on our way from Ben Rhydding,” said Derrick,
+steadily. “Freda came with him, and my father was delighted with her.”
+
+I wondered how they had got through the meeting, but of course my
+curiosity had to go unsatisfied. Of one thing I might be certain,
+namely, that Derrick had gone through with it like a Trojan, that he
+had smiled and congratulated in his quiet way, and had done the best to
+efface himself and think only of Freda. But as everyone knows:
+
+     “Face joy’s a costly mask to wear,
+      ‘Tis bought with pangs long nourished
+      And rounded to despair;”
+
+and he looked now even more worn and old than he had done at Ben
+Rhydding in the first days of his trouble.
+
+However, he turned resolutely away from the subject I had introduced and
+began to discuss titles for his novel.
+
+“It’s impossible to find anything new,” he said, “absolutely impossible.
+I declare I shall take to numbers.”
+
+I laughed at this prosaic notion, and we were still discussing the title
+when we reached home.
+
+“Don’t say anything about it at lunch,” he said as we entered. “My
+father detests my writing.”
+
+I nodded assent and opened the sitting-room door--a strong smell of
+brandy instantly became apparent; the Major sat in the green velvet
+chair, which had been wheeled close to the hearth. He was drunk.
+
+Derrick gave an ejaculation of utter hopelessness.
+
+“This will undo all the good of Ben Rhydding!” he said. “How on earth
+has he managed to get it?”
+
+The Major, however, was not so far gone as he looked; he caught up the
+remark and turned towards us with a hideous laugh.
+
+“Ah, yes,” he said, “that’s the question. But the old man has still some
+brains, you see. I’ll be even with you yet, Derrick. You needn’t think
+you’re to have it all your own way. It’s my turn now. You’ve deprived me
+all this time of the only thing I care for in life, and now I turn the
+tables on you. Tit for tat. Oh! yes, I’ve turned your d----d scribblings
+to a useful purpose, so you needn’t complain!”
+
+All this had been shouted out at the top of his voice and freely
+interlarded with expressions which I will not repeat; at the end he
+broke again into a laugh, and with a look, half idiotic, half devilish,
+pointed towards the grate.
+
+“Good Heavens!” I said, “what have you done?”
+
+By the side of the chair I saw a piece of brown paper, and, catching
+it up, read the address--“Messrs. Davison, Paternoster Row”; in the
+fireplace was a huge charred mass. Derrick caught his breath; he stooped
+down and snatched from the fender a fragment of paper slightly burned,
+but still not charred beyond recognition like the rest. The writing was
+quite legible--it was his own writing--the description of the Royalists’
+attack and Paul Wharncliffe’s defence of the bridge. I looked from the
+half-burnt scrap of paper to the side table where, only the previous
+night, we had placed the novel, and then, realising as far as any but an
+author could realise the frightful thing that had happened, I looked in
+Derrick’s face. Its white fury appalled me. What he had borne hitherto
+from the Major, God only knows, but this was the last drop in the cup.
+Daily insults, ceaseless provocation, even the humiliations of personal
+violence he had borne with superhuman patience; but this last injury,
+this wantonly cruel outrage, this deliberate destruction of an amount of
+thought, and labour, and suffering which only the writer himself could
+fully estimate--this was intolerable.
+
+What might have happened had the Major been sober and in the possession
+of ordinary physical strength I hardly care to think. As it was, his
+weakness protected him. Derrick’s wrath was speechless; with one look
+of loathing and contempt at the drunken man, he strode out of the room,
+caught up his hat, and hurried from the house.
+
+The Major sat chuckling to himself for a minute or two, but soon he grew
+drowsy, and before long was snoring like a grampus. The old landlady
+brought in lunch, saw the state of things pretty quickly, shook her head
+and commiserated Derrick. Then, when she had left the room, seeing no
+prospect that either of my companions would be in a fit state for lunch,
+I made a solitary meal, and had just finished when a cab stopped at the
+door and out sprang Derrick. I went into the passage to meet him.
+
+“The Major is asleep,” I remarked.
+
+He took no more notice than if I had spoken of the cat.
+
+“I’m going to London,” he said, making for the stairs. “Can you get your
+bag ready? There’s a train at 2.5.”
+
+Somehow the suddenness and the self-control with which he made this
+announcement carried me back to the hotel at Southampton, where, after
+listening to the account of the ship’s doctor, he had announced his
+intention of living with his father. For more than two years he had
+borne this awful life; he had lost pretty nearly all that there was
+to be lost and he had gained the Major’s vindictive hatred. Now, half
+maddened by pain, and having, as he thought, so hopelessly failed, he
+saw nothing for it but to go--and that at once.
+
+I packed my bag, and then went to help him. He was cramming all his
+possessions into portmanteaux and boxes; the Hoffman was already packed,
+and the wall looked curiously bare without it. Clearly this was no visit
+to London--he was leaving Bath for good, and who could wonder at it?
+
+“I have arranged for the attendant from the hospital to come in at night
+as well as in the morning,” he said, as he locked a portmanteau that was
+stuffed almost to bursting. “What’s the time? We must make haste or we
+shall lose the train. Do, like a good fellow, cram that heap of things
+into the carpet-bag while I speak to the landlady.”
+
+At last we were off, rattling through the quiet streets of Bath, and
+reaching the station barely in time to rush up the long flight of stairs
+and spring into an empty carriage. Never shall I forget that journey.
+The train stopped at every single station, and sometimes in between; we
+were five mortal hours on the road, and more than once I thought Derrick
+would have fainted. However, he was not of the fainting order, he only
+grew more and more ghastly in colour and rigid in expression.
+
+I felt very anxious about him, for the shock and the sudden anger
+following on the trouble about Freda seemed to me enough to unhinge even
+a less sensitive nature. ‘At Strife’ was the novel which had, I firmly
+believe, kept him alive through that awful time at Ben Rhydding, and
+I began to fear that the Major’s fit of drunken malice might prove the
+destruction of the author as well as of the book. Everything had, as it
+were, come at once on poor Derrick; yet I don’t know that he fared worse
+than other people in this respect.
+
+Life, unfortunately, is for most of us no well-arranged story with a
+happy termination; it is a chequered affair of shade and sun, and for
+one beam of light there come very often wide patches of shadow. Men
+seem to have known this so far back as Shakespeare’s time, and to have
+observed that one woe trod on another’s heels, to have battled not with
+a single wave, but with a ‘sea of troubles,’ and to have remarked that
+‘sorrows come not singly, but in battalions.’
+
+However, owing I believe chiefly to his own self-command, and to his
+untiring faculty for taking infinite pains over his work, Derrick did
+not break down, but pleasantly cheated my expectations. I was not called
+on to nurse him through a fever, and consumption did not mark him
+for her own. In fact, in the matter of illness, he was always a most
+prosaic, unromantic fellow, and never indulged in any of the euphonious
+and interesting ailments. In all his life, I believe, he never went
+in for anything but the mumps--of all complaints the least
+interesting--and, may be, an occasional headache.
+
+However, all this is a digression. We at length reached London,
+and Derrick took a room above mine, now and then disturbing me with
+nocturnal pacings over the creaking boards, but, on the whole, proving
+himself the best of companions.
+
+If I wrote till Doomsday, I could never make you understand how the
+burning of his novel affected him--to this day it is a subject I
+instinctively avoid with him--though the re-written ‘At Strife’ has been
+such a grand success. For he did re-write the story, and that at once.
+He said little; but the very next morning, in one of the windows of
+our quiet sitting-room, often enough looking despairingly at the grey
+monotony of Montague Street, he began at ‘Page I, Chapter I,’ and so
+worked patiently on for many months to re-make as far as he could
+what his drunken father had maliciously destroyed. Beyond the unburnt
+paragraph about the attack on Mondisfield, he had nothing except a
+few hastily scribbled ideas in his note-book, and of course the very
+elaborate and careful historical notes which he had made on the Civil
+War during many years of reading and research--for this period had
+always been a favourite study with him.
+
+But, as any author will understand, the effort of re-writing was
+immense, and this, combined with all the other troubles, tried Derrick
+to the utmost. However, he toiled on, and I have always thought that his
+resolute, unyielding conduct with regard to that book proved what a man
+he was.
+
+
+
+Chapter VIII.
+
+     “How oft Fate’s sharpest blow shall leave thee strong,
+      With some re-risen ecstacy of song.”
+                                          F. W. H. Myers.
+
+As the autumn wore on, we heard now and then from old Mackrill the
+doctor. His reports of the Major were pretty uniform. Derrick used to
+hand them over to me when he had read them; but, by tacit consent, the
+Major’s name was never mentioned.
+
+Meantime, besides re-writing ‘At Strife,’ he was accumulating material
+for his next book and working to very good purpose. Not a minute of his
+day was idle; he read much, saw various phases of life hitherto unknown
+to him, studied, observed, gained experience, and contrived, I believe,
+to think very little and very guardedly of Freda.
+
+But, on Christmas Eve, I noticed a change in him--and that very night
+he spoke to me. For such an impressionable fellow, he had really
+extraordinary tenacity, and, spite of the course of Herbert Spencer that
+I had put him through, he retained his unshaken faith in many things
+which to me were at that time the merest legends. I remember very well
+the arguments we used to have on the vexed question of ‘Free-will,’
+and being myself more or less of a fatalist, it annoyed me that I never
+could in the very slightest degree shake his convictions on that point.
+Moreover, when I plagued him too much with Herbert Spencer, he had a way
+of retaliating, and would foist upon me his favourite authors. He was
+never a worshipper of any one writer, but always had at least a dozen
+prophets in whose praise he was enthusiastic.
+
+Well, on this Christmas Eve, we had been to see dear old Ravenscroft and
+his grand-daughter, and we were walking back through the quiet precincts
+of the Temple, when he said abruptly:
+
+“I have decided to go back to Bath to-morrow.”
+
+“Have you had a worse account?” I asked, much startled at this sudden
+announcement.
+
+“No,” he replied, “but the one I had a week ago was far from good if you
+remember, and I have a feeling that I ought to be there.”
+
+At that moment we emerged into the confusion of Fleet Street; but when
+we had crossed the road I began to remonstrate with him, and argued the
+folly of the idea all the way down Chancery Lane.
+
+However, there was no shaking his purpose; Christmas and its
+associations had made his life in town no longer possible for him.
+
+“I must at any rate try it again and see how it works,” he said.
+
+And all I could do was to persuade him to leave the bulk of his
+possessions in London, “in case,” as he remarked, “the Major would not
+have him.”
+
+So the next day I was left to myself again with nothing to remind me
+of Derrick’s stay but his pictures which still hung on the wall of our
+sitting-room. I made him promise to write a full, true, and particular
+account of his return, a bona-fide old-fashioned letter, not the
+half-dozen lines of these degenerate days; and about a week later I
+received the following budget:
+
+“Dear Sydney,--I got down to Bath all right, and, thanks to your ‘Study
+of Sociology,’ endured a slow, and cold, and dull, and depressing
+journey with the thermometer down to zero, and spirits to correspond,
+with the country a monotonous white, and the sky a monotonous grey,
+and a companion who smoked the vilest tobacco you can conceive. The old
+place looks as beautiful as ever, and to my great satisfaction the hills
+round about are green. Snow, save in pictures, is an abomination.
+Milsom Street looked asleep, and Gay Street decidedly dreary, but the
+inhabitants were roused by my knock, and the old landlady nearly shook
+my hand off. My father has an attack of jaundice and is in a miserable
+state. He was asleep when I got here, and the good old landlady,
+thinking the front sitting-room would be free, had invited ‘company,’
+i.e., two or three married daughters and their belongings; one of the
+children beats Magnay’s ‘Carina’ as to beauty--he ought to paint her.
+Happy thought, send him and pretty Mrs. Esperance down here on spec. He
+can paint the child for the next Academy, and meantime I could enjoy his
+company. Well, all these good folks being just set-to at roast beef, I
+naturally wouldn’t hear of disturbing them, and in the end was obliged
+to sit down too and eat at that hour of the day the hugest dinner
+you ever saw--anything but voracious appetites offended the hostess.
+Magnay’s future model, for all its angelic face, ‘ate to repletion,’
+like the fair American in the story. Then I went into my father’s
+room, and shortly after he woke up and asked me to give him some
+Friedrichshall water, making no comment at all on my return, but just
+behaving as though I had been here all the autumn, so that I felt as if
+the whole affair were a dream. Except for this attack of jaundice, he
+has been much as usual, and when you next come down you will find
+us settled into our old groove. The quiet of it after London is
+extraordinary. But I believe it suits the book, which gets on pretty
+fast. This afternoon I went up Lansdowne and right on past the
+Grand Stand to Prospect Stile, which is at the edge of a high bit
+of tableland, and looks over a splendid stretch of country, with the
+Bristol Channel and the Welsh hills in the distance. While I was there
+the sun most considerately set in gorgeous array. You never saw anything
+like it. It was worth the journey from London to Bath, I can assure
+you. Tell Magnay, and may it lure him down; also name the model
+aforementioned.
+
+“How is the old Q.C. and his pretty grandchild? That quaint old room of
+theirs in the Temple somehow took my fancy, and the child was divine. Do
+you remember my showing you, in a gloomy narrow street here, a jolly old
+watchmaker who sits in his shop-window and is for ever bending over sick
+clocks and watches? Well, he’s still sitting there, as if he had never
+moved since we saw him that Saturday months ago. I mean to study him for
+a portrait; his sallow, clean-shaved, wrinkled face has a whole story
+in it. I believe he is married to a Xantippe who throws cold water over
+him, both literally and metaphorically; but he is a philosopher--I’ll
+stake my reputation as an observer on that--he just shrugs his sturdy
+old shoulders, and goes on mending clocks and watches. On dark days he
+works by a gas jet--and then Rembrandt would enjoy painting him. I
+look at him whenever my world is particularly awry, and find him highly
+beneficial. Davison has forwarded me to-day two letters from readers of
+‘Lynwood.’ The first is from an irate female who takes me to task for
+the dangerous tendency of the story, and insists that I have drawn
+impossible circumstances and impossible characters. The second is from
+an old clergyman, who writes a pathetic letter of thanks, and tells me
+that it is almost word for word the story of a son of his who died five
+years ago. Query: shall I send the irate female the old man’s letter,
+and save myself the trouble of writing? But on the whole I think not;
+it would be pearls before swine. I will write to her myself. Glad to see
+you whenever you can run down.
+
+“Yours ever,
+
+“D. V.”
+
+(“Never struck me before what pious initials mine are.”)
+
+
+The very evening I received this letter I happened to be dining at the
+Probyn’s. As luck would have it, pretty Miss Freda was staying in the
+house, and she fell to my share. I always liked her, though of late I
+had felt rather angry with her for being carried away by the general
+storm of admiration and swept by it into an engagement with Lawrence
+Vaughan. She was a very pleasant, natural sort of talker, and she always
+treated me as an old friend. But she seemed to me, that night, a little
+less satisfied than usual with life. Perhaps it was merely the effect
+of the black lace dress which she wore, but I fancied her paler and
+thinner, and somehow she seemed all eyes.
+
+“Where is Lawrence now?” I asked, as we went down to the dining-room.
+
+“He is stationed at Dover,” she replied. “He was up here for a few hours
+yesterday; he came to say good-bye to me, for I am going to Bath next
+Monday with my father, who has been very rheumatic lately--and you know
+Bath is coming into fashion again, all the doctors recommend it.”
+
+“Major Vaughan is there,” I said, “and has found the waters very good, I
+believe; any day, at twelve o’clock, you may see him getting out of his
+chair and going into the Pump Room on Derrick’s arm. I often wonder
+what outsiders think of them. It isn’t often, is it, that one sees a son
+absolutely giving up his life to his invalid father?”
+
+She looked a little startled.
+
+“I wish Lawrence could be more with Major Vaughan,” she said; “for he
+is his father’s favourite. You see he is such a good talker, and
+Derrick--well, he is absorbed in his books; and then he has such
+extravagant notions about war, he must be a very uncongenial companion
+to the poor Major.”
+
+I devoured turbot in wrathful silence. Freda glanced at me.
+
+“It is true, isn’t it, that he has quite given up his life to writing,
+and cares for nothing else?”
+
+“Well, he has deliberately sacrificed his best chance of success by
+leaving London and burying himself in the provinces,” I replied drily;
+“and as to caring for nothing but writing, why he never gets more than
+two or three hours a day for it.” And then I gave her a minute account
+of his daily routine.
+
+She began to look troubled.
+
+“I have been misled,” she said; “I had gained quite a wrong impression
+of him.”
+
+“Very few people know anything at all about him,” I said warmly; “you
+are not alone in that.”
+
+“I suppose his next novel is finished now?” said Freda; “he told me he
+had only one or two more chapters to write when I saw him a few months
+ago on his way from Ben Rhydding. What is he writing now?”
+
+“He is writing that novel over again,” I replied.
+
+“Over again? What fearful waste of time!”
+
+“Yes, it has cost him hundreds of hours’ work; it just shows what a man
+he is, that he has gone through with it so bravely.”
+
+“But how do you mean? Didn’t it do?”
+
+Rashly, perhaps, yet I think unavoidably, I told her the truth.
+
+“It was the best thing he had ever written, but unfortunately it was
+destroyed, burnt to a cinder. That was not very pleasant, was it, for a
+man who never makes two copies of his work?”
+
+“It was frightful!” said Freda, her eyes dilating. “I never heard a word
+about it. Does Lawrence know?”
+
+“No, he does not; and perhaps I ought not to have told you, but I was
+annoyed at your so misunderstanding Derrick. Pray never mention the
+affair; he would wish it kept perfectly quiet.”
+
+“Why?” asked Freda, turning her clear eyes full upon mine.
+
+“Because,” I said, lowering my voice, “because his father burnt it.”
+
+She almost gasped.
+
+“Deliberately?”
+
+“Yes, deliberately,” I replied. “His illness has affected his temper,
+and he is sometimes hardly responsible for his actions.”
+
+“Oh, I knew that he was irritable and hasty, and that Derrick annoyed
+him. Lawrence told me that, long ago,” said Freda. “But that he should
+have done such a thing as that! It is horrible! Poor Derrick, how sorry
+I am for him. I hope we shall see something of them at Bath. Do you know
+how the Major is?”
+
+“I had a letter about him from Derrick only this evening,” I replied;
+“if you care to see it, I will show it you later on.”
+
+And by-and-by, in the drawing-room, I put Derrick’s letter into her
+hands, and explained to her how for a few months he had given up his
+life at Bath, in despair, but now had returned.
+
+“I don’t think Lawrence can understand the state of things,” she said
+wistfully. “And yet he has been down there.”
+
+I made no reply, and Freda, with a sigh, turned away.
+
+A month later I went down to Bath and found, as my friend foretold,
+everything going on in the old groove, except that Derrick himself had
+an odd, strained look about him, as if he were fighting a foe beyond
+his strength. Freda’s arrival at Bath had been very hard on him, it
+was almost more than he could endure. Sir Richard, blind as a bat, of
+course, to anything below the surface, made a point of seeing something
+of Lawrence’s brother. And on the day of my arrival Derrick and I had
+hardly set out for a walk, when we ran across the old man.
+
+Sir Richard, though rheumatic in the wrists, was nimble of foot and an
+inveterate walker. He was going with his daughter to see over Beckford’s
+Tower, and invited us to accompany him. Derrick, much against the grain,
+I fancy, had to talk to Freda, who, in her winter furs and close-fitting
+velvet hat, looked more fascinating than ever, while the old man
+descanted to me on Bath waters, antiquities, etc., in a long-winded
+way that lasted all up the hill. We made our way into the cemetery and
+mounted the tower stairs, thinking of the past when this dreary place
+had been so gorgeously furnished. Here Derrick contrived to get ahead
+with Sir Richard, and Freda lingered in a sort of alcove with me.
+
+“I have been so wanting to see you,” she said, in an agitated voice.
+“Oh, Mr. Wharncliffe, is it true what I have heard about the Major? Does
+he drink?”
+
+“Who told you?” I said, a little embarrassed.
+
+“It was our landlady,” said Freda; “she is the daughter of the Major’s
+landlady. And you should hear what she says of Derrick! Why, he must
+be a downright hero! All the time I have been half despising him”--she
+choked back a sob--“he has been trying to save his father from what was
+certain death to him--so they told me. Do you think it is true?”
+
+“I know it is,” I replied gravely.
+
+“And about his arm--was that true?”
+
+I signed an assent.
+
+Her grey eyes grew moist.
+
+“Oh,” she cried, “how I have been deceived and how little Lawrence
+appreciates him! I think he must know that I’ve misjudged him, for he
+seems so odd and shy, and I don’t think he likes to talk to me.”
+
+I looked searchingly into her truthful grey eyes, thinking of poor
+Derrick’s unlucky love-story.
+
+“You do not understand him,” I said; “and perhaps it is best so.”
+
+But the words and the look were rash, for all at once the colour flooded
+her face. She turned quickly away, conscious at last that the midsummer
+dream of those yachting days had to Derrick been no dream at all, but a
+life-long reality.
+
+I felt very sorry for Freda, for she was not at all the sort of girl who
+would glory in having a fellow hopelessly in love with her. I knew that
+the discovery she had made would be nothing but a sorrow to her, and
+could guess how she would reproach herself for that innocent past fancy,
+which, till now, had seemed to her so faint and far-away--almost as
+something belonging to another life. All at once we heard the others
+descending, and she turned to me with such a frightened, appealing look,
+that I could not possibly have helped going to the rescue. I plunged
+abruptly into a discourse on Beckford, and told her how he used to keep
+diamonds in a tea-cup, and amused himself by arranging them on a piece
+of velvet. Sir Richard fled from the sound of my prosy voice, and,
+needless to say, Derrick followed him. We let them get well in advance
+and then followed, Freda silent and distraite, but every now and then
+asking a question about the Major.
+
+As for Derrick, evidently he was on guard. He saw a good deal of the
+Merrifields and was sedulously attentive to them in many small ways;
+but with Freda he was curiously reserved, and if by chance they did
+talk together, he took good care to bring Lawrence’s name into the
+conversation. On the whole, I believe loyalty was his strongest
+characteristic, and want of loyalty in others tried him more severely
+than anything in the world.
+
+As the spring wore on, it became evident to everyone that the Major
+could not last long. His son’s watchfulness and the enforced temperance
+which the doctors insisted on had prolonged his life to a certain
+extent, but gradually his sufferings increased and his strength
+diminished. At last he kept his bed altogether.
+
+What Derrick bore at this time no one can ever know. When, one bright
+sunshiny Saturday, I went down to see how he was getting on, I found him
+worn and haggard, too evidently paying the penalty of sleepless nights
+and thankless care. I was a little shocked to hear that Lawrence had
+been summoned, but when I was taken into the sick room I realised that
+they had done wisely to send for the favourite son.
+
+The Major was evidently dying.
+
+Never can I forget the cruelty and malevolence with which his bloodshot
+eyes rested on Derrick, or the patience with which the dear old fellow
+bore his father’s scathing sarcasms. It was while I was sitting by
+the bed that the landlady entered with a telegram, which she put into
+Derrick’s hand.
+
+“From Lawrence!” said the dying man triumphantly, “to say by what train
+we may expect him. Well?” as Derrick still read the message to himself,
+“can’t you speak, you d--d idiot? Have you lost your d--d tongue? What
+does he say?”
+
+“I am afraid he cannot be here just yet,” said Derrick, trying to tone
+down the curt message; “it seems he cannot get leave.”
+
+“Not get leave to see his dying father? What confounded nonsense. Give
+me the thing here;” and he snatched the telegram from Derrick and read
+it in a quavering, hoarse voice:
+
+“Impossible to get away. Am hopelessly tied here. Love to my father.
+Greatly regret to hear such bad news of him.”
+
+I think that message made the old man realise the worth of Lawrence’s
+often expressed affection for him. Clearly it was a great blow to him.
+He threw down the paper without a word and closed his eyes. For half an
+hour he lay like that, and we did not disturb him. At last he looked up;
+his voice was fainter and his manner more gentle.
+
+“Derrick,” he said, “I believe I’ve done you an injustice; it is you
+who cared for me, not Lawrence, and I’ve struck your name out of my
+will--have left all to him. After all, though you are one of those
+confounded novelists, you’ve done what you could for me. Let some one
+fetch a solicitor--I’ll alter it--I’ll alter it!”
+
+I instantly hurried out to fetch a lawyer, but it was Saturday
+afternoon, the offices were closed, and some time passed before I had
+caught my man. I told him as we hastened back some of the facts of the
+case, and he brought his writing materials into the sick room and took
+down from the Major’s own lips the words which would have the effect of
+dividing the old man’s possessions between his two sons. Dr. Mackrill
+was now present; he stood on one side of the bed, his fingers on the
+dying man’s pulse. On the other side stood Derrick, a degree paler and
+graver than usual, but revealing little of his real feelings.
+
+“Word it as briefly as you can,” said the doctor.
+
+And the lawyer scribbled away as though for his life, while the rest
+of us waited in a wretched hushed state of tension. In the room itself
+there was no sound save the scratching of the pen and the laboured
+breathing of the old man; but in the next house we could hear someone
+playing a waltz. Somehow it did not seem to me incongruous, for it was
+‘Sweethearts,’ and that had been the favourite waltz of Ben Rhydding,
+so that I always connected it with Derrick and his trouble, and now the
+words rang in my ears:
+
+     “Oh, love for a year, a week, a day,
+      But alas! for the love that loves alway.”
+
+If it had not been for the Major’s return from India, I firmly believed
+that Derrick and Freda would by this time have been betrothed. Derrick
+had taken a line which necessarily divided them, had done what he saw to
+be his duty; yet what were the results? He had lost Freda, he had lost
+his book, he had damaged his chance of success as a writer, he had been
+struck out of his father’s will, and he had suffered unspeakably. Had
+anything whatever been gained? The Major was dying unrepentant to all
+appearance, as hard and cynical an old worldling as I ever saw. The only
+spark of grace he showed was that tardy endeavour to make a fresh will.
+What good had it all been? What good?
+
+I could not answer the question then, could only cry out in a sort of
+indignation, “What profit is there in his blood?” But looking at it
+now, I have a sort of perception that the very lack of apparent
+profitableness was part of Derrick’s training, while if, as I now
+incline to think, there is a hereafter where the training begun here is
+continued, the old Major in the hell he most richly deserved would have
+the remembrance of his son’s patience and constancy and devotion to
+serve as a guiding light in the outer darkness.
+
+The lawyer no longer wrote at railroad speed; he pushed back his chair,
+brought the will to the bed, and placed the pen in the trembling yellow
+hand of the invalid.
+
+“You must sign your name here,” he said, pointing with his finger; and
+the Major raised himself a little, and brought the pen quaveringly
+down towards the paper. With a sort of fascination I watched the
+finely-pointed steel nib; it trembled for an instant or two, then the
+pen dropped from the convulsed fingers, and with a cry of intolerable
+anguish the Major fell back.
+
+For some minutes there was a painful struggle; presently we caught a
+word or two between the groans of the dying man.
+
+“Too late!” he gasped, “too late!” And then a dreadful vision of horrors
+seemed to rise before him, and with a terror that I can never forget
+he turned to his son and clutched fast hold of his hands: “Derrick!” he
+shrieked.
+
+Derrick could not speak, but he bent low over the bed as though to
+screen the dying eyes from those horrible visions, and with an odd sort
+of thrill I saw him embrace his father.
+
+When he raised his head the terror had died out of the Major’s face; all
+was over.
+
+
+
+Chapter IX.
+
+     “To duty firm, to conscience true,
+        However tried and pressed,
+      In God’s clear sight high work we do,
+        If we but do out best.”
+
+Lawrence came down to the funeral, and I took good care that he should
+hear all about his father’s last hours, and I made the solicitor show
+him the unsigned will. He made hardly any comment on it till we three
+were alone together. Then with a sort of kindly patronage he turned to
+his brother--Derrick, it must be remembered, was the elder twin--and
+said pityingly, “Poor old fellow! it was rather rough on you that the
+governor couldn’t sign this; but never mind, you’ll soon, no doubt, be
+earning a fortune by your books; and besides, what does a bachelor want
+with more than you’ve already inherited from our mother? Whereas, an
+officer just going to be married, and with this confounded reputation of
+hero to keep up, why, I can tell you it needs every penny of it!”
+
+Derrick looked at his brother searchingly. I honestly believe that he
+didn’t very much care about the money, but it cut him to the heart that
+Lawrence should treat him so shabbily. The soul of generosity himself,
+he could not understand how anyone could frame a speech so infernally
+mean.
+
+“Of course,” I broke in, “if Derrick liked to go to law he could no
+doubt get his rights, there are three witnesses who can prove what was
+the Major’s real wish.”
+
+“I shall not go to law,” said Derrick, with a dignity of which I had
+hardly imagined him capable. “You spoke of your marriage, Lawrence; is
+it to be soon?”
+
+“This autumn, I hope,” said Lawrence; “at least, if I can overcome Sir
+Richard’s ridiculous notion that a girl ought not to marry till she’s
+twenty-one. He’s a most crotchety old fellow, that future father-in-law
+of mine.”
+
+When Lawrence had first come back from the war I had thought him
+wonderfully improved, but a long course of spoiling and flattery had
+done him a world of harm. He liked very much to be lionised, and to see
+him now posing in drawing-rooms, surrounded by a worshipping throng of
+women, was enough to sicken any sensible being.
+
+As for Derrick, though he could not be expected to feel his bereavement
+in the ordinary way, yet his father’s death had been a great shock to
+him. It was arranged that after settling various matters in Bath
+he should go down to stay with his sister for a time, joining me in
+Montague Street later on. While he was away in Birmingham, however, an
+extraordinary change came into my humdrum life, and when he rejoined me
+a few weeks later, I--selfish brute--was so overwhelmed with the trouble
+that had befallen me that I thought very little indeed of his affairs.
+He took this quite as a matter of course, and what I should have done
+without him I can’t conceive. However, this story concerns him and has
+nothing to do with my extraordinary dilemma; I merely mention it as a
+fact which brought additional cares into his life. All the time he was
+doing what could be done to help me he was also going through a most
+baffling and miserable time among the publishers; for ‘At Strife,’
+unlike its predecessor, was rejected by Davison and by five other
+houses. Think of this, you comfortable readers, as you lie back in your
+easy chairs and leisurely turn the pages of that popular story. The book
+which represented years of study and long hours of hard work was first
+burnt to a cinder. It was re-written with what infinite pains and toil
+few can understand. It was then six times tied up and carried with
+anxiety and hope to a publisher’s office, only to re-appear six times in
+Montague Street, an unwelcome visitor, bringing with it depression and
+disappointment.
+
+Derrick said little, but suffered much. However, nothing daunted him.
+When it came back from the sixth publisher he took it to a seventh, then
+returned and wrote away like a Trojan at his third book. The one thing
+that never failed him was that curious consciousness that he HAD to
+write; like the prophets of old, the ‘burden’ came to him, and speak it
+he must.
+
+The seventh publisher wrote a somewhat dubious letter: the book, he
+thought, had great merit, but unluckily people were prejudiced, and
+historical novels rarely met with success. However, he was willing to
+take the story, and offered half profits, candidly admitting that he
+had no great hopes of a large sale. Derrick instantly closed with this
+offer, proofs came in, the book appeared, was well received like its
+predecessor, fell into the hands of one of the leaders of Society, and,
+to the intense surprise of the publisher, proved to be the novel of
+the year. Speedily a second edition was called for; then, after a brief
+interval, a third edition--this time a rational one-volume affair; and
+the whole lot--6,000 I believe--went off on the day of publication.
+Derrick was amazed; but he enjoyed his success very heartily, and I
+think no one could say that he had leapt into fame at a bound.
+
+Having devoured ‘At Strife,’ people began to discover the merits of
+‘Lynwood’s Heritage;’ the libraries were besieged for it, and a cheap
+edition was hastily published, and another and another, till the book,
+which at first had been such a dead failure, rivalled ‘At Strife.’ Truly
+an author’s career is a curious thing; and precisely why the first book
+failed, and the second succeeded, no one could explain.
+
+It amused me very much to see Derrick turned into a lion--he was so
+essentially un-lion-like. People were for ever asking him how he
+worked, and I remember a very pretty girl setting upon him once at a
+dinner-party with the embarrassing request:
+
+“Now, do tell me, Mr. Vaughan, how do you write stories? I wish you
+would give me a good receipt for a novel.”
+
+Derrick hesitated uneasily for a minute; finally, with a humorous smile,
+he said:
+
+“Well, I can’t exactly tell you, because, more or less, novels grow;
+but if you want a receipt, you might perhaps try after this
+fashion:--Conceive your hero, add a sprinkling of friends and relatives,
+flavour with whatever scenery or local colour you please, carefully
+consider what circumstances are most likely to develop your man into the
+best he is capable of, allow the whole to simmer in your brain as long
+as you can, and then serve, while hot, with ink upon white or blue
+foolscap, according to taste.”
+
+The young lady applauded the receipt, but she sighed a little, and
+probably relinquished all hope of concocting a novel herself; on the
+whole, it seemed to involve incessant taking of trouble.
+
+About this time I remember, too, another little scene, which I enjoyed
+amazingly. I laugh now when I think of it. I happened to be at a huge
+evening crush, and rather to my surprise, came across Lawrence Vaughan.
+We were talking together, when up came Connington of the Foreign Office.
+“I say, Vaughan,” he said, “Lord Remington wishes to be introduced
+to you.” I watched the old statesman a little curiously as he greeted
+Lawrence, and listened to his first words: “Very glad to make your
+acquaintance, Captain Vaughan; I understand that the author of that
+grand novel, ‘At Strife,’ is a brother of yours.” And poor Lawrence
+spent a mauvais quart d’heure, inwardly fuming, I know, at the idea that
+he, the hero of Saspataras Hill, should be considered merely as ‘the
+brother of Vaughan, the novelist.’
+
+Fate, or perhaps I should say the effect of his own pernicious actions,
+did not deal kindly just now with Lawrence. Somehow Freda learnt about
+that will, and, being no bread-and-butter miss, content meekly to adore
+her fiance and deem him faultless, she ‘up and spake’ on the subject,
+and I fancy poor Lawrence must have had another mauvais quart d’heure.
+It was not this, however, which led to a final breach between them; it
+was something which Sir Richard discovered with regard to Lawrence’s
+life at Dover. The engagement was instantly broken off, and Freda, I am
+sure, felt nothing but relief. She went abroad for some time, however,
+and we did not see her till long after Lawrence had been comfortably
+married to 1,500 pounds a year and a middle-aged widow, who had long
+been a hero-worshipper, and who, I am told, never allowed any visitor to
+leave the house without making some allusion to the memorable battle of
+Saspataras Hill and her Lawrence’s gallant action.
+
+For the two years following after the Major’s death, Derrick and I, as I
+mentioned before, shared the rooms in Montague Street. For me, owing to
+the trouble I spoke of, they were years of maddening suspense and
+pain; but what pleasure I did manage to enjoy came entirely through the
+success of my friend’s books and from his companionship. It was odd that
+from the care of his father he should immediately pass on to the care of
+one who had made such a disastrous mistake as I had made. But I feel the
+less compunction at the thought of the amount of sympathy I called
+for at that time, because I notice that the giving of sympathy is a
+necessity for Derrick, and that when the troubles of other folk do not
+immediately thrust themselves into his life he carefully hunts them
+up. During these two years he was reading for the Bar--not that he ever
+expected to do very much as a barrister, but he thought it well to have
+something to fall back on, and declared that the drudgery of the reading
+would do him good. He was also writing as usual, and he used to spend
+two evenings a week at Whitechapel, where he taught one of the classes
+in connection with Toynbee Hall, and where he gained that knowledge
+of East-end life which is conspicuous in his third book--‘Dick Carew.’
+This, with an ever increasing and often very burdensome correspondence,
+brought to him by his books, and with a fair share of dinners, ‘At
+Homes,’ and so forth, made his life a full one. In a quiet sort of way I
+believe he was happy during this time. But later on, when, my trouble
+at an end, I had migrated to a house of my own, and he was left alone in
+the Montague Street rooms, his spirits somehow flagged.
+
+Fame is, after all, a hollow, unsatisfying thing to a man of his nature.
+He heartily enjoyed his success, he delighted in hearing that his books
+had given pleasure or had been of use to anyone, but no public victory
+could in the least make up to him for the loss he had suffered in his
+private life; indeed, I almost think there were times when his triumphs
+as an author seemed to him utterly worthless--days of depression when
+the congratulations of his friends were nothing but a mockery. He had
+gained a striking success, it is true, but he had lost Freda; he was in
+the position of the starving man who has received a gift of bon-bons,
+but so craves for bread that they half sicken him. I used now and
+then to watch his face when, as often happened, someone said: “What
+an enviable fellow you are, Vaughan, to get on like this!” or, “What
+wouldn’t I give to change places with you!” He would invariably smile
+and turn the conversation; but there was a look in his eyes at such
+times that I hated to see--it always made me think of Mrs. Browning’s
+poem, ‘The Mask’:
+
+     “Behind no prison-grate, she said,
+        Which slurs the sunshine half a mile,
+      Live captives so uncomforted
+        As souls behind a smile.”
+
+As to the Merrifields, there was no chance of seeing them, for Sir
+Richard had gone to India in some official capacity, and no doubt,
+as everyone said, they would take good care to marry Freda out there.
+Derrick had not seen her since that trying February at Bath, long ago.
+Yet I fancy she was never out of his thoughts.
+
+And so the years rolled on, and Derrick worked away steadily, giving
+his books to the world, accepting the comforts and discomforts of
+an author’s life, laughing at the outrageous reports that were in
+circulation about him, yet occasionally, I think, inwardly wincing at
+them, and learning from the number of begging letters which he received,
+and into which he usually caused searching inquiry to be made, that
+there are in the world a vast number of undeserving poor.
+
+One day I happened to meet Lady Probyn at a garden-party; it was at the
+same house on Campden Hill where I had once met Freda, and perhaps it
+was the recollection of this which prompted me to enquire after her.
+
+“She has not been well,” said Lady Probyn, “and they are sending her
+back to England; the climate doesn’t suit her. She is to make her home
+with us for the present, so I am the gainer. Freda has always been my
+favourite niece. I don’t know what it is about her that is so taking;
+she is not half so pretty as the others.”
+
+“But so much more charming,” I said. “I wonder she has not married out
+in India, as everyone prophesied.”
+
+“And so do I,” said her aunt. “However, poor child, no doubt, after
+having been two years engaged to that very disappointing hero of
+Saspataras Hill, she will be shy of venturing to trust anyone again.”
+
+“Do you think that affair ever went very deep?” I ventured to ask. “It
+seemed to me that she looked miserable during her engagement, and happy
+when it was broken off.”
+
+“Quite so,” said Lady Probyn; “I noticed the same thing. It was
+nothing but a mistake. They were not in the least suited to each other.
+By-the-by, I hear that Derrick Vaughan is married.”
+
+“Derrick?” I exclaimed; “oh, no, that is a mistake. It is merely one
+of the hundred and one reports that are for ever being set afloat about
+him.”
+
+“But I saw it in a paper, I assure you,” said Lady Probyn, by no means
+convinced.
+
+“Ah, that may very well be; they were hard up for a paragraph, no doubt,
+and inserted it. But, as for Derrick, why, how should he marry? He has
+been madly in love with Miss Merrifield ever since our cruise in the
+Aurora.”
+
+Lady Probyn made an inarticulate exclamation.
+
+“Poor fellow!” she said, after a minute’s thought; “that explains much
+to me.”
+
+She did not explain her rather ambiguous remark, and before long our
+tete-a-tete was interrupted.
+
+Now that my friend was a full-fledged barrister, he and I shared
+chambers, and one morning about a month after this garden party, Derrick
+came in with a face of such radiant happiness that I couldn’t imagine
+what good luck had befallen him.
+
+“What do you think?” he exclaimed; “here’s an invitation for a cruise in
+the Aurora at the end of August--to be nearly the same party that we had
+years ago,” and he threw down the letter for me to read.
+
+Of course there was special mention of “my niece, Miss Merrifield, who
+has just returned from India, and is ordered plenty of sea-air.” I could
+have told that without reading the letter, for it was written quite
+clearly in Derrick’s face. He looked ten years younger, and if any of
+his adoring readers could have seen the pranks he was up to that morning
+in our staid and respectable chambers, I am afraid they would no longer
+have spoken of him “with ‘bated breath and whispering humbleness.”
+
+As it happened, I, too, was able to leave home for a fortnight at the
+end of August; and so our party in the Aurora really was the same,
+except that we were all several years older, and let us hope wiser, than
+on the previous occasion. Considering all that had intervened, I was
+surprised that Derrick was not more altered; as for Freda, she was
+decidedly paler than when we first met her, but before long sea-air and
+happiness wrought a wonderful transformation in her.
+
+In spite of the pessimists who are for ever writing books, even writing
+novels (more shame to them), to prove that there is no such thing as
+happiness in the world, we managed every one of us heartily to enjoy our
+cruise. It seemed indeed true that:
+
+     “Green leaves and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
+      And singing and loving all come back together.”
+
+Something, at any rate, of the glamour of those past days came back to
+us all, I fancy, as we laughed and dozed and idled and talked beneath
+the snowy wings of the Aurora, and I cannot say I was in the least
+surprised when, on roaming through the pleasant garden walks in that
+unique little island of Tresco, I came once more upon Derrick and Freda,
+with, if you will believe it, another handful of white heather given
+to them by that discerning gardener! Freda once more reminded me of the
+girl in the ‘Biglow Papers,’ and Derrick’s face was full of such bliss
+as one seldom sees.
+
+He had always had to wait for his good things, but in the end they came
+to him. However, you may depend upon it, he didn’t say much. That was
+never his way. He only gripped my hand, and, with his eyes all aglow
+with happiness, exclaimed “Congratulate me, old fellow!”
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
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+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
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+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Derrick Vaughan--Novelist
+
+Author: Edna Lyall
+
+Release Date: October 1, 2008 [EBook #1665]
+Last Updated: November 11, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DERRICK VAUGHAN--NOVELIST ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Les Bowler, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      DERRICK VAUGHAN&mdash;NOVELIST
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Edna Lyall
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h4>
+      &lsquo;It is only through deep sympathy that a man can become a great artist.&rsquo;&mdash;<b>Lewes&rsquo;s
+      Life of Goethe</b>. <br /> <br /> &lsquo;Sympathy is feeling related to an object,
+      whilst sentiment is the same feeling seeking itself alone.&rsquo;&mdash;<b>Arnold
+      Toynbee</b>.
+    </h4>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      Contents
+    </h3>
+    <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto">
+      <tr>
+        <td>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0001"> Chapter I. </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0002"> Chapter II. </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0003"> Chapter III. </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0004"> Chapter IV. </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0005"> Chapter V. </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0006"> Chapter VI. </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0007"> Chapter VII. </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0008"> Chapter VIII. </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#link2HCH0009"> Chapter IX. </a>
+          </p>
+        </td>
+      </tr>
+    </table>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter I.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &lsquo;Nothing fills a child&rsquo;s mind like a large old mansion; better if un- or
+      partially occupied; peopled with the spirits of deceased members of the
+      county and Justices of the Quorum. Would I were buried in the peopled
+      solitude of one, with my feelings at seven years old!&rsquo;&mdash;From Letters
+      of Charles Lamb.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To attempt a formal biography of Derrick Vaughan would be out of the
+      question, even though he and I have been more or less thrown together
+      since we were both in the nursery. But I have an odd sort of wish to note
+      down roughly just a few of my recollections of him, and to show how his
+      fortunes gradually developed, being perhaps stimulated to make the attempt
+      by certain irritating remarks which one overhears now often enough at
+      clubs or in drawing-rooms, or indeed wherever one goes. &ldquo;Derrick Vaughan,&rdquo;
+       say these authorities of the world of small-talk, with that delightful air
+      of omniscience which invariably characterises them, &ldquo;why, he simply leapt
+      into fame. He is one of the favourites of fortune. Like Byron, he woke one
+      morning and found himself famous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Now this sounds well enough, but it is a long way from the truth, and I&mdash;Sydney
+      Wharncliffe, of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-law&mdash;desire, while the
+      past few years are fresh in my mind, to write a true version of my
+      friend&rsquo;s career.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Everyone knows his face. Has it not appeared in &lsquo;Noted Men,&rsquo; and&mdash;gradually
+      deteriorating according to the price of the paper and the quality of the
+      engraving&mdash;in many another illustrated journal? Yet somehow these
+      works of art don&rsquo;t satisfy me, and, as I write, I see before me something
+      very different from the latest photograph by Messrs. Paul and Reynard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I see a large-featured, broad-browed English face, a trifle heavy-looking
+      when in repose, yet a thorough, honest, manly face, with a complexion
+      neither dark nor fair, with brown hair and moustache, and with light hazel
+      eyes that look out on the world quietly enough. You might talk to him for
+      long in an ordinary way and never suspect that he was a genius; but when
+      you have him to yourself, when some consciousness of sympathy rouses him,
+      he all at once becomes a different being. His quiet eyes kindle, his face
+      becomes full of life&mdash;you wonder that you ever thought it heavy or
+      commonplace. Then the world interrupts in some way, and, just as a
+      hermit-crab draws down its shell with a comically rapid movement, so
+      Derrick suddenly retires into himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus much for his outer man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the rest, there are of course the neat little accounts of his
+      birthplace, his parentage, his education, etc., etc., published with the
+      list of his works in due order, with the engravings in the illustrated
+      papers. But these tell us little of the real life of the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Carlyle, in one of his finest passages, says that &lsquo;A true delineation of
+      the smallest man and his scene of pilgrimage through life is capable of
+      interesting the greatest men; that all men are to an unspeakable degree
+      brothers, each man&rsquo;s life a strange emblem of every man&rsquo;s; and that human
+      portraits faithfully drawn are of all pictures the welcomest on human
+      walls.&rsquo; And though I don&rsquo;t profess to give a portrait, but merely a
+      sketch, I will endeavour to sketch faithfully, and possibly in the future
+      my work may fall into the hands of some of those worthy people who imagine
+      that my friend leapt into fame at a bound, or of those comfortable mortals
+      who seem to think that a novel is turned out as easily as water from a
+      tap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There is, however, one thing I can never do:&mdash;I am quite unable to
+      put into words my friend&rsquo;s intensely strong feeling with regard to the
+      sacredness of his profession. It seemed to me not unlike the feeling of
+      Isaiah when, in the vision, his mouth had been touched with the celestial
+      fire. And I can only hope that something of this may be read between my
+      very inadequate lines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Looking back, I fancy Derrick must have been a clever child. But he was
+      not precocious, and in some respects was even decidedly backward. I can
+      see him now&mdash;it is my first clear recollection of him&mdash;leaning
+      back in the corner of my father&rsquo;s carriage as we drove from the Newmarket
+      station to our summer home at Mondisfield. He and I were small boys of
+      eight, and Derrick had been invited for the holidays, while his twin
+      brother&mdash;if I remember right&mdash;indulged in typhoid fever at
+      Kensington. He was shy and silent, and the ice was not broken until we
+      passed Silvery Steeple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; said my father, &ldquo;is a ruined church; it was destroyed by Cromwell
+      in the Civil Wars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In an instant the small quiet boy sitting beside me was transformed. His
+      eyes shone; he sprang forward and thrust his head far out of the window,
+      gazing at the old ivy-covered tower as long as it remained in sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was Cromwell really once there?&rdquo; he asked with breathless interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So they say,&rdquo; replied my father, looking with an amused smile at the face
+      of the questioner, in which eagerness, delight, and reverence were
+      mingled. &ldquo;Are you an admirer of the Lord Protector?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is my greatest hero of all,&rdquo; said Derrick fervently. &ldquo;Do you think&mdash;oh,
+      do you think he possibly can ever have come to Mondisfield?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      My father thought not, but said there was an old tradition that the Hall
+      had been attacked by the Royalists, and the bridge over the moat defended
+      by the owner of the house; but he had no great belief in the story, for
+      which, indeed, there seemed no evidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick&rsquo;s eyes during this conversation were something wonderful to see,
+      and long after, when we were not actually playing at anything, I used
+      often to notice the same expression stealing over him, and would cry out,
+      &ldquo;There is the man defending the bridge again; I can see him in your eyes!
+      Tell me what happened to him next!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, generally pacing to and fro in the apple walk, or sitting astride
+      the bridge itself, Derrick would tell me of the adventures of my ancestor,
+      Paul Wharncliffe, who performed incredible feats of valour, and who was to
+      both of us a most real person. On wet days he wrote his story in a
+      copy-book, and would have worked at it for hours had my mother allowed
+      him, though of the manual part of the work he had, and has always
+      retained, the greatest dislike. I remember well the comical ending of this
+      first story of his. He skipped over an interval of ten years, represented
+      on the page by ten laboriously made stars, and did for his hero in the
+      following lines:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now, reader, let us come into Mondisfield churchyard. There are three
+      tombstones. On one is written, &lsquo;Mr. Paul Wharncliffe.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The story was no better than the productions of most eight-year-old
+      children, the written story at least. But, curiously enough, it proved to
+      be the germ of the celebrated romance, &lsquo;At Strife,&rsquo; which Derrick wrote in
+      after years; and he himself maintains that his picture of life during the
+      Civil War would have been much less graphic had he not lived so much in
+      the past during his various visits to Mondisfield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was at his second visit, when we were nine, that I remember his
+      announcing his intention of being an author when he was grown up. My
+      mother still delights in telling the story. She was sitting at work in the
+      south parlour one day, when I dashed into the room calling out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Derrick&rsquo;s head is stuck between the banisters in the gallery; come quick,
+      mother, come quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She ran up the little winding staircase, and there, sure enough, in the
+      musician&rsquo;s gallery, was poor Derrick, his manuscript and pen on the floor
+      and his head in durance vile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You silly boy!&rdquo; said my mother, a little frightened when she found that
+      to get the head back was no easy matter, &ldquo;What made you put it through?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look like King Charles at Carisbrooke,&rdquo; I cried, forgetting how much
+      Derrick would resent the speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And being released at that moment he took me by the shoulders and gave me
+      an angry shake or two, as he said vehemently, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not like King Charles!
+      King Charles was a liar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I saw my mother smile a little as she separated us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, boys, don&rsquo;t quarrel,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;And Derrick will tell me the
+      truth, for indeed I am curious to know why he thrust his head in such a
+      place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wanted to make sure,&rdquo; said Derrick, &ldquo;whether Paul Wharncliffe could see
+      Lady Lettice, when she took the falcon on her wrist below in the passage.
+      I mustn&rsquo;t say he saw her if it&rsquo;s impossible, you know. Authors have to be
+      quite true in little things, and I mean to be an author.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said my mother, laughing at the great earnestness of the hazel
+      eyes, &ldquo;could not your hero look over the top of the rail?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes,&rdquo; said Derrick. &ldquo;He would have done that, but you see it&rsquo;s so
+      dreadfully high and I couldn&rsquo;t get up. But I tell you what, Mrs.
+      Wharncliffe, if it wouldn&rsquo;t be giving you a great deal of trouble&mdash;I&rsquo;m
+      sorry you were troubled to get my head back again&mdash;but if you would
+      just look over, since you are so tall, and I&rsquo;ll run down and act Lady
+      Lettice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why couldn&rsquo;t Paul go downstairs and look at the lady in comfort?&rdquo; asked
+      my mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick mused a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He might look at her through a crack in the door at the foot of the
+      stairs, perhaps, but that would seem mean, somehow. It would be a pity,
+      too, not to use the gallery; galleries are uncommon, you see, and you can
+      get cracked doors anywhere. And, you know, he was obliged to look at her
+      when she couldn&rsquo;t see him, because their fathers were on different sides
+      in the war, and dreadful enemies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When school-days came, matters went on much in the same way; there was
+      always an abominably scribbled tale stowed away in Derrick&rsquo;s desk, and he
+      worked infinitely harder than I did, because there was always before him
+      this determination to be an author and to prepare himself for the life.
+      But he wrote merely from love of it, and with no idea of publication until
+      the beginning of our last year at Oxford, when, having reached the ripe
+      age of one-and-twenty, he determined to delay no longer, but to plunge
+      boldly into his first novel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was seldom able to get more than six or eight hours a week for it,
+      because he was reading rather hard, so that the novel progressed but
+      slowly. Finally, to my astonishment, it came to a dead stand-still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I have never made out exactly what was wrong with Derrick then, though I
+      know that he passed through a terrible time of doubt and despair. I spent
+      part of the Long with him down at Ventnor, where his mother had been
+      ordered for her health. She was devoted to Derrick, and as far as I can
+      understand, he was her chief comfort in life. Major Vaughan, the husband,
+      had been out in India for years; the only daughter was married to a rich
+      manufacturer at Birmingham, who had a constitutional dislike to
+      mothers-in-law, and as far as possible eschewed their company; while
+      Lawrence, Derrick&rsquo;s twin brother, was for ever getting into scrapes, and
+      was into the bargain the most unblushingly selfish fellow I ever had the
+      pleasure of meeting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sydney,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vaughan to me one afternoon when we were in the
+      garden, &ldquo;Derrick seems to me unlike himself, there is a division between
+      us which I never felt before. Can you tell me what is troubling him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was not at all a good-looking woman, but she had a very sweet, wistful
+      face, and I never looked at her sad eyes without feeling ready to go
+      through fire and water for her. I tried now to make light of Derrick&rsquo;s
+      depression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is only going through what we all of us go through,&rdquo; I said, assuming
+      a cheerful tone. &ldquo;He has suddenly discovered that life is a great riddle,
+      and that the things he has accepted in blind faith are, after all, not so
+      sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do all go through it?&rdquo; she said thoughtfully. &ldquo;And how many, I wonder,
+      get beyond?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Few enough,&rdquo; I replied moodily. Then, remembering my role,&mdash;&ldquo;But
+      Derrick will get through; he has a thousand things to help him which
+      others have not,&mdash;you, for instance. And then I fancy he has a sort
+      of insight which most of us are without.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Possibly,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;As for me, it is little that I can do for him.
+      Perhaps you are right, and it is true that once in a life at any rate we
+      all have to go into the wilderness alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That was the last summer I ever saw Derrick&rsquo;s mother; she took a chill the
+      following Christmas and died after a few days&rsquo; illness. But I have always
+      thought her death helped Derrick in a way that her life might have failed
+      to do. For although he never, I fancy, quite recovered from the blow, and
+      to this day cannot speak of her without tears in his eyes, yet when he
+      came back to Oxford he seemed to have found the answer to the riddle, and
+      though older, sadder and graver than before, had quite lost the restless
+      dissatisfaction that for some time had clouded his life. In a few months,
+      moreover, I noticed a fresh sign that he was out of the wood. Coming into
+      his rooms one day I found him sitting in the cushioned window-seat,
+      reading over and correcting some sheets of blue foolscap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At it again?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean to finish the first volume here. For the rest I must be in
+      London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; I asked, a little curious as to this unknown art of novel-making.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;one must be in the heart of things to understand
+      how Lynwood was affected by them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lynwood! I believe you are always thinking of him!&rdquo; (Lynwood was the hero
+      of his novel.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, so I am nearly&mdash;so I must be, if the book is to be any good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read me what you have written,&rdquo; I said, throwing myself back in a rickety
+      but tolerably comfortable arm-chair which Derrick had inherited with the
+      rooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He hesitated a moment, being always very diffident about his own work; but
+      presently, having provided me with a cigar and made a good deal of
+      unnecessary work in arranging the sheets of the manuscript, he began to
+      read aloud, rather nervously, the opening chapters of the book now so well
+      known under the title of &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s Heritage.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I had heard nothing of his for the last four years, and was amazed at the
+      gigantic stride he had made in the interval. For, spite of a certain
+      crudeness, it seemed to me a most powerful story; it rushed straight to
+      the point with no wavering, no beating about the bush; it flung itself
+      into the problems of the day with a sort of sublime audacity; it took hold
+      of one; it whirled one along with its own inherent force, and drew forth
+      both laughter and tears, for Derrick&rsquo;s power of pathos had always been his
+      strongest point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All at once he stopped reading.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on!&rdquo; I cried impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is all,&rdquo; he said, gathering the sheets together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You stopped in the middle of a sentence!&rdquo; I cried in exasperation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said quietly, &ldquo;for six months.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You provoking fellow! why, I wonder?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I didn&rsquo;t know the end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens! And do you know it now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked me full in the face, and there was an expression in his eyes
+      which puzzled me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe I do,&rdquo; he said; and, getting up, he crossed the room, put the
+      manuscript away in a drawer, and returning, sat down in the window-seat
+      again, looking out on the narrow, paved street below, and at the grey
+      buildings opposite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I knew very well that he would never ask me what I thought of the story&mdash;that
+      was not his way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Derrick!&rdquo; I exclaimed, watching his impassive face, &ldquo;I believe after all
+      you are a genius.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I hardly know why I said &ldquo;after all,&rdquo; but till that moment it had never
+      struck me that Derrick was particularly gifted. He had so far got through
+      his Oxford career creditably, but then he had worked hard; his talents
+      were not of a showy order. I had never expected that he would set the
+      Thames on fire. Even now it seemed to me that he was too dreamy, too
+      quiet, too devoid of the pushing faculty to succeed in the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      My remark made him laugh incredulously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Define a genius,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For answer I pulled down his beloved Imperial Dictionary and read him the
+      following quotation from De Quincey: &lsquo;Genius is that mode of intellectual
+      power which moves in alliance with the genial nature, i.e., with the
+      capacities of pleasure and pain; whereas talent has no vestige of such an
+      alliance, and is perfectly independent of all human sensibilities.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me think! You can certainly enjoy things a hundred times more than I
+      can&mdash;and as for suffering, why you were always a great hand at that.
+      Now listen to the great Dr. Johnson and see if the cap fits, &lsquo;The true
+      genius is a mind of large general powers accidentally determined in some
+      particular direction.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Large general powers&rsquo;!&mdash;yes, I believe after all you have them
+      with, alas, poor Derrick! one notable exception&mdash;the mathematical
+      faculty. You were always bad at figures. We will stick to De Quincey&rsquo;s
+      definition, and for heaven&rsquo;s sake, my dear fellow, do get Lynwood out of
+      that awful plight! No wonder you were depressed when you lived all this
+      age with such a sentence unfinished!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the matter of that,&rdquo; said Derrick, &ldquo;he can&rsquo;t get out till the end of
+      the book; but I can begin to go on with him now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when you leave Oxford?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I mean to settle down in London&mdash;to write leisurely&mdash;and
+      possibly to read for the Bar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We might be together,&rdquo; I suggested. And Derrick took to this idea, being
+      a man who detested solitude and crowds about equally. Since his mother&rsquo;s
+      death he had been very much alone in the world. To Lawrence he was always
+      loyal, but the two had nothing in common, and though fond of his sister he
+      could not get on at all with the manufacturer, his brother-in-law. But
+      this prospect of life together in London pleased him amazingly; he began
+      to recover his spirits to a great extent and to look much more like
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It must have been just as he had taken his degree that he received a
+      telegram to announce that Major Vaughan had been invalided home, and would
+      arrive at Southampton in three weeks&rsquo; time. Derrick knew very little of
+      his father, but apparently Mrs. Vaughan had done her best to keep up a
+      sort of memory of his childish days at Aldershot, and in these the part
+      that his father played was always pleasant. So he looked forward to the
+      meeting not a little, while I, from the first, had my doubts as to the
+      felicity it was likely to bring him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, it was ordained that before the Major&rsquo;s ship arrived, his son&rsquo;s
+      whole life should change. Even Lynwood was thrust into the background. As
+      for me, I was nowhere. For Derrick, the quiet, the self-contained, had
+      fallen passionately in love with a certain Freda Merrifield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter II.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &lsquo;Infancy?  What if the rose-streak of morning
+      Pale and depart in a passion of tears?
+      Once to have hoped is no matter for scorning:
+      Love once:  e&rsquo;en love&rsquo;s disappointment endears;
+      A moment&rsquo;s success pays the failure of years.&rsquo; 
+                                               R. Browning.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      The wonder would have been if he had not fallen in love with her, for a
+      more fascinating girl I never saw. She had only just returned from school
+      at Compiegne, and was not yet out; her charming freshness was unsullied;
+      she had all the simplicity and straightforwardness of unspoilt,
+      unsophisticated girlhood. I well remember our first sight of her. We had
+      been invited for a fortnight&rsquo;s yachting by Calverley of Exeter. His
+      father, Sir John Calverley, had a sailing yacht, and some guests having
+      disappointed him at the last minute, he gave his son carte blanche as to
+      who he should bring to fill the vacant berths.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So we three travelled down to Southampton together one hot summer day, and
+      were rowed out to the Aurora, an uncommonly neat little schooner which lay
+      in that over-rated and frequently odoriferous roadstead, Southampton
+      Water. However, I admit that on that evening&mdash;the tide being high&mdash;the
+      place looked remarkably pretty; the level rays of the setting sun turned
+      the water to gold; a soft luminous haze hung over the town and the
+      shipping, and by a stretch of imagination one might have thought the view
+      almost Venetian. Derrick&rsquo;s perfect content was only marred by his shyness.
+      I knew that he dreaded reaching the Aurora; and sure enough, as we stepped
+      on to the exquisitely white deck and caught sight of the little group of
+      guests, I saw him retreat into his crab-shell of silent reserve. Sir John,
+      who made a very pleasant host, introduced us to the other visitors&mdash;Lord
+      Probyn and his wife and their niece, Miss Freda Merrifield. Lady Probyn
+      was Sir John&rsquo;s sister, and also the sister of Miss Merrifield&rsquo;s mother; so
+      that it was almost a family party, and by no means a formidable gathering.
+      Lady Probyn played the part of hostess and chaperoned her pretty niece;
+      but she was not in the least like the aunt of fiction&mdash;on the
+      contrary, she was comparatively young in years and almost comically young
+      in mind; her niece was devoted to her, and the moment I saw her I knew
+      that our cruise could not possibly be dull.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to Miss Freda, when we first caught sight of her she was standing near
+      the companion, dressed in a daintily made yachting costume of blue serge
+      and white braid, and round her white sailor hat she wore the name of the
+      yacht stamped on a white ribbon; in her waist-band she had fastened two
+      deep crimson roses, and she looked at us with frank, girlish curiosity, no
+      doubt wondering whether we should add to or detract from the enjoyment of
+      the expedition. She was rather tall, and there was an air of strength and
+      energy about her which was most refreshing. Her skin was singularly white,
+      but there was a healthy glow of colour in her cheeks; while her large,
+      grey eyes, shaded by long lashes, were full of life and brightness. As to
+      her features, they were perhaps a trifle irregular, and her elder sisters
+      were supposed to eclipse her altogether; but to my mind she was far the
+      most taking of the three.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I was not in the least surprised that Derrick should fall head over ears
+      in love with her; she was exactly the sort of girl that would infallibly
+      attract him. Her absence of shyness; her straightforward, easy way of
+      talking; her genuine goodheartedness; her devotion to animals&mdash;one of
+      his own pet hobbies&mdash;and finally her exquisite playing, made the
+      result a foregone conclusion. And then, moreover, they were perpetually
+      together. He would hang over the piano in the saloon for hours while she
+      played, the rest of us lazily enjoying the easy chairs and the fresh air
+      on deck; and whenever we landed, these two were sure in the end to be just
+      a little apart from the rest of us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was an eminently successful cruise. We all liked each other; the sea
+      was calm, the sunshine constant, the wind as a rule favourable, and I
+      think I never in a single fortnight heard so many good stories, or had
+      such a good time. We seemed to get right out of the world and its narrow
+      restrictions, away from all that was hollow and base and depressing, only
+      landing now and then at quaint little quiet places for some merry
+      excursion on shore. Freda was in the highest spirits; and as to Derrick,
+      he was a different creature. She seemed to have the power of drawing him
+      out in a marvellous degree, and she took the greatest interest in his work&mdash;a
+      sure way to every author&rsquo;s heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it was not till one day, when we landed at Tresco, that I felt certain
+      she genuinely loved him&mdash;there in one glance the truth flashed upon
+      me. I was walking with one of the gardeners down one of the long shady
+      paths of that lovely little island, with its curiously foreign look, when
+      we suddenly came face to face with Derrick and Freda. They were talking
+      earnestly, and I could see her great grey eyes as they were lifted to his&mdash;perhaps
+      they were more expressive than she knew&mdash;I cannot say. They both
+      started a little as we confronted them, and the colour deepened in Freda&rsquo;s
+      face. The gardener, with what photographers usually ask for&mdash;&lsquo;just
+      the faint beginning of a smile,&rsquo;&mdash;turned and gathered a bit of white
+      heather growing near.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say it brings good luck, miss,&rdquo; he remarked, handing it to Freda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; she said, laughing, &ldquo;I hope it will bring it to me. At any
+      rate it will remind me of this beautiful island. Isn&rsquo;t it just like
+      Paradise, Mr. Wharncliffe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For me it is like Paradise before Eve was created,&rdquo; I replied, rather
+      wickedly. &ldquo;By the bye, are you going to keep all the good luck to
+      yourself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; she said laughing. &ldquo;Perhaps I shall; but you have only to
+      ask the gardener, he will gather you another piece directly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I took good care to drop behind, having no taste for the third-fiddle
+      business; but I noticed when we were in the gig once more, rowing back to
+      the yacht, that the white heather had been equally divided&mdash;one half
+      was in the waist-band of the blue serge dress, the other half in the
+      button-hole of Derrick&rsquo;s blazer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So the fortnight slipped by, and at length one afternoon we found
+      ourselves once more in Southampton Water; then came the bustle of packing
+      and the hurry of departure, and the merry party dispersed. Derrick and I
+      saw them all off at the station, for, as his father&rsquo;s ship did not arrive
+      till the following day, I made up my mind to stay on with him at
+      Southampton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will come and see us in town,&rdquo; said Lady Probyn, kindly. And Lord
+      Probyn invited us both for the shooting at Blachington in September. &ldquo;We
+      will have the same party on shore, and see if we can&rsquo;t enjoy ourselves
+      almost as well,&rdquo; he said in his hearty way; &ldquo;the novel will go all the
+      better for it, eh, Vaughan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick brightened visibly at the suggestion. I heard him talking to Freda
+      all the time that Sir John stood laughing and joking as to the comparative
+      pleasures of yachting and shooting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will be there too?&rdquo; Derrick asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t tell,&rdquo; said Freda, and there was a shade of sadness in her tone.
+      Her voice was deeper than most women&rsquo;s voices&mdash;a rich contralto with
+      something striking and individual about it. I could hear her quite
+      plainly; but Derrick spoke less distinctly&mdash;he always had a bad trick
+      of mumbling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see I am the youngest,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and I am not really &lsquo;out.&rsquo; Perhaps
+      my mother will wish one of the elder ones to go; but I half think they are
+      already engaged for September, so after all I may have a chance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Inaudible remark from my friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I came here because my sisters did not care to leave London till the
+      end of the season,&rdquo; replied the clear contralto. &ldquo;It has been a perfect
+      cruise. I shall remember it all my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After that, nothing more was audible; but I imagine Derrick must have
+      hazarded a more personal question, and that Freda had admitted that it was
+      not only the actual sailing she should remember. At any rate her face when
+      I caught sight of it again made me think of the girl described in the
+      &lsquo;Biglow Papers&rsquo;:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;&lsquo;&rsquo;Twas kin&rsquo; o&rsquo; kingdom come to look
+        On sech a blessed creatur.
+        A dogrose blushin&rsquo; to a brook
+        Ain&rsquo;t modester nor sweeter.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      So the train went off, and Derrick and I were left to idle about
+      Southampton and kill time as best we might. Derrick seemed to walk the
+      streets in a sort of dream&mdash;he was perfectly well aware that he had
+      met his fate, and at that time no thought of difficulties in the way had
+      arisen either in his mind or in my own. We were both of us young and
+      inexperienced; we were both of us in love, and we had the usual lover&rsquo;s
+      notion that everything in heaven and earth is prepared to favour the
+      course of his particular passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I remember that we soon found the town intolerable, and, crossing by the
+      ferry, walked over to Netley Abbey, and lay down idly in the shade of the
+      old grey walls. Not a breath of wind stirred the great masses of ivy which
+      were wreathed about the ruined church, and the place looked so lovely in
+      its decay, that we felt disposed to judge the dissolute monks very
+      leniently for having behaved so badly that their church and monastery had
+      to be opened to the four winds of heaven. After all, when is a church so
+      beautiful as when it has the green grass for its floor and the sky for its
+      roof?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I could show you the very spot near the East window where Derrick told me
+      the whole truth, and where we talked over Freda&rsquo;s perfections and the
+      probability of frequent meetings in London. He had listened so often and
+      so patiently to my affairs, that it seemed an odd reversal to have to play
+      the confidant; and if now and then my thoughts wandered off to the coming
+      month at Mondisfield, and pictured violet eyes while he talked of grey, it
+      was not from any lack of sympathy with my friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick was not of a self-tormenting nature, and though I knew he was
+      amazed at the thought that such a girl as Freda could possibly care for
+      him, yet he believed most implicitly that this wonderful thing had come to
+      pass; and, remembering her face as we had last seen it, and the look in
+      her eyes at Tresco, I, too, had not a shadow of a doubt that she really
+      loved him. She was not the least bit of a flirt, and society had not had a
+      chance yet of moulding her into the ordinary girl of the nineteenth
+      century.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps it was the sudden and unexpected change of the next day that makes
+      me remember Derrick&rsquo;s face so distinctly as he lay back on the smooth turf
+      that afternoon in Netley Abbey. As it looked then, full of youth and hope,
+      full of that dream of cloudless love, I never saw it again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter III.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Religion in him never died, but became a habit&mdash;a habit of
+     enduring hardness, and cleaving to the steadfast performance
+     of duty in the face of the strongest allurements to the
+     pleasanter and easier course.&rdquo; Life of Charles Lamb, by A.
+     Ainger.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Derrick was in good spirits the next day. He talked much of Major Vaughan,
+      wondered whether the voyage home had restored his health, discussed the
+      probable length of his leave, and speculated as to the nature of his
+      illness; the telegram had of course given no details.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There has not been even a photograph for the last five years,&rdquo; he
+      remarked, as we walked down to the quay together. &ldquo;Yet I think I should
+      know him anywhere, if it is only by his height. He used to look so well on
+      horseback. I remember as a child seeing him in a sham fight charging up
+      Caesar&rsquo;s Camp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How old were you when he went out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, quite a small boy,&rdquo; replied Derrick. &ldquo;It was just before I first
+      stayed with you. However, he has had a regular succession of photographs
+      sent out to him, and will know me easily enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Poor Derrick! I can&rsquo;t think of that day even now without a kind of mental
+      shiver. We watched the great steamer as it glided up to the quay, and
+      Derrick scanned the crowded deck with eager eyes, but could nowhere see
+      the tall, soldierly figure that had lingered so long in his memory. He
+      stood with his hand resting on the rail of the gangway, and when presently
+      it was raised to the side of the steamer, he still kept his position, so
+      that he could instantly catch sight of his father as he passed down. I
+      stood close behind him, and watched the motley procession of passengers;
+      most of them had the dull colourless skin which bespeaks long residence in
+      India, and a particularly yellow and peevish-looking old man was grumbling
+      loudly as he slowly made his way down the gangway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The most disgraceful scene!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;The fellow was as drunk as he
+      could be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was it?&rdquo; asked his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Major Vaughan, to be sure. The only wonder is that he hasn&rsquo;t drunk
+      himself to death by this time&mdash;been at it years enough!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick turned, as though to shelter himself from the curious eyes of the
+      travellers; but everywhere the quay was crowded. It seemed to me not
+      unlike the life that lay before him, with this new shame which could not
+      be hid, and I shall never forget the look of misery in his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most likely a great exaggeration of that spiteful old fogey&rsquo;s,&rdquo; I said.
+      &ldquo;Never believe anything that you hear, is a sound axiom. Had you not
+      better try to get on board?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and for heaven&rsquo;s sake come with me, Wharncliffe!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It can&rsquo;t
+      be true! It is, as you say, that man&rsquo;s spite, or else there is someone
+      else of the name on board. That must be it&mdash;someone else of the
+      name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I don&rsquo;t know whether he managed to deceive himself. We made our way on
+      board, and he spoke to one of the stewards, who conducted us to the
+      saloon. I knew from the expression of the man&rsquo;s face that the words we had
+      overheard were but too true; it was a mere glance that he gave us, yet if
+      he had said aloud, &ldquo;They belong to that old drunkard! Thank heaven I&rsquo;m not
+      in their shoes!&rdquo; I could not have better understood what was in his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were three persons only in the great saloon: an officer&rsquo;s servant,
+      whose appearance did not please me; a fine looking old man with grey hair
+      and whiskers, and a rough-hewn honest face, apparently the ship&rsquo;s doctor;
+      and a tall grizzled man in whom I at once saw a sort of horrible likeness
+      to Derrick&mdash;horrible because this face was wicked and degraded, and
+      because its owner was drunk&mdash;noisily drunk. Derrick paused for a
+      minute, looking at his father; then, deadly pale, he turned to the old
+      doctor. &ldquo;I am Major Vaughan&rsquo;s son,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor grasped his hand, and there was something in the old man&rsquo;s
+      kindly, chivalrous manner which brought a sort of light into the gloom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very glad to see you!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Is the Major&rsquo;s luggage ready?&rdquo;
+       he inquired turning to the servant. Then, as the man replied in the
+      affirmative, &ldquo;How would it be, Mr. Vaughan, if your father&rsquo;s man just saw
+      the things into a cab? and then I&rsquo;ll come on shore with you and see my
+      patient safely settled in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick acquiesced, and the doctor turned to the Major, who was leaning up
+      against one of the pillars of the saloon and shouting out &ldquo;&lsquo;Twas in
+      Trafalgar Bay,&rdquo; in a way which, under other circumstances, would have been
+      highly comic. The doctor interrupted him, as with much feeling he sang
+      how:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;England declared that every man
+      That day had done his duty.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look, Major,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;here is your son come to meet you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad to see you, my boy,&rdquo; said the Major, reeling forward and running all
+      his words together. &ldquo;How&rsquo;s your mother? Is this Lawrence? Glad to see both
+      of you! Why, you&rsquo;r&rsquo;s like&rsquo;s two peas! Not Lawrence, do you say? Confound
+      it, doctor, how the ship rolls to-day!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the old wretch staggered and would have fallen, had not Derrick
+      supported him and landed him safely on one of the fixed ottomans.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, you&rsquo;re the son for me,&rdquo; he went on, with a bland smile, which
+      made his face all the more hideous. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not so rough and clumsy as
+      that confounded John Thomas, whose hands are like brickbats. I&rsquo;m a mere
+      wreck, as you see; it&rsquo;s the accursed climate! But your mother will soon
+      nurse me into health again; she was always a good nurse, poor soul! it was
+      her best point. What with you and your mother, I shall soon be myself
+      again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the doctor interposed, and Derrick made desperately for a porthole
+      and gulped down mouthfuls of fresh air: but he was not allowed much of a
+      respite, for the servant returned to say that he had procured a cab, and
+      the Major called loudly for his son&rsquo;s arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll not have you,&rdquo; he said, pushing the servant violently away. &ldquo;Come,
+      Derrick, help me! you are worth two of that blockhead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Derrick came quickly forward, his face still very pale, but with a
+      dignity about it which I had never before seen; and, giving his arm to his
+      drunken father, he piloted him across the saloon, through the staring
+      ranks of stewards, officials, and tardy passengers outside, down the
+      gangway, and over the crowded quay to the cab. I knew that each derisive
+      glance of the spectators was to him like a sword-thrust, and longed to
+      throttle the Major, who seemed to enjoy himself amazingly on terra firma,
+      and sang at the top of his voice as we drove through the streets of
+      Southampton. The old doctor kept up a cheery flow of small-talk with me,
+      thinking, no doubt, that this would be a kindness to Derrick: and at last
+      that purgatorial drive ended, and somehow Derrick and the doctor between
+      them got the Major safely into his room at Radley&rsquo;s Hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We had ordered lunch in a private sitting-room, thinking that the Major
+      would prefer it to the coffee-room; but, as it turned out, he was in no
+      state to appear. They left him asleep, and the ship&rsquo;s doctor sat in the
+      seat that had been prepared for his patient, and made the meal as
+      tolerable to us both as it could be. He was an odd, old-fashioned fellow,
+      but as true a gentleman as ever breathed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he said, when lunch was over, &ldquo;you and I must have a talk together,
+      Mr. Vaughan, and I will help you to understand your father&rsquo;s case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I made a movement to go, but sat down again at Derrick&rsquo;s request. I think,
+      poor old fellow, he dreaded being alone, and knowing that I had seen his
+      father at the worst, thought I might as well hear all particulars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major Vaughan,&rdquo; continued the doctor, &ldquo;has now been under my care for
+      some weeks, and I had some communication with the regimental surgeon about
+      his case before he sailed. He is suffering from an enlarged liver, and the
+      disease has been brought on by his unfortunate habit of over-indulgence in
+      stimulants.&rdquo; I could almost have smiled, so very gently and considerately
+      did the good old man veil in long words the shameful fact. &ldquo;It is a habit
+      sadly prevalent among our fellow-countrymen in India; the climate
+      aggravates the mischief, and very many lives are in this way ruined. Then
+      your father was also unfortunate enough to contract rheumatism when he was
+      camping out in the jungle last year, and this is increasing on him very
+      much, so that his life is almost intolerable to him, and he naturally
+      flies for relief to his greatest enemy, drink. At all costs, however, you
+      must keep him from stimulants; they will only intensify the disease and
+      the sufferings, in fact they are poison to a man in such a state. Don&rsquo;t
+      think I am a bigot in these matters; but I say that for a man in such a
+      condition as this, there is nothing for it but total abstinence, and at
+      all costs your father must be guarded from the possibility of procuring
+      any sort of intoxicating drink. Throughout the voyage I have done my best
+      to shield him, but it was a difficult matter. His servant, too, is not
+      trustworthy, and should be dismissed if possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Had he spoken at all of his plans?&rdquo; asked Derrick, and his voice sounded
+      strangely unlike itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He asked me what place in England he had better settle down in,&rdquo; said the
+      doctor, &ldquo;and I strongly recommended him to try Bath. This seemed to please
+      him, and if he is well enough he had better go there to-morrow. He
+      mentioned your mother this morning; no doubt she will know how to manage
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother died six months ago,&rdquo; said Derrick, pushing back his chair and
+      beginning to pace the room. The doctor made kindly apologies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you have a sister, who could go to him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Derrick. &ldquo;My only sister is married, and her husband would
+      never allow it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or a cousin or an aunt?&rdquo; suggested the old man, naively unconscious that
+      the words sounded like a quotation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I saw the ghost of a smile flit over Derrick&rsquo;s harassed face as he shook
+      his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suggested that he should go into some Home for&mdash;cases of the
+      kind,&rdquo; resumed the doctor, &ldquo;or place himself under the charge of some
+      medical man; however, he won&rsquo;t hear of such a thing. But if he is left to
+      himself&mdash;well, it is all up with him. He will drink himself to death
+      in a few months.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He shall not be left alone,&rdquo; said Derrick; &ldquo;I will live with him. Do you
+      think I should do? It seems to be Hobson&rsquo;s choice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked up in amazement&mdash;for here was Derrick calmly giving himself
+      up to a life that must crush every plan for the future he had made. Did
+      men make such a choice as that while they took two or three turns in a
+      room? Did they speak so composedly after a struggle that must have been so
+      bitter? Thinking it over now, I feel sure it was his extraordinary gift of
+      insight and his clear judgment which made him behave in this way. He
+      instantly perceived and promptly acted; the worst of the suffering came
+      long after.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course you are the very best person in the world for him,&rdquo; said
+      the doctor. &ldquo;He has taken a fancy to you, and evidently you have a certain
+      influence with him. If any one can save him it will be you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the thought of allowing Derrick to be sacrificed to that old brute of
+      a Major was more than I could bear calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A more mad scheme was never proposed,&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;Why, doctor, it will be
+      utter ruin to my friend&rsquo;s career; he will lose years that no one can ever
+      make up. And besides, he is unfit for such a strain, he will never stand
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      My heart felt hot as I thought of Derrick, with his highly-strung,
+      sensitive nature, his refinement, his gentleness, in constant
+      companionship with such a man as Major Vaughan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; said the old doctor, with a gleam in his eye, &ldquo;I understand
+      your feeling well enough. But depend upon it, your friend has made the
+      right choice, and there is no doubt that he&rsquo;ll be strong enough to do his
+      duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The word reminded me of the Major&rsquo;s song, and my voice was abominably
+      sarcastic in tone as I said to Derrick, &ldquo;You no longer consider writing
+      your duty then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but it must stand second to this. Don&rsquo;t be vexed, Sydney;
+      our plans are knocked on the head, but it is not so bad as you make out. I
+      have at any rate enough to live on, and can afford to wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no more to be said, and the next day I saw that strange trio set
+      out on their road to Bath. The Major looking more wicked when sober than
+      he had done when drunk; the old doctor kindly and considerate as ever; and
+      Derrick, with an air of resolution about that English face of his and a
+      dauntless expression in his eyes which impressed me curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These quiet, reserved fellows are always giving one odd surprises. He had
+      astonished me by the vigour and depth of the first volume of &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s
+      Heritage.&rsquo; He astonished me now by a new phase in his own character.
+      Apparently he who had always been content to follow where I led, and to
+      watch life rather than to take an active share in it, now intended to
+      strike out a very decided line of his own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter IV.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Both Goethe and Schiller were profoundly convinced that Art
+     was no luxury of leisure, no mere amusement to charm the
+     idle, or relax the careworn; but a mighty influence, serious
+     in its aims although pleasureable in its means; a sister of
+     Religion, by whose aid the great world-scheme was wrought
+     into reality.&rdquo;  Lewes&rsquo;s Life of Goethe.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Man is a selfish being, and I am a particularly fine specimen of the race
+      as far as that characteristic goes. If I had had a dozen drunken parents I
+      should never have danced attendance on one of them; yet in my secret soul
+      I admired Derrick for the line he had taken, for we mostly do admire what
+      is unlike ourselves and really noble, though it is the fashion to seem
+      totally indifferent to everything in heaven and earth. But all the same I
+      felt annoyed about the whole business, and was glad to forget it in my own
+      affairs at Mondisfield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Weeks passed by. I lived through a midsummer dream of happiness, and a
+      hard awaking. That, however, has nothing to do with Derrick&rsquo;s story, and
+      may be passed over. In October I settled down in Montague Street,
+      Bloomsbury, and began to read for the Bar, in about as disagreeable a
+      frame of mind as can be conceived. One morning I found on my breakfast
+      table a letter in Derrick&rsquo;s handwriting. Like most men, we hardly ever
+      corresponded&mdash;what women say in the eternal letters they send to each
+      other I can&rsquo;t conceive&mdash;but it struck me that under the circumstances
+      I ought to have sent him a line to ask how he was getting on, and my
+      conscience pricked me as I remembered that I had hardly thought of him
+      since we parted, being absorbed in my own matters. The letter was not very
+      long, but when one read between the lines it somehow told a good deal. I
+      have it lying by me, and this is a copy of it:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Sydney,&mdash;Do like a good fellow go to North Audley Street for
+      me, to the house which I described to you as the one where Lynwood lodged,
+      and tell me what he would see besides the church from his window&mdash;if
+      shops, what kind? Also if any glimpse of Oxford Street would be visible.
+      Then if you&rsquo;ll add to your favours by getting me a second-hand copy of
+      Laveleye&rsquo;s &lsquo;Socialisme Contemporain,&rsquo; I should be for ever grateful. We
+      are settled in here all right. Bath is empty, but I people it as far as I
+      can with the folk out of &lsquo;Evelina&rsquo; and &lsquo;Persuasion.&rsquo; How did you get on at
+      Blachington? and which of the Misses Merrifield went in the end? Don&rsquo;t
+      bother about the commissions. Any time will do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ever yours,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Derrick Vaughan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Poor old fellow! all the spirit seemed knocked out of him. There was not
+      one word about the Major, and who could say what wretchedness was veiled
+      in that curt phrase, &ldquo;we are settled in all right&rdquo;? All right! it was all
+      as wrong as it could be! My blood began to boil at the thought of Derrick,
+      with his great powers&mdash;his wonderful gift&mdash;cooped up in a place
+      where the study of life was so limited and so dull. Then there was his
+      hunger for news of Freda, and his silence as to what had kept him away
+      from Blachington, and about all a sort of proud humility which prevented
+      him from saying much that I should have expected him to say under the
+      circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Saturday, and my time was my own. I went out, got his book for him;
+      interviewed North Audley Street; spent a bad five minutes in company with
+      that villain &lsquo;Bradshaw,&rsquo; who is responsible for so much of the brain and
+      eye disease of the nineteenth century, and finally left Paddington in the
+      Flying Dutchman, which landed me at Bath early in the afternoon. I left my
+      portmanteau at the station, and walked through the city till I reached Gay
+      Street. Like most of the streets of Bath, it was broad, and had on either
+      hand dull, well-built, dark grey, eminently respectable, unutterably
+      dreary-looking houses. I rang, and the door was opened to me by a most
+      quaint old woman, evidently the landlady. An odour of curry pervaded the
+      passage, and became more oppressive as the door of the sitting-room was
+      opened, and I was ushered in upon the Major and his son, who had just
+      finished lunch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo!&rdquo; cried Derrick, springing up, his face full of delight which
+      touched me, while at the same time it filled me with envy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even the Major thought fit to give me a hearty welcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad to see you again,&rdquo; he said pleasantly enough. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a relief to have
+      a fresh face to look at. We have a room which is quite at your disposal,
+      and I hope you&rsquo;ll stay with us. Brought your portmanteau, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is at the station,&rdquo; I replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See that it is sent for,&rdquo; he said to Derrick; &ldquo;and show Mr. Wharncliffe
+      all that is to be seen in this cursed hole of a place.&rdquo; Then, turning
+      again to me, &ldquo;Have you lunched? Very well, then, don&rsquo;t waste this fine
+      afternoon in an invalid&rsquo;s room, but be off and enjoy yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So cordial was the old man, that I should have thought him already a
+      reformed character, had I not found that he kept the rough side of his
+      tongue for home use. Derrick placed a novel and a small handbell within
+      his reach, and we were just going, when we were checked by a volley of
+      oaths from the Major; then a book came flying across the room, well aimed
+      at Derrick&rsquo;s head. He stepped aside, and let it fall with a crash on the
+      sideboard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean by giving me the second volume when you know I am in the
+      third?&rdquo; fumed the invalid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He apologised quietly, fetched the third volume, straightened the
+      disordered leaves of the discarded second, and with the air of one well
+      accustomed to such little domestic scenes, took up his hat and came out
+      with me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long do you intend to go on playing David to the Major&rsquo;s Saul?&rdquo; I
+      asked, marvelling at the way in which he endured the humours of his
+      father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As long as I have the chance,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;I say, are you sure you won&rsquo;t
+      mind staying with us? It can&rsquo;t be a very comfortable household for an
+      outsider.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Much better than for an insider, to all appearance,&rdquo; I replied. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m only
+      too delighted to stay. And now, old fellow, tell me the honest truth&mdash;you
+      didn&rsquo;t, you know, in your letter&mdash;how have you been getting on?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick launched into an account of his father&rsquo;s ailments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, hang the Major! I don&rsquo;t care about him, I want to know about you,&rdquo; I
+      cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About me?&rdquo; said Derrick doubtfully. &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m right enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you do with yourself? How on earth do you kill time?&rdquo; I asked.
+      &ldquo;Come, give me a full, true, and particular account of it all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have tried three other servants,&rdquo; said Derrick; &ldquo;but the plan doesn&rsquo;t
+      answer. They either won&rsquo;t stand it, or else they are bribed into smuggling
+      brandy into the house. I find I can do most things for my father, and in
+      the morning he has an attendant from the hospital who is trustworthy, and
+      who does what is necessary for him. At ten we breakfast together, then
+      there are the morning papers, which he likes to have read to him. After
+      that I go round to the Pump Room with him&mdash;odd contrast now to what
+      it must have been when Bath was the rage. Then we have lunch. In the
+      afternoon, if he is well enough, we drive; if not he sleeps, and I get a
+      walk. Later on an old Indian friend of his will sometimes drop in; if not
+      he likes to be read to until dinner. After dinner we play chess&mdash;he
+      is a first-rate player. At ten I help him to bed; from eleven to twelve I
+      smoke and study Socialism and all the rest of it that Lynwood is at
+      present floundering in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you write, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tried it, but it didn&rsquo;t answer. I couldn&rsquo;t sleep after it, and was, in
+      fact, too tired; seems absurd to be tired after such a day as that, but
+      somehow it takes it out of one more than the hardest reading; I don&rsquo;t know
+      why.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; I said angrily, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s because it is work to which you are quite
+      unsuited&mdash;work for a thick-skinned, hard-hearted, uncultivated and
+      well-paid attendant, not for the novelist who is to be the chief light of
+      our generation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laughed at this estimate of his powers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Novelists, like other cattle, have to obey their owner,&rdquo; he said lightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I thought for a moment that he meant the Major, and was breaking into an
+      angry remonstrance, when I saw that he meant something quite different. It
+      was always his strongest point, this extraordinary consciousness of right,
+      this unwavering belief that he had to do and therefore could do certain
+      things. Without this, I know that he never wrote a line, and in my heart I
+      believe this was the cause of his success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you are not writing at all?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I write generally for a couple of hours before breakfast,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And that evening we sat by his gas stove and he read me the next four
+      chapters of &lsquo;Lynwood.&rsquo; He had rather a dismal lodging-house bedroom, with
+      faded wall-paper and a prosaic snuff-coloured carpet. On a rickety table
+      in the window was his desk, and a portfolio full of blue foolscap, but he
+      had done what he could to make the place habitable; his Oxford pictures
+      were on the walls&mdash;Hoffman&rsquo;s &lsquo;Christ speaking to the Woman taken in
+      Adultery,&rsquo; hanging over the mantelpiece&mdash;it had always been a
+      favourite of his. I remember that, as he read the description of Lynwood
+      and his wife, I kept looking from him to the Christ in the picture till I
+      could almost have fancied that each face bore the same expression. Had
+      this strange monotonous life with that old brute of a Major brought him
+      some new perception of those words, &ldquo;Neither do I condemn thee&rdquo;? But when
+      he stopped reading, I, true to my character, forgot his affairs in my own,
+      as we sat talking far into the night&mdash;talking of that luckless month
+      at Mondisfield, of all the problems it had opened up, and of my
+      wretchedness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were in town all September?&rdquo; he asked; &ldquo;you gave up Blachington?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; I replied. &ldquo;What did I care for country houses in such a mood as
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He acquiesced, and I went on talking of my grievances, and it was not till
+      I was in the train on my way back to London that I remembered how a look
+      of disappointment had passed over his face just at the moment. Evidently
+      he had counted on learning something about Freda from me, and I&mdash;well,
+      I had clean forgotten both her existence and his passionate love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Something, probably self-interest, the desire for my friend&rsquo;s company, and
+      so forth, took me down to Bath pretty frequently in those days; luckily
+      the Major had a sort of liking for me, and was always polite enough; and
+      dear old Derrick&mdash;well, I believe my visits really helped to brighten
+      him up. At any rate he said he couldn&rsquo;t have borne his life without them,
+      and for a sceptical, dismal, cynical fellow like me to hear that was
+      somehow flattering. The mere force of contrast did me good. I used to come
+      back on the Monday wondering that Derrick didn&rsquo;t cut his throat, and
+      realising that, after all, it was something to be a free agent, and to
+      have comfortable rooms in Montague Street, with no old bear of a drunkard
+      to disturb my peace. And then a sort of admiration sprang up in my heart,
+      and the cynicism bred of melancholy broodings over solitary pipes was less
+      rampant than usual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was, I think, early in the new year that I met Lawrence Vaughan in
+      Bath. He was not staying at Gay Street, so I could still have the vacant
+      room next to Derrick&rsquo;s. Lawrence put up at the York House Hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For you know,&rdquo; he informed me, &ldquo;I really can&rsquo;t stand the governor for
+      more than an hour or two at a time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Derrick manages to do it,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Derrick, yes,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s his metier, and he is well
+      accustomed to the life. Besides, you know, he is such a dreamy, quiet sort
+      of fellow; he lives all the time in a world of his own creation, and bears
+      the discomforts of this world with great philosophy. Actually he has
+      turned teetotaller! It would kill me in a week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I make a point of never arguing with a fellow like that, but I think I had
+      a vindictive longing, as I looked at him, to shut him up with the Major
+      for a month, and see what would happen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These twin brothers were curiously alike in face and curiously unlike in
+      nature. So much for the great science of physiognomy! It often seemed to
+      me that they were the complement of each other. For instance, Derrick in
+      society was extremely silent, Lawrence was a rattling talker; Derrick,
+      when alone with you, would now and then reveal unsuspected depths of
+      thought and expression; Lawrence, when alone with you, very frequently
+      showed himself to be a cad. The elder twin was modest and diffident, the
+      younger inclined to brag; the one had a strong tendency to melancholy, the
+      other was blest or cursed with the sort of temperament which has been said
+      to accompany &ldquo;a hard heart and a good digestion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I was not surprised to find that the son who could not tolerate the
+      governor&rsquo;s presence for more than an hour or two, was a prime favourite
+      with the old man; that was just the way of the world. Of course, the Major
+      was as polite as possible to him; Derrick got the kicks and Lawrence the
+      half-pence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the evenings we played whist, Lawrence coming in after dinner, &ldquo;For,
+      you know,&rdquo; he explained to me, &ldquo;I really couldn&rsquo;t get through a meal with
+      nothing but those infernal mineral waters to wash it down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And here I must own that at my first visit I had sailed rather close to
+      the wind; for when the Major, like the Hatter in &lsquo;Alice,&rsquo; pressed me to
+      take wine, I&mdash;not seeing any&mdash;had answered that I did not take
+      it; mentally adding the words, &ldquo;in your house, you brute!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two brothers were fond of each other after a fashion. But Derrick was
+      human, and had his faults like the rest of us; and I am pretty sure he did
+      not much enjoy the sight of his father&rsquo;s foolish and unreasonable devotion
+      to Lawrence. If you come to think of it, he would have been a full-fledged
+      angel if no jealous pang, no reflection that it was rather rough on him,
+      had crossed his mind, when he saw his younger brother treated with every
+      mark of respect and liking, and knew that Lawrence would never stir a
+      finger really to help the poor fractious invalid. Unluckily they happened
+      one night to get on the subject of professions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a comfort,&rdquo; said the Major, in his sarcastic way, &ldquo;to have a
+      fellow-soldier to talk to instead of a quill-driver, who as yet is not
+      even a penny-a-liner. Eh, Derrick? Don&rsquo;t you feel inclined to regret your
+      fool&rsquo;s choice now? You might have been starting off for the war with
+      Lawrence next week, if you hadn&rsquo;t chosen what you&rsquo;re pleased to call a
+      literary life. Literary life, indeed! I little thought a son of mine would
+      ever have been so wanting in spirit as to prefer dabbling in ink to a life
+      of action&mdash;to be the scribbler of mere words, rather than an officer
+      of dragoons.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then to my astonishment Derrick sprang to his feet in hot indignation. I
+      never saw him look so handsome, before or since; for his anger was not the
+      distorting, devilish anger that the Major gave way to, but real downright
+      wrath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak contemptuously of mere novels,&rdquo; he said in a low voice, yet
+      more clearly than usual, and as if the words were wrung out of him. &ldquo;What
+      right have you to look down on one of the greatest weapons of the day? and
+      why is a writer to submit to scoffs and insults and tamely to hear his
+      profession reviled? I have chosen to write the message that has been given
+      me, and I don&rsquo;t regret the choice. Should I have shown greater spirit if I
+      had sold my freedom and right of judgment to be one of the national
+      killing machines?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With that he threw down his cards and strode out of the room in a white
+      heat of anger. It was a pity he made that last remark, for it put him in
+      the wrong and needlessly annoyed Lawrence and the Major. But an angry man
+      has no time to weigh his words, and, as I said, poor old Derrick was very
+      human, and when wounded too intolerably could on occasion retaliate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Major uttered an oath and looked in astonishment at the retreating
+      figure. Derrick was such an extraordinarily quiet, respectful,
+      long-suffering son as a rule, that this outburst was startling in the
+      extreme. Moreover, it spoilt the game, and the old man, chafed by the
+      result of his own ill-nature, and helpless to bring back his partner, was
+      forced to betake himself to chess. I left him grumbling away to Lawrence
+      about the vanity of authors, and went out in the hope of finding Derrick.
+      As I left the house I saw someone turn the corner into the Circus, and
+      starting in pursuit, overtook the tall, dark figure where Bennett Street
+      opens on to the Lansdowne Hill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad you spoke up, old fellow,&rdquo; I said, taking his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He modified his pace a little. &ldquo;Why is it,&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;that every
+      other profession can be taken seriously, but that a novelist&rsquo;s work is
+      supposed to be mere play? Good God! don&rsquo;t we suffer enough? Have we not
+      hard brain work and drudgery of desk work and tedious gathering of
+      statistics and troublesome search into details? Have we not an appalling
+      weight of responsibility on us?&mdash;and are we not at the mercy of a
+      thousand capricious chances?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come now,&rdquo; I exclaimed, &ldquo;you know that you are never so happy as when you
+      are writing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he replied; &ldquo;but that doesn&rsquo;t make me resent such an attack
+      the less. Besides, you don&rsquo;t know what it is to have to write in such an
+      atmosphere as ours; it&rsquo;s like a weight on one&rsquo;s pen. This life here is not
+      life at all&mdash;it&rsquo;s a daily death, and it&rsquo;s killing the book too; the
+      last chapters are wretched&mdash;I&rsquo;m utterly dissatisfied with them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As for that,&rdquo; I said calmly, &ldquo;you are no judge at all. You can never tell
+      the worth of your own work; the last bit is splendid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could have done it better,&rdquo; he groaned. &ldquo;But there is always a ghastly
+      depression dragging one back here&mdash;and then the time is so short;
+      just as one gets into the swing of it the breakfast bell rings, and then
+      comes&mdash;&rdquo; He broke off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I could well supply the end of the sentence, however, for I knew that then
+      came the slow torture of a tete-a-tete day with the Major, stinging
+      sarcasms, humiliating scoldings, vexations and difficulties innumerable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I drew him to the left, having no mind to go to the top of the hill. We
+      slackened our pace again and walked to and fro along the broad level
+      pavement of Lansdowne Crescent. We had it entirely to ourselves&mdash;not
+      another creature was in sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could bear it all,&rdquo; he burst forth, &ldquo;if only there was a chance of
+      seeing Freda. Oh, you are better off than I am&mdash;at least, you know
+      the worst. Your hope is killed, but mine lives on a tortured, starved
+      life! Would to God I had never seen her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Certainly before that night I had never quite realised the irrevocableness
+      of poor Derrick&rsquo;s passion. I had half hoped that time and separation would
+      gradually efface Freda Merrifield from his memory; and I listened with a
+      dire foreboding to the flood of wretchedness which he poured forth as we
+      paced up and down, thinking now and then how little people guessed at the
+      tremendous powers hidden under his usually quiet exterior.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length he paused, but his last heart-broken words seemed to vibrate in
+      the air and to force me to speak some kind of comfort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Derrick,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;come back with me to London&mdash;give up this
+      miserable life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I felt him start a little; evidently no thought of yielding had come to
+      him before. We were passing the house that used to belong to that strange
+      book-lover and recluse, Beckford. I looked up at the blank windows, and
+      thought of that curious, self-centred life in the past, surrounded by
+      every luxury, able to indulge every whim; and then I looked at my
+      companion&rsquo;s pale, tortured face, and thought of the life he had elected to
+      lead in the hope of saving one whom duty bound him to honour. After all,
+      which life was the most worth living&mdash;which was the most to be
+      admired?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We walked on; down below us and up on the farther hill we could see the
+      lights of Bath; the place so beautiful by day looked now like a fairy
+      city, and the Abbey, looming up against the moon-lit sky, seemed like some
+      great giant keeping watch over the clustering roofs below. The well-known
+      chimes rang out into the night and the clock struck ten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go back,&rdquo; said Derrick, quietly. &ldquo;My father will want to get to
+      bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I couldn&rsquo;t say a word; we turned, passed Beckford&rsquo;s house once more,
+      walked briskly down the hill, and reached the Gay Street lodging-house. I
+      remember the stifling heat of the room as we entered it, and its contrast
+      to the cool, dark, winter&rsquo;s night outside. I can vividly recall, too, the
+      old Major&rsquo;s face as he looked up with a sarcastic remark, but with a shade
+      of anxiety in his bloodshot eyes. He was leaning back in a green-cushioned
+      chair, and his ghastly yellow complexion seemed to me more noticeable than
+      usual&mdash;his scanty grey hair and whiskers, the lines of pain so
+      plainly visible in his face, impressed me curiously. I think I had never
+      before realised what a wreck of a man he was&mdash;how utterly dependent
+      on others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lawrence, who, to do him justice, had a good deal of tact, and who, I
+      believe, cared for his brother as much as he was capable of caring for any
+      one but himself, repeated a good story with which he had been enlivening
+      the Major, and I did what I could to keep up the talk. Derrick meanwhile
+      put away the chessmen, and lighted the Major&rsquo;s candle. He even managed to
+      force up a laugh at Lawrence&rsquo;s story, and, as he helped his father out of
+      the room, I think I was the only one who noticed the look of tired
+      endurance in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter V.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                                     &ldquo;I know
+      How far high failure overtops the bounds
+      Of low successes.  Only suffering draws
+      The inner heart of song, and can elicit
+      The perfumes of the soul.&rdquo;
+                                 Epic of Hades.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Next week, Lawrence went off like a hero to the war; and my friend&mdash;also
+      I think like a hero&mdash;stayed on at Bath, enduring as best he could the
+      worst form of loneliness; for undoubtedly there is no loneliness so
+      frightful as constant companionship with an uncongenial person. He had,
+      however, one consolation: the Major&rsquo;s health steadily improved, under the
+      joint influence of total abstinence and Bath water, and, with the
+      improvement, his temper became a little better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But one Saturday, when I had run down to Bath without writing beforehand,
+      I suddenly found a different state of things. In Orange Grove I met Dr.
+      Mackrill, the Major&rsquo;s medical man; he used now and then to play whist with
+      us on Saturday nights, and I stopped to speak to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! you&rsquo;ve come down again. That&rsquo;s all right!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Your friend
+      wants someone to cheer him up. He&rsquo;s got his arm broken.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How on earth did he manage that?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that&rsquo;s more than I can tell you,&rdquo; said the Doctor, with an odd look
+      in his eyes, as if he guessed more than he would put into words. &ldquo;All that
+      I could get out of him was that it was done accidentally. The Major is not
+      so well&mdash;no whist for us to-night, I&rsquo;m afraid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He passed on, and I made my way to Gay Street. There was an air of mystery
+      about the quaint old landlady; she looked brimful of news when she opened
+      the door to me, but she managed to &lsquo;keep herself to herself,&rsquo; and showed
+      me in upon the Major and Derrick, rather triumphantly I thought. The Major
+      looked terribly ill&mdash;worse than I had ever seen him, and as for
+      Derrick, he had the strangest look of shrinking and shame-facedness you
+      ever saw. He said he was glad to see me, but I knew that he lied. He would
+      have given anything to have kept me away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Broken your arm?&rdquo; I exclaimed, feeling bound to take some notice of the
+      sling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he replied; &ldquo;met with an accident to it. But luckily it&rsquo;s only the
+      left one, so it doesn&rsquo;t hinder me much! I have finished seven chapters of
+      the last volume of &lsquo;Lynwood,&rsquo; and was just wanting to ask you a legal
+      question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All this time his eyes bore my scrutiny defiantly; they seemed to dare me
+      to say one other word about the broken arm. I didn&rsquo;t dare&mdash;indeed to
+      this day I have never mentioned the subject to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But that evening, while he was helping the Major to bed, the old landlady
+      made some pretext for toiling up to the top of the house, where I sat
+      smoking in Derrick&rsquo;s room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll excuse my making bold to speak to you, sir,&rdquo; she said. I threw
+      down my newspaper, and, looking up, saw that she was bubbling over with
+      some story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; I said, encouragingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s about Mr. Vaughan, sir, I wanted to speak to you. I really do think,
+      sir, it&rsquo;s not safe he should be left alone with his father, sir, any
+      longer. Such doings as we had here the other day, sir! Somehow or other&mdash;and
+      none of us can&rsquo;t think how&mdash;the Major had managed to get hold of a
+      bottle of brandy. How he had it I don&rsquo;t know; but we none of us suspected
+      him, and in the afternoon he says he was too poorly to go for a drive or
+      to go out in his chair, and settles off on the parlour sofa for a nap
+      while Mr. Vaughan goes out for a walk. Mr. Vaughan was out a couple of
+      hours. I heard him come in and go into the sitting-room; then there came
+      sounds of voices, and a scuffling of feet and moving of chairs, and I knew
+      something was wrong and hurried up to the door&mdash;and just then came a
+      crash like fire-irons, and I could hear the Major a-swearing fearful. Not
+      hearing a sound from Mr. Vaughan, I got scared, sir, and opened the door,
+      and there I saw the Major a leaning up against the mantelpiece as drunk as
+      a lord, and his son seemed to have got the bottle from him; it was half
+      empty, and when he saw me he just handed it to me and ordered me to take
+      it away. Then between us we got the Major to lie down on the sofa and left
+      him there. When we got out into the passage Mr. Vaughan he leant against
+      the wall for a minute, looking as white as a sheet, and then I noticed for
+      the first time that his left arm was hanging down at his side. &lsquo;Lord!
+      sir,&rsquo; I cried, &lsquo;your arm&rsquo;s broken.&rsquo; And he went all at once as red as he
+      had been pale just before, and said he had got it done accidentally, and
+      bade me say nothing about it, and walked off there and then to the
+      doctor&rsquo;s, and had it set. But sir, given a man drunk as the Major was, and
+      given a scuffle to get away the drink that was poisoning him, and given a
+      crash such as I heard, and given a poker a-lying in the middle of the room
+      where it stands to reason no poker could get unless it was thrown&mdash;why,
+      sir, no sensible woman who can put two and two together can doubt that it
+      was all the Major&rsquo;s doing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;that is clear enough; but for Mr. Vaughan&rsquo;s sake we must
+      hush it up; and, as for safety, why, the Major is hardly strong enough to
+      do him any worse damage than that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The good old thing wiped away a tear from her eyes. She was very fond of
+      Derrick, and it went to her heart that he should lead such a dog&rsquo;s life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I said what I could to comfort her, and she went down again, fearful lest
+      he should discover her upstairs and guess that she had opened her heart to
+      me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Poor Derrick! That he of all people on earth should be mixed up with such
+      a police court story&mdash;with drunkard, and violence, and pokers
+      figuring in it! I lay back in the camp chair and looked at Hoffman&rsquo;s
+      &lsquo;Christ,&rsquo; and thought of all the extraordinary problems that one is for
+      ever coming across in life. And I wondered whether the people of Bath who
+      saw the tall, impassive-looking, hazel-eyed son and the invalid father in
+      their daily pilgrimages to the Pump Room, or in church on Sunday, or in
+      the Park on sunny afternoons had the least notion of the tragedy that was
+      going on. My reflections were interrupted by his entrance. He had forced
+      up a cheerfulness that I am sure he didn&rsquo;t really feel, and seemed afraid
+      of letting our talk flag for a moment. I remember, too, that for the first
+      time he offered to read me his novel, instead of as usual waiting for me
+      to ask to hear it. I can see him now, fetching the untidy portfolio and
+      turning over the pages, adroitly enough, as though anxious to show how
+      immaterial was the loss of a left arm. That night I listened to the first
+      half of the third volume of &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s Heritage,&rsquo; and couldn&rsquo;t help
+      reflecting that its author seemed to thrive on misery; and yet how I
+      grudged him to this deadly-lively place, and this monotonous, cooped-up
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you manage to write one-handed?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he sat down to his desk, put a letter-weight on the left-hand corner
+      of the sheet of foolscap, and wrote that comical first paragraph of the
+      eighth chapter over which we have all laughed. I suppose few readers
+      guessed the author&rsquo;s state of mind when he wrote it. I looked over his
+      shoulder to see what he had written, and couldn&rsquo;t help laughing aloud&mdash;I
+      verily believe that it was his way of turning off attention from his arm,
+      and leading me safely from the region of awkward questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By-the-by,&rdquo; I exclaimed, &ldquo;your writing of garden-parties reminds me. I
+      went to one at Campden Hill the other day, and had the good fortune to
+      meet Miss Freda Merrifield.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      How his face lighted up, poor fellow, and what a flood of questions he
+      poured out. &ldquo;She looked very well and very pretty,&rdquo; I replied. &ldquo;I played
+      two sets of tennis with her. She asked after you directly she saw me,
+      seeming to think that we always hunted in couples. I told her you were
+      living here, taking care of an invalid father; but just then up came the
+      others to arrange the game. She and I got the best courts, and as we
+      crossed over to them she told me she had met your brother several times
+      last autumn, when she had been staying near Aldershot. Odd that he never
+      mentioned her here; but I don&rsquo;t suppose she made much impression on him.
+      She is not at all his style.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you have much more talk with her?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, nothing to be called talk. She told me they were leaving London next
+      week, and she was longing to get back to the country to her beloved
+      animals&mdash;rabbits, poultry, an aviary, and all that kind of thing. I
+      should gather that they had kept her rather in the background this season,
+      but I understand that the eldest sister is to be married in the winter,
+      and then no doubt Miss Freda will be brought forward.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He seemed wonderfully cheered by this opportune meeting, and though there
+      was so little to tell he appeared to be quite content. I left him on
+      Monday in fairly good spirits, and did not come across him again till
+      September, when his arm was well, and his novel finished and revised. He
+      never made two copies of his work, and I fancy this was perhaps because he
+      spent so short a time each day in actual writing, and lived so continually
+      in his work; moreover, as I said before, he detested penmanship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The last part of &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo; far exceeded my expectations; perhaps&mdash;yet
+      I don&rsquo;t really think so&mdash;I viewed it too favourably. But I owed the
+      book a debt of gratitude, since it certainly helped me through the worst
+      part of my life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you feel flat now it is finished?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I felt so miserable that I had to plunge into another story three days
+      after,&rdquo; he replied; and then and there he gave me the sketch of his second
+      novel, &lsquo;At Strife,&rsquo; and told me how he meant to weave in his childish
+      fancies about the defence of the bridge in the Civil Wars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And about &lsquo;Lynwood?&rsquo; Are you coming up to town to hawk him round?&rdquo; I
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t do that,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;you see I am tied here. No, I must send him
+      off by rail, and let him take his chance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No such thing!&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;If you can&rsquo;t leave Bath I will take him round
+      for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Derrick, who with the oddest inconsistency would let his MS. lie about
+      anyhow at home, but hated the thought of sending it out alone on its
+      travels, gladly accepted my offer. So next week I set off with the huge
+      brown paper parcel; few, however, will appreciate my good nature, for no
+      one but an author or a publisher knows the fearful weight of a three
+      volume novel in MS.! To my intense satisfaction I soon got rid of it, for
+      the first good firm to which I took it received it with great politeness,
+      to be handed over to their &lsquo;reader&rsquo; for an opinion; and apparently the
+      &lsquo;reader&rsquo;s&rsquo; opinion coincided with mine, for a month later Derrick received
+      an offer for it with which he at once closed&mdash;not because it was a
+      good one, but because the firm was well thought of, and because he wished
+      to lose no time, but to have the book published at once. I happened to be
+      there when his first &lsquo;proofs&rsquo; arrived. The Major had had an attack of
+      jaundice, and was in a fiendish humour. We had a miserable time of it at
+      dinner, for he badgered Derrick almost past bearing, and I think the poor
+      old fellow minded it more when there was a third person present. Somehow
+      through all he managed to keep his extraordinary capacity for reverencing
+      mere age&mdash;even this degraded and detestable old age of the Major&rsquo;s. I
+      often thought that in this he was like my own ancestor, Hugo Wharncliffe,
+      whose deference and respectfulness and patience had not descended to me,
+      while unfortunately the effects of his physical infirmities had. I
+      sometimes used to reflect bitterly enough on the truth of Herbert
+      Spencer&rsquo;s teaching as to heredity, so clearly shown in my own case. In the
+      year 1683, through the abominable cruelty and harshness of his brother
+      Randolph, this Hugo Wharncliffe, my great-great-great-great-great
+      grandfather, was immured in Newgate, and his constitution was thereby so
+      much impaired and enfeebled that, two hundred years after, my constitution
+      is paying the penalty, and my whole life is thereby changed and thwarted.
+      Hence this childless Randolph is affecting the course of several lives in
+      the 19th century to their grievous hurt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But revenons a nos moutons&mdash;that is to say, to our lion and lamb&mdash;the
+      old brute of a Major and his long-suffering son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the table was being cleared, the Major took forty winks on the sofa,
+      and we two beat a retreat, lit up our pipes in the passage, and were just
+      turning out when the postman&rsquo;s double knock came, but no showers of
+      letters in the box. Derrick threw open the door, and the man handed him a
+      fat, stumpy-looking roll in a pink wrapper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say!&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;PROOFS!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, in hot haste, he began tearing away the pink paper, till out came the
+      clean, folded bits of printing and the dirty and dishevelled blue
+      foolscap, the look of which I knew so well. It is an odd feeling, that
+      first seeing one&rsquo;s self in print, and I could guess, even then, what a
+      thrill shot through Derrick as he turned over the pages. But he would not
+      take them into the sitting-room, no doubt dreading another diatribe
+      against his profession; and we solemnly played euchre, and patiently
+      endured the Major&rsquo;s withering sarcasms till ten o&rsquo;clock sounded our happy
+      release.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, to make a long story short, a month later&mdash;that is, at the
+      end of November&mdash;&lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s Heritage&rsquo; was published in three volumes
+      with maroon cloth and gilt lettering. Derrick had distributed among his
+      friends the publishers&rsquo; announcement of the day of publication; and when
+      it was out I besieged the libraries for it, always expressing surprise if
+      I did not find it in their lists. Then began the time of reviews. As I had
+      expected, they were extremely favourable, with the exception of the
+      Herald, the Stroller, and the Hour, which made it rather hot for him, the
+      latter in particular pitching into his views and assuring its readers that
+      the book was &lsquo;dangerous,&rsquo; and its author a believer in&mdash;various thing
+      especially repugnant to Derrick, at it happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I was with him when he read these reviews. Over the cleverness of the
+      satirical attack in the Weekly Herald he laughed heartily, though the
+      laugh was against himself; and as to the critic who wrote in the Stroller
+      it was apparent to all who knew &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo; that he had not read much of the
+      book; but over this review in the Hour he was genuinely angry&mdash;it
+      hurt him personally, and, as it afterwards turned out, played no small
+      part in the story of his life. The good reviews, however, were many, and
+      their recommendation of the book hearty; they all prophesied that it would
+      be a great success. Yet, spite of this, &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s Heritage&rsquo; didn&rsquo;t sell.
+      Was it, as I had feared, that Derrick was too devoid of the pushing
+      faculty ever to make a successful writer? Or was it that he was
+      handicapped by being down in the provinces playing keeper to that
+      abominable old bear? Anyhow, the book was well received, read with
+      enthusiasm by an extremely small circle, and then it dropped down to the
+      bottom among the mass of overlooked literature, and its career seemed to
+      be over. I can recall the look in Derrick&rsquo;s face when one day he glanced
+      through the new Mudie and Smith lists and found &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s Heritage&rsquo; no
+      longer down. I had been trying to cheer him up about the book and quoting
+      all the favourable remarks I had heard about it. But unluckily this was
+      damning evidence against my optimist view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sighed heavily and put down the lists.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s no use to deceive one&rsquo;s self,&rdquo; he said, drearily, &ldquo;&lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo; has
+      failed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Something in the deep depression of look and tone gave me a momentary
+      insight into the author&rsquo;s heart. He thought, I know, of the agony of mind
+      this book had cost him; of those long months of waiting and their deadly
+      struggle, of the hopes which had made all he passed through seem so well
+      worth while; and the bitterness of the disappointment was no doubt
+      intensified by the knowledge that the Major would rejoice over it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We walked that afternoon along the Bradford Valley, a road which Derrick
+      was specially fond of. He loved the thickly-wooded hills, and the glimpses
+      of the Avon, which, flanked by the canal and the railway, runs parallel
+      with the high road; he always admired, too, a certain little village with
+      grey stone cottages which lay in this direction, and liked to look at the
+      site of the old hall near the road: nothing remained of it but the tall
+      gate posts and rusty iron gates looking strangely dreary and deserted, and
+      within one could see, between some dark yew trees, an old terrace walk
+      with stone steps and balustrades&mdash;the most ghostly-looking place you
+      can conceive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know you&rsquo;ll put this into a book some day,&rdquo; I said, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is already beginning to simmer in my brain.&rdquo;
+       Apparently his deep disappointment as to his first venture had in no way
+      affected his perfectly clear consciousness that, come what would, he had
+      to write.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As we walked back to Bath he told me his &lsquo;Ruined Hall&rsquo; story as far as it
+      had yet evolved itself in his brain, and we were still discussing it when
+      in Milsom Street we met a boy crying evening papers, and details of the
+      last great battle at Saspataras Hill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick broke off hastily, everything but anxiety for Lawrence driven from
+      his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter VI.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Say not, O Soul, thou art defeated,
+        Because thou art distressed;
+      If thou of better thing art cheated,
+        Thou canst not be of best.&rdquo;
+                               T. T. Lynch.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens, Sydney!&rdquo; he exclaimed in great excitement and with his
+      whole face aglow with pleasure, &ldquo;look here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pointed to a few lines in the paper which mentioned the heroic conduct
+      of Lieutenant L. Vaughan, who at the risk of his life had rescued a
+      brother officer when surrounded by the enemy and completely disabled.
+      Lieutenant Vaughan had managed to mount the wounded man on his own horse
+      and had miraculously escaped himself with nothing worse than a
+      sword-thrust in the left arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We went home in triumph to the Major, and Derrick read the whole account
+      aloud. With all his detestation of war, he was nevertheless greatly
+      stirred by the description of the gallant defence of the attacked position&mdash;and
+      for a time we were all at one, and could talk of nothing but Lawrence&rsquo;s
+      heroism, and Victoria Crosses, and the prospects of peace. However, all
+      too soon, the Major&rsquo;s fiendish temper returned, and he began to use the
+      event of the day as a weapon against Derrick, continually taunting him
+      with the contrast between his stay-at-home life of scribbling and
+      Lawrence&rsquo;s life of heroic adventure. I could never make out whether he
+      wanted to goad his son into leaving him, in order that he might drink
+      himself to death in peace, or whether he merely indulged in his natural
+      love of tormenting, valuing Derrick&rsquo;s devotion as conducive to his own
+      comfort, and knowing that hard words would not drive him from what he
+      deemed to be his duty. I rather incline to the latter view, but the old
+      Major was always an enigma to me; nor can I to this day make out his
+      raison-d&rsquo;etre, except on the theory that the training of a novelist
+      required a course of slow torture, and that the old man was sent into the
+      world to be a sort of thorn in the flesh of Derrick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What with the disappointment about his first book, and the difficulty of
+      writing his second, the fierce craving for Freda&rsquo;s presence, the struggle
+      not to allow his admiration for Lawrence&rsquo;s bravery to become poisoned by
+      envy under the influence of the Major&rsquo;s incessant attacks, Derrick had
+      just then a hard time of it. He never complained, but I noticed a great
+      change in him; his melancholy increased, his flashes of humour and
+      merriment became fewer and fewer&mdash;I began to be afraid that he would
+      break down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For God&rsquo;s sake!&rdquo; I exclaimed one evening when left alone with the Doctor
+      after an evening of whist, &ldquo;do order the Major to London. Derrick has been
+      mewed up here with him for nearly two years, and I don&rsquo;t think he can
+      stand it much longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So the Doctor kindly contrived to advise the Major to consult a well-known
+      London physician, and to spend a fortnight in town, further suggesting
+      that a month at Ben Rhydding might be enjoyable before settling down at
+      Bath again for the winter. Luckily the Major took to the idea, and just as
+      Lawrence returned from the war Derrick and his father arrived in town. The
+      change seemed likely to work well, and I was able now and then to release
+      my friend and play cribbage with the old man for an hour or two while
+      Derrick tore about London, interviewed his publisher, made researches into
+      seventeenth century documents at the British Museum, and somehow managed
+      in his rapid way to acquire those glimpses of life and character which he
+      afterwards turned to such good account. All was grist that came to his
+      mill, and at first the mere sight of his old home, London, seemed to
+      revive him. Of course at the very first opportunity he called at the
+      Probyns&rsquo;, and we both of us had an invitation to go there on the following
+      Wednesday to see the march past of the troops and to lunch. Derrick was
+      nearly beside himself at the prospect, for he knew that he should
+      certainly meet Freda at last, and the mingled pain and bliss of being
+      actually in the same place with her, yet as completely separated as if
+      seas rolled between them, was beginning to try him terribly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime Lawrence had turned up again, greatly improved in every way by
+      all that he had lived through, but rather too ready to fall in with his
+      father&rsquo;s tone towards Derrick. The relations between the two brothers&mdash;always
+      a little peculiar&mdash;became more and more difficult, and the Major
+      seemed to enjoy pitting them against each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length the day of the review arrived. Derrick was not looking well, his
+      eyes were heavy with sleeplessness, and the Major had been unusually
+      exasperating at breakfast that morning, so that he started with a jaded,
+      worn-out feeling that would not wholly yield even to the excitement of
+      this long-expected meeting with Freda. When he found himself in the great
+      drawing-room at Lord Probyn&rsquo;s house, amid a buzz of talk and a crowd of
+      strange faces, he was seized with one of those sudden attacks of shyness
+      to which he was always liable. In fact, he had been so long alone with the
+      old Major that this plunge into society was too great a reaction, and the
+      very thing he had longed for became a torture to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Freda was at the other end of the room talking to Keith Collins, the
+      well-known member for Codrington, whose curious but attractive face was
+      known to all the world through the caricatures of it in &lsquo;Punch.&rsquo; I knew
+      that she saw Derrick, and that he instantly perceived her, and that a
+      miserable sense of separation, of distance, of hopelessness overwhelmed
+      him as he looked. After all, it was natural enough. For two years he had
+      thought of Freda night and day; in his unutterably dreary life her memory
+      had been his refreshment, his solace, his companion. Now he was suddenly
+      brought face to face, not with the Freda of his dreams, but with a
+      fashionable, beautifully dressed, much-sought girl, and he felt that a
+      gulf lay between them; it was the gulf of experience. Freda&rsquo;s life in
+      society, the whirl of gaiety, the excitement and success which she had
+      been enjoying throughout the season, and his miserable monotony of
+      companionship with his invalid father, of hard work and weary
+      disappointment, had broken down the bond of union that had once existed
+      between them. From either side they looked at each other&mdash;Freda with
+      a wondering perplexity, Derrick with a dull grinding pain at his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of course they spoke to each other; but I fancy the merest platitudes
+      passed between them. Somehow they had lost touch, and a crowded London
+      drawing-room was hardly the place to regain it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So your novel is really out,&rdquo; I heard her say to him in that deep, clear
+      voice of hers. &ldquo;I like the design on the cover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, have you read the book?&rdquo; said Derrick, colouring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, no,&rdquo; she said truthfully. &ldquo;I wanted to read it, but my father
+      wouldn&rsquo;t let me&mdash;he is very particular about what we read.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That frank but not very happily worded answer was like a stab to poor
+      Derrick. He had given to the world then a book that was not fit for her to
+      read! This &lsquo;Lynwood,&rsquo; which had been written with his own heart&rsquo;s blood,
+      was counted a dangerous, poisonous thing, from which she must be guarded!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Freda must have seen that she had hurt him, for she tried hard to retrieve
+      her words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was tantalising to have it actually in the house, wasn&rsquo;t it? I have a
+      grudge against the Hour, for it was the review in that which set my father
+      against it.&rdquo; Then rather anxious to leave the difficult subject&mdash;&ldquo;And
+      has your brother quite recovered from his wound?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I think she was a little vexed that Derrick did not show more animation in
+      his replies about Lawrence&rsquo;s adventures during the war; the less he
+      responded the more enthusiastic she became, and I am perfectly sure that
+      in her heart she was thinking:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is jealous of his brother&rsquo;s fame&mdash;I am disappointed in him. He
+      has grown dull, and absent, and stupid, and he is dreadfully wanting in
+      small-talk. I fear that his life down in the provinces is turning him into
+      a bear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She brought the conversation back to his book; but there was a little
+      touch of scorn in her voice, as if she thought to herself, &ldquo;I suppose he
+      is one of those people who can only talk on one subject&mdash;his own
+      doings.&rdquo; Her manner was almost brusque.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your novel has had a great success, has it not?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He instantly perceived her thought, and replied with a touch of dignity
+      and a proud smile:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary, it has been a great failure; only three hundred and nine
+      copies have been sold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder at that,&rdquo; said Freda, &ldquo;for one so often heard it talked of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He promptly changed the topic, and began to speak of the march past. &ldquo;I
+      want to see Lord Starcross,&rdquo; he added. &ldquo;I have no idea what a hero is
+      like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just then Lady Probyn came up, followed by an elderly harpy in spectacles
+      and false, much-frizzed fringe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Carsteen wishes to be introduced to you, Mr. Vaughan; she is a great
+      admirer of your writings.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And poor Derrick, who was then quite unused to the species, had to stand
+      and receive a flood of the most fulsome flattery, delivered in a strident
+      voice, and to bear the critical and prolonged stare of the spectacled
+      eyes. Nor would the harpy easily release her prey. She kept him much
+      against his will, and I saw him looking wistfully now and then towards
+      Freda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It amuses me,&rdquo; I said to her, &ldquo;that Derrick Vaughan should be so anxious
+      to see Lord Starcross. It reminds me of Charles Lamb&rsquo;s anxiety to see
+      Kosciusko, &lsquo;for,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;I have never seen a hero; I wonder how they
+      look,&rsquo; while all the time he himself was living a life of heroic
+      self-sacrifice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Vaughan, I should think, need only look at his own brother,&rdquo; said
+      Freda, missing the drift of my speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I longed to tell her what it was possible to tell of Derrick&rsquo;s life, but
+      at that moment Sir Richard Merrifield introduced to his daughter a girl in
+      a huge hat and great flopping sleeves, Miss Isaacson, whose picture at the
+      Grosvenor had been so much talked of. Now the little artist knew no one in
+      the room, and Freda saw fit to be extremely friendly to her. She was
+      introduced to me, and I did my best to talk to her and set Freda at
+      liberty as soon as the harpy had released Derrick; but my endeavours were
+      frustrated, for Miss Isaacson, having looked me well over, decided that I
+      was not at all intense, but a mere commonplace, slightly cynical
+      worldling, and having exchanged a few lukewarm remarks with me, she
+      returned to Freda, and stuck to her like a bur for the rest of the time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We stood out on the balcony to see the troops go by. It was a fine sight,
+      and we all became highly enthusiastic. Freda enjoyed the mere pageant like
+      a child, and was delighted with the horses. She looked now more like the
+      Freda of the yacht, and I wished that Derrick could be near her; but, as
+      ill-luck would have it, he was at some distance, hemmed in by an
+      impassable barrier of eager spectators.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lawrence Vaughan rode past, looking wonderfully well in his uniform. He
+      was riding a spirited bay, which took Freda&rsquo;s fancy amazingly, though she
+      reserved her chief enthusiasm for Lord Starcross and his steed. It was not
+      until all was over, and we had returned to the drawing-room, that Derrick
+      managed to get the talk with Freda for which I knew he was longing, and
+      then they were fated, apparently, to disagree. I was standing near and
+      overheard the close of their talk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do believe you must be a member of the Peace Society!&rdquo; said Freda
+      impatiently. &ldquo;Or perhaps you have turned Quaker. But I want to introduce
+      you to my god-father, Mr. Fleming; you know it was his son whom your
+      brother saved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And I heard Derrick being introduced as the brother of the hero of
+      Saspataras Hill; and the next day he received a card for one of Mrs.
+      Fleming&rsquo;s receptions, Lawrence having previously been invited to dine
+      there on the same night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What happened at that party I never exactly understood. All I could gather
+      was that Lawrence had been tremendously feted, that Freda had been
+      present, and that poor old Derrick was as miserable as he could be when I
+      next saw him. Putting two and two together, I guessed that he had been
+      tantalised by a mere sight of her, possibly tortured by watching more
+      favoured men enjoying long tete-a-tetes; but he would say little or
+      nothing about it, and when, soon after, he and the Major left London, I
+      feared that the fortnight had done my friend harm instead of good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter VII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Then in that hour rejoice, since only thus
+      Can thy proud heart grow wholly piteous.
+      Thus only to the world thy speech can flow
+      Charged with the sad authority of woe.
+      Since no man nurtured in the shade can sing
+      To a true note one psalm of conquering;
+      Warriors must chant it whom our own eyes see
+      Red from the battle and more bruised than we,
+      Men who have borne the worst, have known the whole,
+      Have felt the last abeyance of the soul.&rdquo;
+                                      F. W. H. Myers.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      About the beginning of August, I rejoined him at Ben Rhydding. The place
+      suited the Major admirably, and his various baths took up so great a part
+      of each day, that Derrick had more time to himself than usual, and &lsquo;At
+      Strife&rsquo; got on rapidly. He much enjoyed, too, the beautiful country round,
+      while the hotel itself, with its huge gathering of all sorts and
+      conditions of people, afforded him endless studies of character. The Major
+      breakfasted in his own room, and, being so much engrossed with his baths,
+      did not generally appear till twelve. Derrick and I breakfasted in the
+      great dining-hall; and one morning, when the meal was over, we, as usual,
+      strolled into the drawing-room to see if there were any letters awaiting
+      us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One for you,&rdquo; I remarked, handing him a thick envelope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From Lawrence!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, don&rsquo;t read it in here; the Doctor will be coming to read prayers.
+      Come out in the garden,&rdquo; I said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We went out into the beautiful grounds, and he tore open the envelope and
+      began to read his letter as we walked. All at once I felt the arm which
+      was linked in mine give a quick, involuntary movement, and, looking up,
+      saw that Derrick had turned deadly pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s up?&rdquo; I said. But he read on without replying; and, when I paused
+      and sat down on a sheltered rustic seat, he unconsciously followed my
+      example, looking more like a sleep-walker than a man in the possession of
+      all his faculties. At last he finished the letter, and looked up in a
+      dazed, miserable way, letting his eyes wander over the fir-trees and the
+      fragrant shrubs and the flowers by the path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear old fellow, what is the matter?&rdquo; I asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The words seemed to rouse him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A dreadful look passed over his face&mdash;the look of one stricken to the
+      heart. But his voice was perfectly calm, and full of a ghastly
+      self-control.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Freda will be my sister-in-law,&rdquo; he said, rather as if stating the fact
+      to himself than answering my question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;What do you mean? How could&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As if to silence me he thrust the letter into my hand. It ran as follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Derrick,&mdash;For the last few days I have been down in the
+      Flemings&rsquo; place in Derbyshire, and fortune has favoured me, for the
+      Merrifields are here too. Now prepare yourself for a surprise. Break the
+      news to the governor, and send me your heartiest congratulations by return
+      of post. I am engaged to Freda Merrifield, and am the happiest fellow in
+      the world. They are awfully fastidious sort of people, and I do not
+      believe Sir Richard would have consented to such a match had it not been
+      for that lucky impulse which made me rescue Dick Fleming. It has all been
+      arranged very quickly, as these things should be, but we have seen a good
+      deal of each other&mdash;first at Aldershot the year before last, and just
+      lately in town, and now these four days down here&mdash;and days in a
+      country house are equal to weeks elsewhere. I enclose a letter to my
+      father&mdash;give it to him at a suitable moment&mdash;but, after all,
+      he&rsquo;s sure to approve of a daughter-in-law with such a dowry as Miss
+      Merrifield is likely to have.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours affly.,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lawrence Vaughan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I gave him back the letter without a word. In dead silence we moved on,
+      took a turning which led to a little narrow gate, and passed out of the
+      grounds to the wild moorland country beyond.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After all, Freda was in no way to blame. As a mere girl she had allowed
+      Derrick to see that she cared for him; then circumstances had entirely
+      separated them; she saw more of the world, met Lawrence, was perhaps first
+      attracted to him by his very likeness to Derrick, and finally fell in love
+      with the hero of the season, whom every one delighted to honour. Nor could
+      one blame Lawrence, who had no notion that he had supplanted his brother.
+      All the blame lay with the Major&rsquo;s slavery to drink, for if only he had
+      remained out in India I feel sure that matters would have gone quite
+      differently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We tramped on over heather and ling and springy turf till we reached the
+      old ruin known as the Hunting Tower; then Derrick seemed to awake to the
+      recollection of present things. He looked at his watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go back to my father,&rdquo; he said, for the first time breaking the
+      silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall do no such thing!&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;Stay out here and I will see to
+      the Major, and give him the letter too if you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He caught at the suggestion, and as he thanked me I think there were tears
+      in his eyes. So I took the letter and set off for Ben Rhydding, leaving
+      him to get what relief he could from solitude, space, and absolute quiet.
+      Once I just glanced back, and somehow the scene has always lingered in my
+      memory&mdash;the great stretch of desolate moor, the dull crimson of the
+      heather, the lowering grey clouds, the Hunting Tower a patch of deeper
+      gloom against the gloomy sky, and Derrick&rsquo;s figure prostrate, on the turf,
+      the face hidden, the hands grasping at the sprigs of heather growing near.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Major was just ready to be helped into the garden when I reached the
+      hotel. We sat down in the very same place where Derrick had read the news,
+      and, when I judged it politic, I suddenly remembered with apologies the
+      letter that had been entrusted to me. The old man received it with
+      satisfaction, for he was fond of Lawrence and proud of him, and the news
+      of the engagement pleased him greatly. He was still discussing it when,
+      two hours later, Derrick returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s good news!&rdquo; said the Major, glancing up as his son approached.
+      &ldquo;Trust Lawrence to fall on his feet! He tells me the girl will have a
+      thousand a year. You know her, don&rsquo;t you? What&rsquo;s she like?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have met her,&rdquo; replied Derrick, with forced composure. &ldquo;She is very
+      charming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lawrence has all his wits about him,&rdquo; growled the Major. &ldquo;Whereas you&mdash;&rdquo;
+       (several oaths interjected). &ldquo;It will be a long while before any girl with
+      a dowry will look at you! What women like is a bold man of action; what
+      they despise, mere dabblers in pen and ink, writers of poisonous
+      sensational tales such as yours! I&rsquo;m quoting your own reviewers, so you
+      needn&rsquo;t contradict me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Of course no one had dreamt of contradicting; it would have been the worst
+      possible policy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall I help you in?&rdquo; said Derrick. &ldquo;It is just dinner time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And as I walked beside them to the hotel, listening to the Major&rsquo;s flood
+      of irritating words, and glancing now and then at Derrick&rsquo;s grave,
+      resolute face, which successfully masked such bitter suffering, I couldn&rsquo;t
+      help reflecting that here was courage infinitely more deserving of the
+      Victoria Cross than Lawrence&rsquo;s impulsive rescue. Very patiently he sat
+      through the long dinner. I doubt if any but an acute observer could have
+      told that he was in trouble; and, luckily, the world in general observes
+      hardly at all. He endured the Major till it was time for him to take a
+      Turkish bath, and then having two hours&rsquo; freedom, climbed with me up the
+      rock-covered hill at the back of the hotel. He was very silent. But I
+      remember that, as we watched the sun go down&mdash;a glowing crimson ball,
+      half veiled in grey mist&mdash;he said abruptly, &ldquo;If Lawrence makes her
+      happy I can bear it. And of course I always knew that I was not worthy of
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick&rsquo;s room was a large, gaunt, ghostly place in one of the towers of
+      the hotel, and in one corner of it was a winding stair leading to the
+      roof. When I went in next morning I found him writing away at his novel
+      just as usual, but when I looked at him it seemed to me that the night had
+      aged him fearfully. As a rule, he took interruptions as a matter of
+      course, and with perfect sweetness of temper; but to-day he seemed unable
+      to drag himself back to the outer world. He was writing at a desperate
+      pace too, and frowned when I spoke to him. I took up the sheet of foolscap
+      which he had just finished and glanced at the number of the page&mdash;evidently
+      he had written an immense quantity since the previous day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will knock yourself up if you go on at this rate!&rdquo; I exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; he said sharply. &ldquo;You know it never tires me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yet, all the same, he passed his hand very wearily over his forehead, and
+      stretched himself with the air of one who had been in a cramping position
+      for many hours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have broken your vow!&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;You have been writing at night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;it was morning when I began&mdash;three o&rsquo;clock. And it
+      pays better to get up and write than to lie awake thinking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Judging by the speed with which the novel grew in the next few weeks, I
+      could tell that Derrick&rsquo;s nights were of the worst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He began, too, to look very thin and haggard, and I more than once noticed
+      that curious &lsquo;sleep-walking&rsquo; expression in his eyes; he seemed to me just
+      like a man who has received his death-blow, yet still lingers&mdash;half
+      alive, half dead. I had an odd feeling that it was his novel which kept
+      him going, and I began to wonder what would happen when it was finished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A month later, when I met him again at Bath, he had written the last
+      chapter of &lsquo;At Strife,&rsquo; and we read it over the sitting-room fire on
+      Saturday evening. I was very much struck with the book; it seemed to me a
+      great advance on &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s Heritage,&rsquo; and the part which he had written
+      since that day at Ben Rhydding was full of an indescribable power, as if
+      the life of which he had been robbed had flowed into his work. When he had
+      done, he tied up the MS. in his usual prosaic fashion, just as if it had
+      been a bundle of clothes, and put it on a side table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was arranged that I should take it to Davison&mdash;the publisher of
+      &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s Heritage&rsquo;&mdash;on Monday, and see what offer he would make for
+      it. Just at that time I felt so sorry for Derrick that if he had asked me
+      to hawk round fifty novels I would have done it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sunday morning proved wet and dismal; as a rule the Major, who was fond of
+      music, attended service at the Abbey, but the weather forced him now to
+      stay at home. I myself was at that time no church-goer, but Derrick would,
+      I verily believe, as soon have fasted a week as have given up a Sunday
+      morning service; and having no mind to be left to the Major&rsquo;s company, and
+      a sort of wish to be near my friend, I went with him. I believe it is not
+      correct to admire Bath Abbey, but for all that &lsquo;the lantern of the west&rsquo; 
+      has always seemed to me a grand place; as for Derrick, he had a horror of
+      a &lsquo;dim religious light,&rsquo; and always stuck up for his huge windows, and I
+      believe he loved the Abbey with all his heart. Indeed, taking it only from
+      a sensuous point of view, I could quite imagine what a relief he found his
+      weekly attendance here; by contrast with his home the place was Heaven
+      itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As we walked back, I asked a question that had long been in my mind: &ldquo;Have
+      you seen anything of Lawrence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He saw us across London on our way from Ben Rhydding,&rdquo; said Derrick,
+      steadily. &ldquo;Freda came with him, and my father was delighted with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I wondered how they had got through the meeting, but of course my
+      curiosity had to go unsatisfied. Of one thing I might be certain, namely,
+      that Derrick had gone through with it like a Trojan, that he had smiled
+      and congratulated in his quiet way, and had done the best to efface
+      himself and think only of Freda. But as everyone knows:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Face joy&rsquo;s a costly mask to wear,
+      &lsquo;Tis bought with pangs long nourished
+      And rounded to despair;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      and he looked now even more worn and old than he had done at Ben Rhydding
+      in the first days of his trouble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, he turned resolutely away from the subject I had introduced and
+      began to discuss titles for his novel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s impossible to find anything new,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;absolutely impossible. I
+      declare I shall take to numbers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I laughed at this prosaic notion, and we were still discussing the title
+      when we reached home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t say anything about it at lunch,&rdquo; he said as we entered. &ldquo;My father
+      detests my writing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I nodded assent and opened the sitting-room door&mdash;a strong smell of
+      brandy instantly became apparent; the Major sat in the green velvet chair,
+      which had been wheeled close to the hearth. He was drunk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick gave an ejaculation of utter hopelessness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This will undo all the good of Ben Rhydding!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;How on earth has
+      he managed to get it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Major, however, was not so far gone as he looked; he caught up the
+      remark and turned towards us with a hideous laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s the question. But the old man has still some
+      brains, you see. I&rsquo;ll be even with you yet, Derrick. You needn&rsquo;t think
+      you&rsquo;re to have it all your own way. It&rsquo;s my turn now. You&rsquo;ve deprived me
+      all this time of the only thing I care for in life, and now I turn the
+      tables on you. Tit for tat. Oh! yes, I&rsquo;ve turned your d&mdash;&mdash;d
+      scribblings to a useful purpose, so you needn&rsquo;t complain!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All this had been shouted out at the top of his voice and freely
+      interlarded with expressions which I will not repeat; at the end he broke
+      again into a laugh, and with a look, half idiotic, half devilish, pointed
+      towards the grate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens!&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;what have you done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      By the side of the chair I saw a piece of brown paper, and, catching it
+      up, read the address&mdash;&ldquo;Messrs. Davison, Paternoster Row&rdquo;; in the
+      fireplace was a huge charred mass. Derrick caught his breath; he stooped
+      down and snatched from the fender a fragment of paper slightly burned, but
+      still not charred beyond recognition like the rest. The writing was quite
+      legible&mdash;it was his own writing&mdash;the description of the
+      Royalists&rsquo; attack and Paul Wharncliffe&rsquo;s defence of the bridge. I looked
+      from the half-burnt scrap of paper to the side table where, only the
+      previous night, we had placed the novel, and then, realising as far as any
+      but an author could realise the frightful thing that had happened, I
+      looked in Derrick&rsquo;s face. Its white fury appalled me. What he had borne
+      hitherto from the Major, God only knows, but this was the last drop in the
+      cup. Daily insults, ceaseless provocation, even the humiliations of
+      personal violence he had borne with superhuman patience; but this last
+      injury, this wantonly cruel outrage, this deliberate destruction of an
+      amount of thought, and labour, and suffering which only the writer himself
+      could fully estimate&mdash;this was intolerable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What might have happened had the Major been sober and in the possession of
+      ordinary physical strength I hardly care to think. As it was, his weakness
+      protected him. Derrick&rsquo;s wrath was speechless; with one look of loathing
+      and contempt at the drunken man, he strode out of the room, caught up his
+      hat, and hurried from the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Major sat chuckling to himself for a minute or two, but soon he grew
+      drowsy, and before long was snoring like a grampus. The old landlady
+      brought in lunch, saw the state of things pretty quickly, shook her head
+      and commiserated Derrick. Then, when she had left the room, seeing no
+      prospect that either of my companions would be in a fit state for lunch, I
+      made a solitary meal, and had just finished when a cab stopped at the door
+      and out sprang Derrick. I went into the passage to meet him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Major is asleep,&rdquo; I remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He took no more notice than if I had spoken of the cat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to London,&rdquo; he said, making for the stairs. &ldquo;Can you get your
+      bag ready? There&rsquo;s a train at 2.5.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Somehow the suddenness and the self-control with which he made this
+      announcement carried me back to the hotel at Southampton, where, after
+      listening to the account of the ship&rsquo;s doctor, he had announced his
+      intention of living with his father. For more than two years he had borne
+      this awful life; he had lost pretty nearly all that there was to be lost
+      and he had gained the Major&rsquo;s vindictive hatred. Now, half maddened by
+      pain, and having, as he thought, so hopelessly failed, he saw nothing for
+      it but to go&mdash;and that at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I packed my bag, and then went to help him. He was cramming all his
+      possessions into portmanteaux and boxes; the Hoffman was already packed,
+      and the wall looked curiously bare without it. Clearly this was no visit
+      to London&mdash;he was leaving Bath for good, and who could wonder at it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have arranged for the attendant from the hospital to come in at night
+      as well as in the morning,&rdquo; he said, as he locked a portmanteau that was
+      stuffed almost to bursting. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the time? We must make haste or we
+      shall lose the train. Do, like a good fellow, cram that heap of things
+      into the carpet-bag while I speak to the landlady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At last we were off, rattling through the quiet streets of Bath, and
+      reaching the station barely in time to rush up the long flight of stairs
+      and spring into an empty carriage. Never shall I forget that journey. The
+      train stopped at every single station, and sometimes in between; we were
+      five mortal hours on the road, and more than once I thought Derrick would
+      have fainted. However, he was not of the fainting order, he only grew more
+      and more ghastly in colour and rigid in expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I felt very anxious about him, for the shock and the sudden anger
+      following on the trouble about Freda seemed to me enough to unhinge even a
+      less sensitive nature. &lsquo;At Strife&rsquo; was the novel which had, I firmly
+      believe, kept him alive through that awful time at Ben Rhydding, and I
+      began to fear that the Major&rsquo;s fit of drunken malice might prove the
+      destruction of the author as well as of the book. Everything had, as it
+      were, come at once on poor Derrick; yet I don&rsquo;t know that he fared worse
+      than other people in this respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Life, unfortunately, is for most of us no well-arranged story with a happy
+      termination; it is a chequered affair of shade and sun, and for one beam
+      of light there come very often wide patches of shadow. Men seem to have
+      known this so far back as Shakespeare&rsquo;s time, and to have observed that
+      one woe trod on another&rsquo;s heels, to have battled not with a single wave,
+      but with a &lsquo;sea of troubles,&rsquo; and to have remarked that &lsquo;sorrows come not
+      singly, but in battalions.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, owing I believe chiefly to his own self-command, and to his
+      untiring faculty for taking infinite pains over his work, Derrick did not
+      break down, but pleasantly cheated my expectations. I was not called on to
+      nurse him through a fever, and consumption did not mark him for her own.
+      In fact, in the matter of illness, he was always a most prosaic,
+      unromantic fellow, and never indulged in any of the euphonious and
+      interesting ailments. In all his life, I believe, he never went in for
+      anything but the mumps&mdash;of all complaints the least interesting&mdash;and,
+      may be, an occasional headache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, all this is a digression. We at length reached London, and
+      Derrick took a room above mine, now and then disturbing me with nocturnal
+      pacings over the creaking boards, but, on the whole, proving himself the
+      best of companions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If I wrote till Doomsday, I could never make you understand how the
+      burning of his novel affected him&mdash;to this day it is a subject I
+      instinctively avoid with him&mdash;though the re-written &lsquo;At Strife&rsquo; has
+      been such a grand success. For he did re-write the story, and that at
+      once. He said little; but the very next morning, in one of the windows of
+      our quiet sitting-room, often enough looking despairingly at the grey
+      monotony of Montague Street, he began at &lsquo;Page I, Chapter I,&rsquo; and so
+      worked patiently on for many months to re-make as far as he could what his
+      drunken father had maliciously destroyed. Beyond the unburnt paragraph
+      about the attack on Mondisfield, he had nothing except a few hastily
+      scribbled ideas in his note-book, and of course the very elaborate and
+      careful historical notes which he had made on the Civil War during many
+      years of reading and research&mdash;for this period had always been a
+      favourite study with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But, as any author will understand, the effort of re-writing was immense,
+      and this, combined with all the other troubles, tried Derrick to the
+      utmost. However, he toiled on, and I have always thought that his
+      resolute, unyielding conduct with regard to that book proved what a man he
+      was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter VIII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;How oft Fate&rsquo;s sharpest blow shall leave thee strong,
+      With some re-risen ecstacy of song.&rdquo;
+                                          F. W. H. Myers.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      As the autumn wore on, we heard now and then from old Mackrill the doctor.
+      His reports of the Major were pretty uniform. Derrick used to hand them
+      over to me when he had read them; but, by tacit consent, the Major&rsquo;s name
+      was never mentioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime, besides re-writing &lsquo;At Strife,&rsquo; he was accumulating material for
+      his next book and working to very good purpose. Not a minute of his day
+      was idle; he read much, saw various phases of life hitherto unknown to
+      him, studied, observed, gained experience, and contrived, I believe, to
+      think very little and very guardedly of Freda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But, on Christmas Eve, I noticed a change in him&mdash;and that very night
+      he spoke to me. For such an impressionable fellow, he had really
+      extraordinary tenacity, and, spite of the course of Herbert Spencer that I
+      had put him through, he retained his unshaken faith in many things which
+      to me were at that time the merest legends. I remember very well the
+      arguments we used to have on the vexed question of &lsquo;Free-will,&rsquo; and being
+      myself more or less of a fatalist, it annoyed me that I never could in the
+      very slightest degree shake his convictions on that point. Moreover, when
+      I plagued him too much with Herbert Spencer, he had a way of retaliating,
+      and would foist upon me his favourite authors. He was never a worshipper
+      of any one writer, but always had at least a dozen prophets in whose
+      praise he was enthusiastic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Well, on this Christmas Eve, we had been to see dear old Ravenscroft and
+      his grand-daughter, and we were walking back through the quiet precincts
+      of the Temple, when he said abruptly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have decided to go back to Bath to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you had a worse account?&rdquo; I asked, much startled at this sudden
+      announcement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;but the one I had a week ago was far from good if you
+      remember, and I have a feeling that I ought to be there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment we emerged into the confusion of Fleet Street; but when we
+      had crossed the road I began to remonstrate with him, and argued the folly
+      of the idea all the way down Chancery Lane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, there was no shaking his purpose; Christmas and its associations
+      had made his life in town no longer possible for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must at any rate try it again and see how it works,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And all I could do was to persuade him to leave the bulk of his
+      possessions in London, &ldquo;in case,&rdquo; as he remarked, &ldquo;the Major would not
+      have him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So the next day I was left to myself again with nothing to remind me of
+      Derrick&rsquo;s stay but his pictures which still hung on the wall of our
+      sitting-room. I made him promise to write a full, true, and particular
+      account of his return, a bona-fide old-fashioned letter, not the
+      half-dozen lines of these degenerate days; and about a week later I
+      received the following budget:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Sydney,&mdash;I got down to Bath all right, and, thanks to your
+      &lsquo;Study of Sociology,&rsquo; endured a slow, and cold, and dull, and depressing
+      journey with the thermometer down to zero, and spirits to correspond, with
+      the country a monotonous white, and the sky a monotonous grey, and a
+      companion who smoked the vilest tobacco you can conceive. The old place
+      looks as beautiful as ever, and to my great satisfaction the hills round
+      about are green. Snow, save in pictures, is an abomination. Milsom Street
+      looked asleep, and Gay Street decidedly dreary, but the inhabitants were
+      roused by my knock, and the old landlady nearly shook my hand off. My
+      father has an attack of jaundice and is in a miserable state. He was
+      asleep when I got here, and the good old landlady, thinking the front
+      sitting-room would be free, had invited &lsquo;company,&rsquo; i.e., two or three
+      married daughters and their belongings; one of the children beats Magnay&rsquo;s
+      &lsquo;Carina&rsquo; as to beauty&mdash;he ought to paint her. Happy thought, send him
+      and pretty Mrs. Esperance down here on spec. He can paint the child for
+      the next Academy, and meantime I could enjoy his company. Well, all these
+      good folks being just set-to at roast beef, I naturally wouldn&rsquo;t hear of
+      disturbing them, and in the end was obliged to sit down too and eat at
+      that hour of the day the hugest dinner you ever saw&mdash;anything but
+      voracious appetites offended the hostess. Magnay&rsquo;s future model, for all
+      its angelic face, &lsquo;ate to repletion,&rsquo; like the fair American in the story.
+      Then I went into my father&rsquo;s room, and shortly after he woke up and asked
+      me to give him some Friedrichshall water, making no comment at all on my
+      return, but just behaving as though I had been here all the autumn, so
+      that I felt as if the whole affair were a dream. Except for this attack of
+      jaundice, he has been much as usual, and when you next come down you will
+      find us settled into our old groove. The quiet of it after London is
+      extraordinary. But I believe it suits the book, which gets on pretty fast.
+      This afternoon I went up Lansdowne and right on past the Grand Stand to
+      Prospect Stile, which is at the edge of a high bit of tableland, and looks
+      over a splendid stretch of country, with the Bristol Channel and the Welsh
+      hills in the distance. While I was there the sun most considerately set in
+      gorgeous array. You never saw anything like it. It was worth the journey
+      from London to Bath, I can assure you. Tell Magnay, and may it lure him
+      down; also name the model aforementioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is the old Q.C. and his pretty grandchild? That quaint old room of
+      theirs in the Temple somehow took my fancy, and the child was divine. Do
+      you remember my showing you, in a gloomy narrow street here, a jolly old
+      watchmaker who sits in his shop-window and is for ever bending over sick
+      clocks and watches? Well, he&rsquo;s still sitting there, as if he had never
+      moved since we saw him that Saturday months ago. I mean to study him for a
+      portrait; his sallow, clean-shaved, wrinkled face has a whole story in it.
+      I believe he is married to a Xantippe who throws cold water over him, both
+      literally and metaphorically; but he is a philosopher&mdash;I&rsquo;ll stake my
+      reputation as an observer on that&mdash;he just shrugs his sturdy old
+      shoulders, and goes on mending clocks and watches. On dark days he works
+      by a gas jet&mdash;and then Rembrandt would enjoy painting him. I look at
+      him whenever my world is particularly awry, and find him highly
+      beneficial. Davison has forwarded me to-day two letters from readers of
+      &lsquo;Lynwood.&rsquo; The first is from an irate female who takes me to task for the
+      dangerous tendency of the story, and insists that I have drawn impossible
+      circumstances and impossible characters. The second is from an old
+      clergyman, who writes a pathetic letter of thanks, and tells me that it is
+      almost word for word the story of a son of his who died five years ago.
+      Query: shall I send the irate female the old man&rsquo;s letter, and save myself
+      the trouble of writing? But on the whole I think not; it would be pearls
+      before swine. I will write to her myself. Glad to see you whenever you can
+      run down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours ever,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;D. V.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      (&ldquo;Never struck me before what pious initials mine are.&rdquo;)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The very evening I received this letter I happened to be dining at the
+      Probyn&rsquo;s. As luck would have it, pretty Miss Freda was staying in the
+      house, and she fell to my share. I always liked her, though of late I had
+      felt rather angry with her for being carried away by the general storm of
+      admiration and swept by it into an engagement with Lawrence Vaughan. She
+      was a very pleasant, natural sort of talker, and she always treated me as
+      an old friend. But she seemed to me, that night, a little less satisfied
+      than usual with life. Perhaps it was merely the effect of the black lace
+      dress which she wore, but I fancied her paler and thinner, and somehow she
+      seemed all eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is Lawrence now?&rdquo; I asked, as we went down to the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is stationed at Dover,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;He was up here for a few hours
+      yesterday; he came to say good-bye to me, for I am going to Bath next
+      Monday with my father, who has been very rheumatic lately&mdash;and you
+      know Bath is coming into fashion again, all the doctors recommend it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major Vaughan is there,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;and has found the waters very good, I
+      believe; any day, at twelve o&rsquo;clock, you may see him getting out of his
+      chair and going into the Pump Room on Derrick&rsquo;s arm. I often wonder what
+      outsiders think of them. It isn&rsquo;t often, is it, that one sees a son
+      absolutely giving up his life to his invalid father?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked a little startled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish Lawrence could be more with Major Vaughan,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;for he is
+      his father&rsquo;s favourite. You see he is such a good talker, and Derrick&mdash;well,
+      he is absorbed in his books; and then he has such extravagant notions
+      about war, he must be a very uncongenial companion to the poor Major.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I devoured turbot in wrathful silence. Freda glanced at me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, isn&rsquo;t it, that he has quite given up his life to writing, and
+      cares for nothing else?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he has deliberately sacrificed his best chance of success by
+      leaving London and burying himself in the provinces,&rdquo; I replied drily;
+      &ldquo;and as to caring for nothing but writing, why he never gets more than two
+      or three hours a day for it.&rdquo; And then I gave her a minute account of his
+      daily routine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She began to look troubled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been misled,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I had gained quite a wrong impression of
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very few people know anything at all about him,&rdquo; I said warmly; &ldquo;you are
+      not alone in that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose his next novel is finished now?&rdquo; said Freda; &ldquo;he told me he had
+      only one or two more chapters to write when I saw him a few months ago on
+      his way from Ben Rhydding. What is he writing now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is writing that novel over again,&rdquo; I replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Over again? What fearful waste of time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it has cost him hundreds of hours&rsquo; work; it just shows what a man he
+      is, that he has gone through with it so bravely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how do you mean? Didn&rsquo;t it do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rashly, perhaps, yet I think unavoidably, I told her the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was the best thing he had ever written, but unfortunately it was
+      destroyed, burnt to a cinder. That was not very pleasant, was it, for a
+      man who never makes two copies of his work?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was frightful!&rdquo; said Freda, her eyes dilating. &ldquo;I never heard a word
+      about it. Does Lawrence know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he does not; and perhaps I ought not to have told you, but I was
+      annoyed at your so misunderstanding Derrick. Pray never mention the
+      affair; he would wish it kept perfectly quiet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; asked Freda, turning her clear eyes full upon mine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; I said, lowering my voice, &ldquo;because his father burnt it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She almost gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Deliberately?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, deliberately,&rdquo; I replied. &ldquo;His illness has affected his temper, and
+      he is sometimes hardly responsible for his actions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I knew that he was irritable and hasty, and that Derrick annoyed him.
+      Lawrence told me that, long ago,&rdquo; said Freda. &ldquo;But that he should have
+      done such a thing as that! It is horrible! Poor Derrick, how sorry I am
+      for him. I hope we shall see something of them at Bath. Do you know how
+      the Major is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had a letter about him from Derrick only this evening,&rdquo; I replied; &ldquo;if
+      you care to see it, I will show it you later on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And by-and-by, in the drawing-room, I put Derrick&rsquo;s letter into her hands,
+      and explained to her how for a few months he had given up his life at
+      Bath, in despair, but now had returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think Lawrence can understand the state of things,&rdquo; she said
+      wistfully. &ldquo;And yet he has been down there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I made no reply, and Freda, with a sigh, turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A month later I went down to Bath and found, as my friend foretold,
+      everything going on in the old groove, except that Derrick himself had an
+      odd, strained look about him, as if he were fighting a foe beyond his
+      strength. Freda&rsquo;s arrival at Bath had been very hard on him, it was almost
+      more than he could endure. Sir Richard, blind as a bat, of course, to
+      anything below the surface, made a point of seeing something of Lawrence&rsquo;s
+      brother. And on the day of my arrival Derrick and I had hardly set out for
+      a walk, when we ran across the old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Richard, though rheumatic in the wrists, was nimble of foot and an
+      inveterate walker. He was going with his daughter to see over Beckford&rsquo;s
+      Tower, and invited us to accompany him. Derrick, much against the grain, I
+      fancy, had to talk to Freda, who, in her winter furs and close-fitting
+      velvet hat, looked more fascinating than ever, while the old man descanted
+      to me on Bath waters, antiquities, etc., in a long-winded way that lasted
+      all up the hill. We made our way into the cemetery and mounted the tower
+      stairs, thinking of the past when this dreary place had been so gorgeously
+      furnished. Here Derrick contrived to get ahead with Sir Richard, and Freda
+      lingered in a sort of alcove with me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been so wanting to see you,&rdquo; she said, in an agitated voice. &ldquo;Oh,
+      Mr. Wharncliffe, is it true what I have heard about the Major? Does he
+      drink?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who told you?&rdquo; I said, a little embarrassed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was our landlady,&rdquo; said Freda; &ldquo;she is the daughter of the Major&rsquo;s
+      landlady. And you should hear what she says of Derrick! Why, he must be a
+      downright hero! All the time I have been half despising him&rdquo;&mdash;she
+      choked back a sob&mdash;&ldquo;he has been trying to save his father from what
+      was certain death to him&mdash;so they told me. Do you think it is true?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it is,&rdquo; I replied gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And about his arm&mdash;was that true?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I signed an assent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her grey eyes grew moist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;how I have been deceived and how little Lawrence
+      appreciates him! I think he must know that I&rsquo;ve misjudged him, for he
+      seems so odd and shy, and I don&rsquo;t think he likes to talk to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I looked searchingly into her truthful grey eyes, thinking of poor
+      Derrick&rsquo;s unlucky love-story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not understand him,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;and perhaps it is best so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the words and the look were rash, for all at once the colour flooded
+      her face. She turned quickly away, conscious at last that the midsummer
+      dream of those yachting days had to Derrick been no dream at all, but a
+      life-long reality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I felt very sorry for Freda, for she was not at all the sort of girl who
+      would glory in having a fellow hopelessly in love with her. I knew that
+      the discovery she had made would be nothing but a sorrow to her, and could
+      guess how she would reproach herself for that innocent past fancy, which,
+      till now, had seemed to her so faint and far-away&mdash;almost as
+      something belonging to another life. All at once we heard the others
+      descending, and she turned to me with such a frightened, appealing look,
+      that I could not possibly have helped going to the rescue. I plunged
+      abruptly into a discourse on Beckford, and told her how he used to keep
+      diamonds in a tea-cup, and amused himself by arranging them on a piece of
+      velvet. Sir Richard fled from the sound of my prosy voice, and, needless
+      to say, Derrick followed him. We let them get well in advance and then
+      followed, Freda silent and distraite, but every now and then asking a
+      question about the Major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Derrick, evidently he was on guard. He saw a good deal of the
+      Merrifields and was sedulously attentive to them in many small ways; but
+      with Freda he was curiously reserved, and if by chance they did talk
+      together, he took good care to bring Lawrence&rsquo;s name into the
+      conversation. On the whole, I believe loyalty was his strongest
+      characteristic, and want of loyalty in others tried him more severely than
+      anything in the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the spring wore on, it became evident to everyone that the Major could
+      not last long. His son&rsquo;s watchfulness and the enforced temperance which
+      the doctors insisted on had prolonged his life to a certain extent, but
+      gradually his sufferings increased and his strength diminished. At last he
+      kept his bed altogether.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What Derrick bore at this time no one can ever know. When, one bright
+      sunshiny Saturday, I went down to see how he was getting on, I found him
+      worn and haggard, too evidently paying the penalty of sleepless nights and
+      thankless care. I was a little shocked to hear that Lawrence had been
+      summoned, but when I was taken into the sick room I realised that they had
+      done wisely to send for the favourite son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Major was evidently dying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Never can I forget the cruelty and malevolence with which his bloodshot
+      eyes rested on Derrick, or the patience with which the dear old fellow
+      bore his father&rsquo;s scathing sarcasms. It was while I was sitting by the bed
+      that the landlady entered with a telegram, which she put into Derrick&rsquo;s
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From Lawrence!&rdquo; said the dying man triumphantly, &ldquo;to say by what train we
+      may expect him. Well?&rdquo; as Derrick still read the message to himself,
+      &ldquo;can&rsquo;t you speak, you d&mdash;d idiot? Have you lost your d&mdash;d
+      tongue? What does he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid he cannot be here just yet,&rdquo; said Derrick, trying to tone
+      down the curt message; &ldquo;it seems he cannot get leave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not get leave to see his dying father? What confounded nonsense. Give me
+      the thing here;&rdquo; and he snatched the telegram from Derrick and read it in
+      a quavering, hoarse voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible to get away. Am hopelessly tied here. Love to my father.
+      Greatly regret to hear such bad news of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I think that message made the old man realise the worth of Lawrence&rsquo;s
+      often expressed affection for him. Clearly it was a great blow to him. He
+      threw down the paper without a word and closed his eyes. For half an hour
+      he lay like that, and we did not disturb him. At last he looked up; his
+      voice was fainter and his manner more gentle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Derrick,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I believe I&rsquo;ve done you an injustice; it is you who
+      cared for me, not Lawrence, and I&rsquo;ve struck your name out of my will&mdash;have
+      left all to him. After all, though you are one of those confounded
+      novelists, you&rsquo;ve done what you could for me. Let some one fetch a
+      solicitor&mdash;I&rsquo;ll alter it&mdash;I&rsquo;ll alter it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      I instantly hurried out to fetch a lawyer, but it was Saturday afternoon,
+      the offices were closed, and some time passed before I had caught my man.
+      I told him as we hastened back some of the facts of the case, and he
+      brought his writing materials into the sick room and took down from the
+      Major&rsquo;s own lips the words which would have the effect of dividing the old
+      man&rsquo;s possessions between his two sons. Dr. Mackrill was now present; he
+      stood on one side of the bed, his fingers on the dying man&rsquo;s pulse. On the
+      other side stood Derrick, a degree paler and graver than usual, but
+      revealing little of his real feelings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Word it as briefly as you can,&rdquo; said the doctor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the lawyer scribbled away as though for his life, while the rest of us
+      waited in a wretched hushed state of tension. In the room itself there was
+      no sound save the scratching of the pen and the laboured breathing of the
+      old man; but in the next house we could hear someone playing a waltz.
+      Somehow it did not seem to me incongruous, for it was &lsquo;Sweethearts,&rsquo; and
+      that had been the favourite waltz of Ben Rhydding, so that I always
+      connected it with Derrick and his trouble, and now the words rang in my
+      ears:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Oh, love for a year, a week, a day,
+      But alas! for the love that loves alway.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      If it had not been for the Major&rsquo;s return from India, I firmly believed
+      that Derrick and Freda would by this time have been betrothed. Derrick had
+      taken a line which necessarily divided them, had done what he saw to be
+      his duty; yet what were the results? He had lost Freda, he had lost his
+      book, he had damaged his chance of success as a writer, he had been struck
+      out of his father&rsquo;s will, and he had suffered unspeakably. Had anything
+      whatever been gained? The Major was dying unrepentant to all appearance,
+      as hard and cynical an old worldling as I ever saw. The only spark of
+      grace he showed was that tardy endeavour to make a fresh will. What good
+      had it all been? What good?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I could not answer the question then, could only cry out in a sort of
+      indignation, &ldquo;What profit is there in his blood?&rdquo; But looking at it now, I
+      have a sort of perception that the very lack of apparent profitableness
+      was part of Derrick&rsquo;s training, while if, as I now incline to think, there
+      is a hereafter where the training begun here is continued, the old Major
+      in the hell he most richly deserved would have the remembrance of his
+      son&rsquo;s patience and constancy and devotion to serve as a guiding light in
+      the outer darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lawyer no longer wrote at railroad speed; he pushed back his chair,
+      brought the will to the bed, and placed the pen in the trembling yellow
+      hand of the invalid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must sign your name here,&rdquo; he said, pointing with his finger; and the
+      Major raised himself a little, and brought the pen quaveringly down
+      towards the paper. With a sort of fascination I watched the finely-pointed
+      steel nib; it trembled for an instant or two, then the pen dropped from
+      the convulsed fingers, and with a cry of intolerable anguish the Major
+      fell back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For some minutes there was a painful struggle; presently we caught a word
+      or two between the groans of the dying man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too late!&rdquo; he gasped, &ldquo;too late!&rdquo; And then a dreadful vision of horrors
+      seemed to rise before him, and with a terror that I can never forget he
+      turned to his son and clutched fast hold of his hands: &ldquo;Derrick!&rdquo; he
+      shrieked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick could not speak, but he bent low over the bed as though to screen
+      the dying eyes from those horrible visions, and with an odd sort of thrill
+      I saw him embrace his father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he raised his head the terror had died out of the Major&rsquo;s face; all
+      was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      Chapter IX.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;To duty firm, to conscience true,
+        However tried and pressed,
+      In God&rsquo;s clear sight high work we do,
+        If we but do out best.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Lawrence came down to the funeral, and I took good care that he should
+      hear all about his father&rsquo;s last hours, and I made the solicitor show him
+      the unsigned will. He made hardly any comment on it till we three were
+      alone together. Then with a sort of kindly patronage he turned to his
+      brother&mdash;Derrick, it must be remembered, was the elder twin&mdash;and
+      said pityingly, &ldquo;Poor old fellow! it was rather rough on you that the
+      governor couldn&rsquo;t sign this; but never mind, you&rsquo;ll soon, no doubt, be
+      earning a fortune by your books; and besides, what does a bachelor want
+      with more than you&rsquo;ve already inherited from our mother? Whereas, an
+      officer just going to be married, and with this confounded reputation of
+      hero to keep up, why, I can tell you it needs every penny of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick looked at his brother searchingly. I honestly believe that he
+      didn&rsquo;t very much care about the money, but it cut him to the heart that
+      Lawrence should treat him so shabbily. The soul of generosity himself, he
+      could not understand how anyone could frame a speech so infernally mean.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; I broke in, &ldquo;if Derrick liked to go to law he could no doubt
+      get his rights, there are three witnesses who can prove what was the
+      Major&rsquo;s real wish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall not go to law,&rdquo; said Derrick, with a dignity of which I had
+      hardly imagined him capable. &ldquo;You spoke of your marriage, Lawrence; is it
+      to be soon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This autumn, I hope,&rdquo; said Lawrence; &ldquo;at least, if I can overcome Sir
+      Richard&rsquo;s ridiculous notion that a girl ought not to marry till she&rsquo;s
+      twenty-one. He&rsquo;s a most crotchety old fellow, that future father-in-law of
+      mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Lawrence had first come back from the war I had thought him
+      wonderfully improved, but a long course of spoiling and flattery had done
+      him a world of harm. He liked very much to be lionised, and to see him now
+      posing in drawing-rooms, surrounded by a worshipping throng of women, was
+      enough to sicken any sensible being.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Derrick, though he could not be expected to feel his bereavement in
+      the ordinary way, yet his father&rsquo;s death had been a great shock to him. It
+      was arranged that after settling various matters in Bath he should go down
+      to stay with his sister for a time, joining me in Montague Street later
+      on. While he was away in Birmingham, however, an extraordinary change came
+      into my humdrum life, and when he rejoined me a few weeks later, I&mdash;selfish
+      brute&mdash;was so overwhelmed with the trouble that had befallen me that
+      I thought very little indeed of his affairs. He took this quite as a
+      matter of course, and what I should have done without him I can&rsquo;t
+      conceive. However, this story concerns him and has nothing to do with my
+      extraordinary dilemma; I merely mention it as a fact which brought
+      additional cares into his life. All the time he was doing what could be
+      done to help me he was also going through a most baffling and miserable
+      time among the publishers; for &lsquo;At Strife,&rsquo; unlike its predecessor, was
+      rejected by Davison and by five other houses. Think of this, you
+      comfortable readers, as you lie back in your easy chairs and leisurely
+      turn the pages of that popular story. The book which represented years of
+      study and long hours of hard work was first burnt to a cinder. It was
+      re-written with what infinite pains and toil few can understand. It was
+      then six times tied up and carried with anxiety and hope to a publisher&rsquo;s
+      office, only to re-appear six times in Montague Street, an unwelcome
+      visitor, bringing with it depression and disappointment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick said little, but suffered much. However, nothing daunted him. When
+      it came back from the sixth publisher he took it to a seventh, then
+      returned and wrote away like a Trojan at his third book. The one thing
+      that never failed him was that curious consciousness that he HAD to write;
+      like the prophets of old, the &lsquo;burden&rsquo; came to him, and speak it he must.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The seventh publisher wrote a somewhat dubious letter: the book, he
+      thought, had great merit, but unluckily people were prejudiced, and
+      historical novels rarely met with success. However, he was willing to take
+      the story, and offered half profits, candidly admitting that he had no
+      great hopes of a large sale. Derrick instantly closed with this offer,
+      proofs came in, the book appeared, was well received like its predecessor,
+      fell into the hands of one of the leaders of Society, and, to the intense
+      surprise of the publisher, proved to be the novel of the year. Speedily a
+      second edition was called for; then, after a brief interval, a third
+      edition&mdash;this time a rational one-volume affair; and the whole lot&mdash;6,000
+      I believe&mdash;went off on the day of publication. Derrick was amazed;
+      but he enjoyed his success very heartily, and I think no one could say
+      that he had leapt into fame at a bound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having devoured &lsquo;At Strife,&rsquo; people began to discover the merits of
+      &lsquo;Lynwood&rsquo;s Heritage;&rsquo; the libraries were besieged for it, and a cheap
+      edition was hastily published, and another and another, till the book,
+      which at first had been such a dead failure, rivalled &lsquo;At Strife.&rsquo; Truly
+      an author&rsquo;s career is a curious thing; and precisely why the first book
+      failed, and the second succeeded, no one could explain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It amused me very much to see Derrick turned into a lion&mdash;he was so
+      essentially un-lion-like. People were for ever asking him how he worked,
+      and I remember a very pretty girl setting upon him once at a dinner-party
+      with the embarrassing request:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, do tell me, Mr. Vaughan, how do you write stories? I wish you would
+      give me a good receipt for a novel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Derrick hesitated uneasily for a minute; finally, with a humorous smile,
+      he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I can&rsquo;t exactly tell you, because, more or less, novels grow; but
+      if you want a receipt, you might perhaps try after this fashion:&mdash;Conceive
+      your hero, add a sprinkling of friends and relatives, flavour with
+      whatever scenery or local colour you please, carefully consider what
+      circumstances are most likely to develop your man into the best he is
+      capable of, allow the whole to simmer in your brain as long as you can,
+      and then serve, while hot, with ink upon white or blue foolscap, according
+      to taste.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young lady applauded the receipt, but she sighed a little, and
+      probably relinquished all hope of concocting a novel herself; on the
+      whole, it seemed to involve incessant taking of trouble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      About this time I remember, too, another little scene, which I enjoyed
+      amazingly. I laugh now when I think of it. I happened to be at a huge
+      evening crush, and rather to my surprise, came across Lawrence Vaughan. We
+      were talking together, when up came Connington of the Foreign Office. &ldquo;I
+      say, Vaughan,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;Lord Remington wishes to be introduced to you.&rdquo; I
+      watched the old statesman a little curiously as he greeted Lawrence, and
+      listened to his first words: &ldquo;Very glad to make your acquaintance, Captain
+      Vaughan; I understand that the author of that grand novel, &lsquo;At Strife,&rsquo; is
+      a brother of yours.&rdquo; And poor Lawrence spent a mauvais quart d&rsquo;heure,
+      inwardly fuming, I know, at the idea that he, the hero of Saspataras Hill,
+      should be considered merely as &lsquo;the brother of Vaughan, the novelist.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fate, or perhaps I should say the effect of his own pernicious actions,
+      did not deal kindly just now with Lawrence. Somehow Freda learnt about
+      that will, and, being no bread-and-butter miss, content meekly to adore
+      her fiance and deem him faultless, she &lsquo;up and spake&rsquo; on the subject, and
+      I fancy poor Lawrence must have had another mauvais quart d&rsquo;heure. It was
+      not this, however, which led to a final breach between them; it was
+      something which Sir Richard discovered with regard to Lawrence&rsquo;s life at
+      Dover. The engagement was instantly broken off, and Freda, I am sure, felt
+      nothing but relief. She went abroad for some time, however, and we did not
+      see her till long after Lawrence had been comfortably married to 1,500
+      pounds a year and a middle-aged widow, who had long been a
+      hero-worshipper, and who, I am told, never allowed any visitor to leave
+      the house without making some allusion to the memorable battle of
+      Saspataras Hill and her Lawrence&rsquo;s gallant action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the two years following after the Major&rsquo;s death, Derrick and I, as I
+      mentioned before, shared the rooms in Montague Street. For me, owing to
+      the trouble I spoke of, they were years of maddening suspense and pain;
+      but what pleasure I did manage to enjoy came entirely through the success
+      of my friend&rsquo;s books and from his companionship. It was odd that from the
+      care of his father he should immediately pass on to the care of one who
+      had made such a disastrous mistake as I had made. But I feel the less
+      compunction at the thought of the amount of sympathy I called for at that
+      time, because I notice that the giving of sympathy is a necessity for
+      Derrick, and that when the troubles of other folk do not immediately
+      thrust themselves into his life he carefully hunts them up. During these
+      two years he was reading for the Bar&mdash;not that he ever expected to do
+      very much as a barrister, but he thought it well to have something to fall
+      back on, and declared that the drudgery of the reading would do him good.
+      He was also writing as usual, and he used to spend two evenings a week at
+      Whitechapel, where he taught one of the classes in connection with Toynbee
+      Hall, and where he gained that knowledge of East-end life which is
+      conspicuous in his third book&mdash;&lsquo;Dick Carew.&rsquo; This, with an ever
+      increasing and often very burdensome correspondence, brought to him by his
+      books, and with a fair share of dinners, &lsquo;At Homes,&rsquo; and so forth, made
+      his life a full one. In a quiet sort of way I believe he was happy during
+      this time. But later on, when, my trouble at an end, I had migrated to a
+      house of my own, and he was left alone in the Montague Street rooms, his
+      spirits somehow flagged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fame is, after all, a hollow, unsatisfying thing to a man of his nature.
+      He heartily enjoyed his success, he delighted in hearing that his books
+      had given pleasure or had been of use to anyone, but no public victory
+      could in the least make up to him for the loss he had suffered in his
+      private life; indeed, I almost think there were times when his triumphs as
+      an author seemed to him utterly worthless&mdash;days of depression when
+      the congratulations of his friends were nothing but a mockery. He had
+      gained a striking success, it is true, but he had lost Freda; he was in
+      the position of the starving man who has received a gift of bon-bons, but
+      so craves for bread that they half sicken him. I used now and then to
+      watch his face when, as often happened, someone said: &ldquo;What an enviable
+      fellow you are, Vaughan, to get on like this!&rdquo; or, &ldquo;What wouldn&rsquo;t I give
+      to change places with you!&rdquo; He would invariably smile and turn the
+      conversation; but there was a look in his eyes at such times that I hated
+      to see&mdash;it always made me think of Mrs. Browning&rsquo;s poem, &lsquo;The Mask&rsquo;:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Behind no prison-grate, she said,
+        Which slurs the sunshine half a mile,
+      Live captives so uncomforted
+        As souls behind a smile.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      As to the Merrifields, there was no chance of seeing them, for Sir Richard
+      had gone to India in some official capacity, and no doubt, as everyone
+      said, they would take good care to marry Freda out there. Derrick had not
+      seen her since that trying February at Bath, long ago. Yet I fancy she was
+      never out of his thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so the years rolled on, and Derrick worked away steadily, giving his
+      books to the world, accepting the comforts and discomforts of an author&rsquo;s
+      life, laughing at the outrageous reports that were in circulation about
+      him, yet occasionally, I think, inwardly wincing at them, and learning
+      from the number of begging letters which he received, and into which he
+      usually caused searching inquiry to be made, that there are in the world a
+      vast number of undeserving poor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day I happened to meet Lady Probyn at a garden-party; it was at the
+      same house on Campden Hill where I had once met Freda, and perhaps it was
+      the recollection of this which prompted me to enquire after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has not been well,&rdquo; said Lady Probyn, &ldquo;and they are sending her back
+      to England; the climate doesn&rsquo;t suit her. She is to make her home with us
+      for the present, so I am the gainer. Freda has always been my favourite
+      niece. I don&rsquo;t know what it is about her that is so taking; she is not
+      half so pretty as the others.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But so much more charming,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I wonder she has not married out in
+      India, as everyone prophesied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so do I,&rdquo; said her aunt. &ldquo;However, poor child, no doubt, after having
+      been two years engaged to that very disappointing hero of Saspataras Hill,
+      she will be shy of venturing to trust anyone again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think that affair ever went very deep?&rdquo; I ventured to ask. &ldquo;It
+      seemed to me that she looked miserable during her engagement, and happy
+      when it was broken off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite so,&rdquo; said Lady Probyn; &ldquo;I noticed the same thing. It was nothing
+      but a mistake. They were not in the least suited to each other. By-the-by,
+      I hear that Derrick Vaughan is married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Derrick?&rdquo; I exclaimed; &ldquo;oh, no, that is a mistake. It is merely one of
+      the hundred and one reports that are for ever being set afloat about him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I saw it in a paper, I assure you,&rdquo; said Lady Probyn, by no means
+      convinced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that may very well be; they were hard up for a paragraph, no doubt,
+      and inserted it. But, as for Derrick, why, how should he marry? He has
+      been madly in love with Miss Merrifield ever since our cruise in the
+      Aurora.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Probyn made an inarticulate exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor fellow!&rdquo; she said, after a minute&rsquo;s thought; &ldquo;that explains much to
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not explain her rather ambiguous remark, and before long our
+      tete-a-tete was interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now that my friend was a full-fledged barrister, he and I shared chambers,
+      and one morning about a month after this garden party, Derrick came in
+      with a face of such radiant happiness that I couldn&rsquo;t imagine what good
+      luck had befallen him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you think?&rdquo; he exclaimed; &ldquo;here&rsquo;s an invitation for a cruise in
+      the Aurora at the end of August&mdash;to be nearly the same party that we
+      had years ago,&rdquo; and he threw down the letter for me to read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of course there was special mention of &ldquo;my niece, Miss Merrifield, who has
+      just returned from India, and is ordered plenty of sea-air.&rdquo; I could have
+      told that without reading the letter, for it was written quite clearly in
+      Derrick&rsquo;s face. He looked ten years younger, and if any of his adoring
+      readers could have seen the pranks he was up to that morning in our staid
+      and respectable chambers, I am afraid they would no longer have spoken of
+      him &ldquo;with &lsquo;bated breath and whispering humbleness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As it happened, I, too, was able to leave home for a fortnight at the end
+      of August; and so our party in the Aurora really was the same, except that
+      we were all several years older, and let us hope wiser, than on the
+      previous occasion. Considering all that had intervened, I was surprised
+      that Derrick was not more altered; as for Freda, she was decidedly paler
+      than when we first met her, but before long sea-air and happiness wrought
+      a wonderful transformation in her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of the pessimists who are for ever writing books, even writing
+      novels (more shame to them), to prove that there is no such thing as
+      happiness in the world, we managed every one of us heartily to enjoy our
+      cruise. It seemed indeed true that:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Green leaves and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
+      And singing and loving all come back together.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Something, at any rate, of the glamour of those past days came back to us
+      all, I fancy, as we laughed and dozed and idled and talked beneath the
+      snowy wings of the Aurora, and I cannot say I was in the least surprised
+      when, on roaming through the pleasant garden walks in that unique little
+      island of Tresco, I came once more upon Derrick and Freda, with, if you
+      will believe it, another handful of white heather given to them by that
+      discerning gardener! Freda once more reminded me of the girl in the
+      &lsquo;Biglow Papers,&rsquo; and Derrick&rsquo;s face was full of such bliss as one seldom
+      sees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had always had to wait for his good things, but in the end they came to
+      him. However, you may depend upon it, he didn&rsquo;t say much. That was never
+      his way. He only gripped my hand, and, with his eyes all aglow with
+      happiness, exclaimed &ldquo;Congratulate me, old fellow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Derrick Vaughan--Novelist
+
+Author: Edna Lyall
+
+Posting Date: October 1, 2008 [EBook #1665]
+Release Date: March, 1999
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DERRICK VAUGHAN--NOVELIST ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Les Bowler
+
+
+
+
+
+DERRICK VAUGHAN--NOVELIST
+
+By Edna Lyall
+
+
+     'It is only through deep sympathy that a man can become a
+     great artist.'--Lewes's Life of Goethe.
+
+
+     'Sympathy is feeling related to an object, whilst sentiment
+     is the same feeling seeking itself alone.'--Arnold Toynbee.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter I.
+
+
+'Nothing fills a child's mind like a large old mansion; better if un- or
+partially occupied; peopled with the spirits of deceased members of the
+county and Justices of the Quorum. Would I were buried in the peopled
+solitude of one, with my feelings at seven years old!'--From Letters of
+Charles Lamb.
+
+
+To attempt a formal biography of Derrick Vaughan would be out of the
+question, even though he and I have been more or less thrown together
+since we were both in the nursery. But I have an odd sort of wish to
+note down roughly just a few of my recollections of him, and to show how
+his fortunes gradually developed, being perhaps stimulated to make the
+attempt by certain irritating remarks which one overhears now often
+enough at clubs or in drawing-rooms, or indeed wherever one goes.
+"Derrick Vaughan," say these authorities of the world of small-talk,
+with that delightful air of omniscience which invariably characterises
+them, "why, he simply leapt into fame. He is one of the favourites of
+fortune. Like Byron, he woke one morning and found himself famous."
+
+Now this sounds well enough, but it is a long way from the truth, and
+I--Sydney Wharncliffe, of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-law--desire,
+while the past few years are fresh in my mind, to write a true version
+of my friend's career.
+
+Everyone knows his face. Has it not appeared in 'Noted Men,'
+and--gradually deteriorating according to the price of the paper and
+the quality of the engraving--in many another illustrated journal? Yet
+somehow these works of art don't satisfy me, and, as I write, I see
+before me something very different from the latest photograph by Messrs.
+Paul and Reynard.
+
+I see a large-featured, broad-browed English face, a trifle
+heavy-looking when in repose, yet a thorough, honest, manly face, with
+a complexion neither dark nor fair, with brown hair and moustache, and
+with light hazel eyes that look out on the world quietly enough. You
+might talk to him for long in an ordinary way and never suspect that he
+was a genius; but when you have him to yourself, when some consciousness
+of sympathy rouses him, he all at once becomes a different being. His
+quiet eyes kindle, his face becomes full of life--you wonder that you
+ever thought it heavy or commonplace. Then the world interrupts in some
+way, and, just as a hermit-crab draws down its shell with a comically
+rapid movement, so Derrick suddenly retires into himself.
+
+Thus much for his outer man.
+
+For the rest, there are of course the neat little accounts of his
+birthplace, his parentage, his education, etc., etc., published with the
+list of his works in due order, with the engravings in the illustrated
+papers. But these tell us little of the real life of the man.
+
+Carlyle, in one of his finest passages, says that 'A true delineation of
+the smallest man and his scene of pilgrimage through life is capable of
+interesting the greatest men; that all men are to an unspeakable degree
+brothers, each man's life a strange emblem of every man's; and that
+human portraits faithfully drawn are of all pictures the welcomest on
+human walls.' And though I don't profess to give a portrait, but merely
+a sketch, I will endeavour to sketch faithfully, and possibly in the
+future my work may fall into the hands of some of those worthy people
+who imagine that my friend leapt into fame at a bound, or of those
+comfortable mortals who seem to think that a novel is turned out as
+easily as water from a tap.
+
+There is, however, one thing I can never do:--I am quite unable to
+put into words my friend's intensely strong feeling with regard to the
+sacredness of his profession. It seemed to me not unlike the feeling
+of Isaiah when, in the vision, his mouth had been touched with the
+celestial fire. And I can only hope that something of this may be read
+between my very inadequate lines.
+
+Looking back, I fancy Derrick must have been a clever child. But he was
+not precocious, and in some respects was even decidedly backward. I can
+see him now--it is my first clear recollection of him--leaning back
+in the corner of my father's carriage as we drove from the Newmarket
+station to our summer home at Mondisfield. He and I were small boys of
+eight, and Derrick had been invited for the holidays, while his twin
+brother--if I remember right--indulged in typhoid fever at Kensington.
+He was shy and silent, and the ice was not broken until we passed
+Silvery Steeple.
+
+"That," said my father, "is a ruined church; it was destroyed by
+Cromwell in the Civil Wars."
+
+In an instant the small quiet boy sitting beside me was transformed. His
+eyes shone; he sprang forward and thrust his head far out of the window,
+gazing at the old ivy-covered tower as long as it remained in sight.
+
+"Was Cromwell really once there?" he asked with breathless interest.
+
+"So they say," replied my father, looking with an amused smile at the
+face of the questioner, in which eagerness, delight, and reverence were
+mingled. "Are you an admirer of the Lord Protector?"
+
+"He is my greatest hero of all," said Derrick fervently. "Do you
+think--oh, do you think he possibly can ever have come to Mondisfield?"
+
+My father thought not, but said there was an old tradition that the
+Hall had been attacked by the Royalists, and the bridge over the moat
+defended by the owner of the house; but he had no great belief in the
+story, for which, indeed, there seemed no evidence.
+
+Derrick's eyes during this conversation were something wonderful to see,
+and long after, when we were not actually playing at anything, I used
+often to notice the same expression stealing over him, and would cry
+out, "There is the man defending the bridge again; I can see him in your
+eyes! Tell me what happened to him next!"
+
+Then, generally pacing to and fro in the apple walk, or sitting astride
+the bridge itself, Derrick would tell me of the adventures of my
+ancestor, Paul Wharncliffe, who performed incredible feats of valour,
+and who was to both of us a most real person. On wet days he wrote
+his story in a copy-book, and would have worked at it for hours had my
+mother allowed him, though of the manual part of the work he had, and
+has always retained, the greatest dislike. I remember well the comical
+ending of this first story of his. He skipped over an interval of ten
+years, represented on the page by ten laboriously made stars, and did
+for his hero in the following lines:
+
+"And now, reader, let us come into Mondisfield churchyard. There are
+three tombstones. On one is written, 'Mr. Paul Wharncliffe.'"
+
+The story was no better than the productions of most eight-year-old
+children, the written story at least. But, curiously enough, it proved
+to be the germ of the celebrated romance, 'At Strife,' which Derrick
+wrote in after years; and he himself maintains that his picture of life
+during the Civil War would have been much less graphic had he not lived
+so much in the past during his various visits to Mondisfield.
+
+It was at his second visit, when we were nine, that I remember his
+announcing his intention of being an author when he was grown up. My
+mother still delights in telling the story. She was sitting at work in
+the south parlour one day, when I dashed into the room calling out:
+
+"Derrick's head is stuck between the banisters in the gallery; come
+quick, mother, come quick!"
+
+She ran up the little winding staircase, and there, sure enough, in
+the musician's gallery, was poor Derrick, his manuscript and pen on the
+floor and his head in durance vile.
+
+"You silly boy!" said my mother, a little frightened when she found that
+to get the head back was no easy matter, "What made you put it through?"
+
+"You look like King Charles at Carisbrooke," I cried, forgetting how
+much Derrick would resent the speech.
+
+And being released at that moment he took me by the shoulders and gave
+me an angry shake or two, as he said vehemently, "I'm not like King
+Charles! King Charles was a liar."
+
+I saw my mother smile a little as she separated us.
+
+"Come, boys, don't quarrel," she said. "And Derrick will tell me the
+truth, for indeed I am curious to know why he thrust his head in such a
+place."
+
+"I wanted to make sure," said Derrick, "whether Paul Wharncliffe could
+see Lady Lettice, when she took the falcon on her wrist below in the
+passage. I mustn't say he saw her if it's impossible, you know. Authors
+have to be quite true in little things, and I mean to be an author."
+
+"But," said my mother, laughing at the great earnestness of the hazel
+eyes, "could not your hero look over the top of the rail?"
+
+"Well, yes," said Derrick. "He would have done that, but you see it's
+so dreadfully high and I couldn't get up. But I tell you what, Mrs.
+Wharncliffe, if it wouldn't be giving you a great deal of trouble--I'm
+sorry you were troubled to get my head back again--but if you would
+just look over, since you are so tall, and I'll run down and act Lady
+Lettice."
+
+"Why couldn't Paul go downstairs and look at the lady in comfort?" asked
+my mother.
+
+Derrick mused a little.
+
+"He might look at her through a crack in the door at the foot of the
+stairs, perhaps, but that would seem mean, somehow. It would be a pity,
+too, not to use the gallery; galleries are uncommon, you see, and you
+can get cracked doors anywhere. And, you know, he was obliged to look at
+her when she couldn't see him, because their fathers were on different
+sides in the war, and dreadful enemies."
+
+When school-days came, matters went on much in the same way; there was
+always an abominably scribbled tale stowed away in Derrick's desk, and
+he worked infinitely harder than I did, because there was always before
+him this determination to be an author and to prepare himself for
+the life. But he wrote merely from love of it, and with no idea of
+publication until the beginning of our last year at Oxford, when,
+having reached the ripe age of one-and-twenty, he determined to delay no
+longer, but to plunge boldly into his first novel.
+
+He was seldom able to get more than six or eight hours a week for it,
+because he was reading rather hard, so that the novel progressed but
+slowly. Finally, to my astonishment, it came to a dead stand-still.
+
+I have never made out exactly what was wrong with Derrick then, though
+I know that he passed through a terrible time of doubt and despair. I
+spent part of the Long with him down at Ventnor, where his mother had
+been ordered for her health. She was devoted to Derrick, and as far as
+I can understand, he was her chief comfort in life. Major Vaughan, the
+husband, had been out in India for years; the only daughter was married
+to a rich manufacturer at Birmingham, who had a constitutional dislike
+to mothers-in-law, and as far as possible eschewed their company; while
+Lawrence, Derrick's twin brother, was for ever getting into scrapes, and
+was into the bargain the most unblushingly selfish fellow I ever had the
+pleasure of meeting.
+
+"Sydney," said Mrs. Vaughan to me one afternoon when we were in the
+garden, "Derrick seems to me unlike himself, there is a division between
+us which I never felt before. Can you tell me what is troubling him?"
+
+She was not at all a good-looking woman, but she had a very sweet,
+wistful face, and I never looked at her sad eyes without feeling ready
+to go through fire and water for her. I tried now to make light of
+Derrick's depression.
+
+"He is only going through what we all of us go through," I said,
+assuming a cheerful tone. "He has suddenly discovered that life is a
+great riddle, and that the things he has accepted in blind faith are,
+after all, not so sure."
+
+She sighed.
+
+"Do all go through it?" she said thoughtfully. "And how many, I wonder,
+get beyond?"
+
+"Few enough," I replied moodily. Then, remembering my role,--"But
+Derrick will get through; he has a thousand things to help him which
+others have not,--you, for instance. And then I fancy he has a sort of
+insight which most of us are without."
+
+"Possibly," she said. "As for me, it is little that I can do for him.
+Perhaps you are right, and it is true that once in a life at any rate we
+all have to go into the wilderness alone."
+
+That was the last summer I ever saw Derrick's mother; she took a chill
+the following Christmas and died after a few days' illness. But I have
+always thought her death helped Derrick in a way that her life might
+have failed to do. For although he never, I fancy, quite recovered from
+the blow, and to this day cannot speak of her without tears in his eyes,
+yet when he came back to Oxford he seemed to have found the answer to
+the riddle, and though older, sadder and graver than before, had quite
+lost the restless dissatisfaction that for some time had clouded his
+life. In a few months, moreover, I noticed a fresh sign that he was out
+of the wood. Coming into his rooms one day I found him sitting in the
+cushioned window-seat, reading over and correcting some sheets of blue
+foolscap.
+
+"At it again?" I asked.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"I mean to finish the first volume here. For the rest I must be in
+London."
+
+"Why?" I asked, a little curious as to this unknown art of novel-making.
+
+"Because," he replied, "one must be in the heart of things to understand
+how Lynwood was affected by them."
+
+"Lynwood! I believe you are always thinking of him!" (Lynwood was the
+hero of his novel.)
+
+"Well, so I am nearly--so I must be, if the book is to be any good."
+
+"Read me what you have written," I said, throwing myself back in a
+rickety but tolerably comfortable arm-chair which Derrick had inherited
+with the rooms.
+
+He hesitated a moment, being always very diffident about his own work;
+but presently, having provided me with a cigar and made a good deal of
+unnecessary work in arranging the sheets of the manuscript, he began to
+read aloud, rather nervously, the opening chapters of the book now so
+well known under the title of 'Lynwood's Heritage.'
+
+I had heard nothing of his for the last four years, and was amazed at
+the gigantic stride he had made in the interval. For, spite of a certain
+crudeness, it seemed to me a most powerful story; it rushed straight to
+the point with no wavering, no beating about the bush; it flung itself
+into the problems of the day with a sort of sublime audacity; it took
+hold of one; it whirled one along with its own inherent force, and drew
+forth both laughter and tears, for Derrick's power of pathos had always
+been his strongest point.
+
+All at once he stopped reading.
+
+"Go on!" I cried impatiently.
+
+"That is all," he said, gathering the sheets together.
+
+"You stopped in the middle of a sentence!" I cried in exasperation.
+
+"Yes," he said quietly, "for six months."
+
+"You provoking fellow! why, I wonder?"
+
+"Because I didn't know the end."
+
+"Good heavens! And do you know it now?"
+
+He looked me full in the face, and there was an expression in his eyes
+which puzzled me.
+
+"I believe I do," he said; and, getting up, he crossed the room, put the
+manuscript away in a drawer, and returning, sat down in the window-seat
+again, looking out on the narrow, paved street below, and at the grey
+buildings opposite.
+
+I knew very well that he would never ask me what I thought of the
+story--that was not his way.
+
+"Derrick!" I exclaimed, watching his impassive face, "I believe after
+all you are a genius."
+
+I hardly know why I said "after all," but till that moment it had
+never struck me that Derrick was particularly gifted. He had so far got
+through his Oxford career creditably, but then he had worked hard; his
+talents were not of a showy order. I had never expected that he would
+set the Thames on fire. Even now it seemed to me that he was too dreamy,
+too quiet, too devoid of the pushing faculty to succeed in the world.
+
+My remark made him laugh incredulously.
+
+"Define a genius," he said.
+
+For answer I pulled down his beloved Imperial Dictionary and read
+him the following quotation from De Quincey: 'Genius is that mode of
+intellectual power which moves in alliance with the genial nature, i.e.,
+with the capacities of pleasure and pain; whereas talent has no
+vestige of such an alliance, and is perfectly independent of all human
+sensibilities.'
+
+"Let me think! You can certainly enjoy things a hundred times more than
+I can--and as for suffering, why you were always a great hand at that.
+Now listen to the great Dr. Johnson and see if the cap fits, 'The true
+genius is a mind of large general powers accidentally determined in some
+particular direction.'
+
+"'Large general powers'!--yes, I believe after all you have them with,
+alas, poor Derrick! one notable exception--the mathematical faculty. You
+were always bad at figures. We will stick to De Quincey's definition,
+and for heaven's sake, my dear fellow, do get Lynwood out of that awful
+plight! No wonder you were depressed when you lived all this age with
+such a sentence unfinished!"
+
+"For the matter of that," said Derrick, "he can't get out till the end
+of the book; but I can begin to go on with him now."
+
+"And when you leave Oxford?"
+
+"Then I mean to settle down in London--to write leisurely--and possibly
+to read for the Bar."
+
+"We might be together," I suggested. And Derrick took to this idea,
+being a man who detested solitude and crowds about equally. Since his
+mother's death he had been very much alone in the world. To Lawrence he
+was always loyal, but the two had nothing in common, and though fond
+of his sister he could not get on at all with the manufacturer, his
+brother-in-law. But this prospect of life together in London pleased him
+amazingly; he began to recover his spirits to a great extent and to look
+much more like himself.
+
+It must have been just as he had taken his degree that he received a
+telegram to announce that Major Vaughan had been invalided home, and
+would arrive at Southampton in three weeks' time. Derrick knew very
+little of his father, but apparently Mrs. Vaughan had done her best to
+keep up a sort of memory of his childish days at Aldershot, and in
+these the part that his father played was always pleasant. So he looked
+forward to the meeting not a little, while I, from the first, had my
+doubts as to the felicity it was likely to bring him.
+
+However, it was ordained that before the Major's ship arrived, his son's
+whole life should change. Even Lynwood was thrust into the background.
+As for me, I was nowhere. For Derrick, the quiet, the self-contained,
+had fallen passionately in love with a certain Freda Merrifield.
+
+
+
+Chapter II.
+
+     'Infancy?  What if the rose-streak of morning
+      Pale and depart in a passion of tears?
+      Once to have hoped is no matter for scorning:
+      Love once:  e'en love's disappointment endears;
+      A moment's success pays the failure of years.'
+                                               R. Browning.
+
+The wonder would have been if he had not fallen in love with her, for
+a more fascinating girl I never saw. She had only just returned from
+school at Compiegne, and was not yet out; her charming freshness
+was unsullied; she had all the simplicity and straightforwardness of
+unspoilt, unsophisticated girlhood. I well remember our first sight
+of her. We had been invited for a fortnight's yachting by Calverley of
+Exeter. His father, Sir John Calverley, had a sailing yacht, and some
+guests having disappointed him at the last minute, he gave his son carte
+blanche as to who he should bring to fill the vacant berths.
+
+So we three travelled down to Southampton together one hot summer day,
+and were rowed out to the Aurora, an uncommonly neat little schooner
+which lay in that over-rated and frequently odoriferous roadstead,
+Southampton Water. However, I admit that on that evening--the tide being
+high--the place looked remarkably pretty; the level rays of the setting
+sun turned the water to gold; a soft luminous haze hung over the town
+and the shipping, and by a stretch of imagination one might have thought
+the view almost Venetian. Derrick's perfect content was only marred
+by his shyness. I knew that he dreaded reaching the Aurora; and sure
+enough, as we stepped on to the exquisitely white deck and caught sight
+of the little group of guests, I saw him retreat into his crab-shell of
+silent reserve. Sir John, who made a very pleasant host, introduced us
+to the other visitors--Lord Probyn and his wife and their niece, Miss
+Freda Merrifield. Lady Probyn was Sir John's sister, and also the sister
+of Miss Merrifield's mother; so that it was almost a family party,
+and by no means a formidable gathering. Lady Probyn played the part of
+hostess and chaperoned her pretty niece; but she was not in the least
+like the aunt of fiction--on the contrary, she was comparatively young
+in years and almost comically young in mind; her niece was devoted to
+her, and the moment I saw her I knew that our cruise could not possibly
+be dull.
+
+As to Miss Freda, when we first caught sight of her she was standing
+near the companion, dressed in a daintily made yachting costume of blue
+serge and white braid, and round her white sailor hat she wore the
+name of the yacht stamped on a white ribbon; in her waist-band she
+had fastened two deep crimson roses, and she looked at us with frank,
+girlish curiosity, no doubt wondering whether we should add to or
+detract from the enjoyment of the expedition. She was rather tall,
+and there was an air of strength and energy about her which was most
+refreshing. Her skin was singularly white, but there was a healthy glow
+of colour in her cheeks; while her large, grey eyes, shaded by long
+lashes, were full of life and brightness. As to her features, they
+were perhaps a trifle irregular, and her elder sisters were supposed to
+eclipse her altogether; but to my mind she was far the most taking of
+the three.
+
+I was not in the least surprised that Derrick should fall head over ears
+in love with her; she was exactly the sort of girl that would infallibly
+attract him. Her absence of shyness; her straightforward, easy way of
+talking; her genuine goodheartedness; her devotion to animals--one of
+his own pet hobbies--and finally her exquisite playing, made the
+result a foregone conclusion. And then, moreover, they were perpetually
+together. He would hang over the piano in the saloon for hours while she
+played, the rest of us lazily enjoying the easy chairs and the fresh air
+on deck; and whenever we landed, these two were sure in the end to be
+just a little apart from the rest of us.
+
+It was an eminently successful cruise. We all liked each other; the sea
+was calm, the sunshine constant, the wind as a rule favourable, and I
+think I never in a single fortnight heard so many good stories, or had
+such a good time. We seemed to get right out of the world and its narrow
+restrictions, away from all that was hollow and base and depressing,
+only landing now and then at quaint little quiet places for some merry
+excursion on shore. Freda was in the highest spirits; and as to Derrick,
+he was a different creature. She seemed to have the power of drawing him
+out in a marvellous degree, and she took the greatest interest in his
+work--a sure way to every author's heart.
+
+But it was not till one day, when we landed at Tresco, that I felt
+certain she genuinely loved him--there in one glance the truth flashed
+upon me. I was walking with one of the gardeners down one of the long
+shady paths of that lovely little island, with its curiously foreign
+look, when we suddenly came face to face with Derrick and Freda. They
+were talking earnestly, and I could see her great grey eyes as they were
+lifted to his--perhaps they were more expressive than she knew--I cannot
+say. They both started a little as we confronted them, and the colour
+deepened in Freda's face. The gardener, with what photographers usually
+ask for--'just the faint beginning of a smile,'--turned and gathered a
+bit of white heather growing near.
+
+"They say it brings good luck, miss," he remarked, handing it to Freda.
+
+"Thank you," she said, laughing, "I hope it will bring it to me. At
+any rate it will remind me of this beautiful island. Isn't it just like
+Paradise, Mr. Wharncliffe?"
+
+"For me it is like Paradise before Eve was created," I replied, rather
+wickedly. "By the bye, are you going to keep all the good luck to
+yourself?"
+
+"I don't know," she said laughing. "Perhaps I shall; but you have only
+to ask the gardener, he will gather you another piece directly."
+
+I took good care to drop behind, having no taste for the third-fiddle
+business; but I noticed when we were in the gig once more, rowing back
+to the yacht, that the white heather had been equally divided--one half
+was in the waist-band of the blue serge dress, the other half in the
+button-hole of Derrick's blazer.
+
+So the fortnight slipped by, and at length one afternoon we found
+ourselves once more in Southampton Water; then came the bustle of
+packing and the hurry of departure, and the merry party dispersed.
+Derrick and I saw them all off at the station, for, as his father's ship
+did not arrive till the following day, I made up my mind to stay on with
+him at Southampton.
+
+"You will come and see us in town," said Lady Probyn, kindly. And Lord
+Probyn invited us both for the shooting at Blachington in September. "We
+will have the same party on shore, and see if we can't enjoy ourselves
+almost as well," he said in his hearty way; "the novel will go all the
+better for it, eh, Vaughan?"
+
+Derrick brightened visibly at the suggestion. I heard him talking to
+Freda all the time that Sir John stood laughing and joking as to the
+comparative pleasures of yachting and shooting.
+
+"You will be there too?" Derrick asked.
+
+"I can't tell," said Freda, and there was a shade of sadness in her
+tone. Her voice was deeper than most women's voices--a rich contralto
+with something striking and individual about it. I could hear her quite
+plainly; but Derrick spoke less distinctly--he always had a bad trick of
+mumbling.
+
+"You see I am the youngest," she said, "and I am not really 'out.'
+Perhaps my mother will wish one of the elder ones to go; but I half
+think they are already engaged for September, so after all I may have a
+chance."
+
+Inaudible remark from my friend.
+
+"Yes, I came here because my sisters did not care to leave London till
+the end of the season," replied the clear contralto. "It has been a
+perfect cruise. I shall remember it all my life."
+
+After that, nothing more was audible; but I imagine Derrick must have
+hazarded a more personal question, and that Freda had admitted that it
+was not only the actual sailing she should remember. At any rate her
+face when I caught sight of it again made me think of the girl described
+in the 'Biglow Papers':
+
+     "''Twas kin' o' kingdom come to look
+        On sech a blessed creatur.
+        A dogrose blushin' to a brook
+        Ain't modester nor sweeter.'"
+
+So the train went off, and Derrick and I were left to idle about
+Southampton and kill time as best we might. Derrick seemed to walk the
+streets in a sort of dream--he was perfectly well aware that he had met
+his fate, and at that time no thought of difficulties in the way had
+arisen either in his mind or in my own. We were both of us young and
+inexperienced; we were both of us in love, and we had the usual lover's
+notion that everything in heaven and earth is prepared to favour the
+course of his particular passion.
+
+I remember that we soon found the town intolerable, and, crossing by the
+ferry, walked over to Netley Abbey, and lay down idly in the shade of
+the old grey walls. Not a breath of wind stirred the great masses of
+ivy which were wreathed about the ruined church, and the place looked so
+lovely in its decay, that we felt disposed to judge the dissolute
+monks very leniently for having behaved so badly that their church and
+monastery had to be opened to the four winds of heaven. After all, when
+is a church so beautiful as when it has the green grass for its floor
+and the sky for its roof?
+
+I could show you the very spot near the East window where Derrick told
+me the whole truth, and where we talked over Freda's perfections and the
+probability of frequent meetings in London. He had listened so often and
+so patiently to my affairs, that it seemed an odd reversal to have to
+play the confidant; and if now and then my thoughts wandered off to the
+coming month at Mondisfield, and pictured violet eyes while he talked of
+grey, it was not from any lack of sympathy with my friend.
+
+Derrick was not of a self-tormenting nature, and though I knew he was
+amazed at the thought that such a girl as Freda could possibly care for
+him, yet he believed most implicitly that this wonderful thing had come
+to pass; and, remembering her face as we had last seen it, and the look
+in her eyes at Tresco, I, too, had not a shadow of a doubt that she
+really loved him. She was not the least bit of a flirt, and society
+had not had a chance yet of moulding her into the ordinary girl of the
+nineteenth century.
+
+Perhaps it was the sudden and unexpected change of the next day that
+makes me remember Derrick's face so distinctly as he lay back on the
+smooth turf that afternoon in Netley Abbey. As it looked then, full of
+youth and hope, full of that dream of cloudless love, I never saw it
+again.
+
+
+
+Chapter III.
+
+     "Religion in him never died, but became a habit--a habit of
+     enduring hardness, and cleaving to the steadfast performance
+     of duty in the face of the strongest allurements to the
+     pleasanter and easier course." Life of Charles Lamb, by A.
+     Ainger.
+
+Derrick was in good spirits the next day. He talked much of Major
+Vaughan, wondered whether the voyage home had restored his health,
+discussed the probable length of his leave, and speculated as to the
+nature of his illness; the telegram had of course given no details.
+
+"There has not been even a photograph for the last five years," he
+remarked, as we walked down to the quay together. "Yet I think I should
+know him anywhere, if it is only by his height. He used to look so well
+on horseback. I remember as a child seeing him in a sham fight charging
+up Caesar's Camp."
+
+"How old were you when he went out?"
+
+"Oh, quite a small boy," replied Derrick. "It was just before I first
+stayed with you. However, he has had a regular succession of photographs
+sent out to him, and will know me easily enough."
+
+Poor Derrick! I can't think of that day even now without a kind of
+mental shiver. We watched the great steamer as it glided up to the quay,
+and Derrick scanned the crowded deck with eager eyes, but could nowhere
+see the tall, soldierly figure that had lingered so long in his memory.
+He stood with his hand resting on the rail of the gangway, and when
+presently it was raised to the side of the steamer, he still kept his
+position, so that he could instantly catch sight of his father as he
+passed down. I stood close behind him, and watched the motley procession
+of passengers; most of them had the dull colourless skin which bespeaks
+long residence in India, and a particularly yellow and peevish-looking
+old man was grumbling loudly as he slowly made his way down the gangway.
+
+"The most disgraceful scene!" he remarked. "The fellow was as drunk as
+he could be."
+
+"Who was it?" asked his companion.
+
+"Why, Major Vaughan, to be sure. The only wonder is that he hasn't drunk
+himself to death by this time--been at it years enough!"
+
+Derrick turned, as though to shelter himself from the curious eyes of
+the travellers; but everywhere the quay was crowded. It seemed to me not
+unlike the life that lay before him, with this new shame which could not
+be hid, and I shall never forget the look of misery in his face.
+
+"Most likely a great exaggeration of that spiteful old fogey's," I said.
+"Never believe anything that you hear, is a sound axiom. Had you not
+better try to get on board?"
+
+"Yes; and for heaven's sake come with me, Wharncliffe!" he said. "It
+can't be true! It is, as you say, that man's spite, or else there is
+someone else of the name on board. That must be it--someone else of the
+name."
+
+I don't know whether he managed to deceive himself. We made our way
+on board, and he spoke to one of the stewards, who conducted us to the
+saloon. I knew from the expression of the man's face that the words we
+had overheard were but too true; it was a mere glance that he gave
+us, yet if he had said aloud, "They belong to that old drunkard! Thank
+heaven I'm not in their shoes!" I could not have better understood what
+was in his mind.
+
+There were three persons only in the great saloon: an officer's servant,
+whose appearance did not please me; a fine looking old man with grey
+hair and whiskers, and a rough-hewn honest face, apparently the ship's
+doctor; and a tall grizzled man in whom I at once saw a sort of horrible
+likeness to Derrick--horrible because this face was wicked and degraded,
+and because its owner was drunk--noisily drunk. Derrick paused for a
+minute, looking at his father; then, deadly pale, he turned to the old
+doctor. "I am Major Vaughan's son," he said.
+
+The doctor grasped his hand, and there was something in the old man's
+kindly, chivalrous manner which brought a sort of light into the gloom.
+
+"I am very glad to see you!" he exclaimed. "Is the Major's luggage
+ready?" he inquired turning to the servant. Then, as the man replied
+in the affirmative, "How would it be, Mr. Vaughan, if your father's man
+just saw the things into a cab? and then I'll come on shore with you and
+see my patient safely settled in."
+
+Derrick acquiesced, and the doctor turned to the Major, who was leaning
+up against one of the pillars of the saloon and shouting out "'Twas in
+Trafalgar Bay," in a way which, under other circumstances, would have
+been highly comic. The doctor interrupted him, as with much feeling he
+sang how:
+
+     "England declared that every man
+      That day had done his duty."
+
+"Look, Major," he said; "here is your son come to meet you."
+
+"Glad to see you, my boy," said the Major, reeling forward and running
+all his words together. "How's your mother? Is this Lawrence? Glad to
+see both of you! Why, you'r's like's two peas! Not Lawrence, do you say?
+Confound it, doctor, how the ship rolls to-day!"
+
+And the old wretch staggered and would have fallen, had not Derrick
+supported him and landed him safely on one of the fixed ottomans.
+
+"Yes, yes, you're the son for me," he went on, with a bland smile, which
+made his face all the more hideous. "You're not so rough and clumsy as
+that confounded John Thomas, whose hands are like brickbats. I'm a mere
+wreck, as you see; it's the accursed climate! But your mother will soon
+nurse me into health again; she was always a good nurse, poor soul!
+it was her best point. What with you and your mother, I shall soon be
+myself again."
+
+Here the doctor interposed, and Derrick made desperately for a porthole
+and gulped down mouthfuls of fresh air: but he was not allowed much of a
+respite, for the servant returned to say that he had procured a cab, and
+the Major called loudly for his son's arm.
+
+"I'll not have you," he said, pushing the servant violently away. "Come,
+Derrick, help me! you are worth two of that blockhead."
+
+And Derrick came quickly forward, his face still very pale, but with a
+dignity about it which I had never before seen; and, giving his arm
+to his drunken father, he piloted him across the saloon, through the
+staring ranks of stewards, officials, and tardy passengers outside,
+down the gangway, and over the crowded quay to the cab. I knew that each
+derisive glance of the spectators was to him like a sword-thrust, and
+longed to throttle the Major, who seemed to enjoy himself amazingly on
+terra firma, and sang at the top of his voice as we drove through
+the streets of Southampton. The old doctor kept up a cheery flow of
+small-talk with me, thinking, no doubt, that this would be a kindness to
+Derrick: and at last that purgatorial drive ended, and somehow Derrick
+and the doctor between them got the Major safely into his room at
+Radley's Hotel.
+
+We had ordered lunch in a private sitting-room, thinking that the Major
+would prefer it to the coffee-room; but, as it turned out, he was in no
+state to appear. They left him asleep, and the ship's doctor sat in
+the seat that had been prepared for his patient, and made the meal
+as tolerable to us both as it could be. He was an odd, old-fashioned
+fellow, but as true a gentleman as ever breathed.
+
+"Now," he said, when lunch was over, "you and I must have a talk
+together, Mr. Vaughan, and I will help you to understand your father's
+case."
+
+I made a movement to go, but sat down again at Derrick's request. I
+think, poor old fellow, he dreaded being alone, and knowing that I
+had seen his father at the worst, thought I might as well hear all
+particulars.
+
+"Major Vaughan," continued the doctor, "has now been under my care for
+some weeks, and I had some communication with the regimental surgeon
+about his case before he sailed. He is suffering from an enlarged
+liver, and the disease has been brought on by his unfortunate habit
+of over-indulgence in stimulants." I could almost have smiled, so very
+gently and considerately did the good old man veil in long words
+the shameful fact. "It is a habit sadly prevalent among our
+fellow-countrymen in India; the climate aggravates the mischief, and
+very many lives are in this way ruined. Then your father was also
+unfortunate enough to contract rheumatism when he was camping out in the
+jungle last year, and this is increasing on him very much, so that his
+life is almost intolerable to him, and he naturally flies for relief to
+his greatest enemy, drink. At all costs, however, you must keep him from
+stimulants; they will only intensify the disease and the sufferings, in
+fact they are poison to a man in such a state. Don't think I am a bigot
+in these matters; but I say that for a man in such a condition as this,
+there is nothing for it but total abstinence, and at all costs your
+father must be guarded from the possibility of procuring any sort of
+intoxicating drink. Throughout the voyage I have done my best to
+shield him, but it was a difficult matter. His servant, too, is not
+trustworthy, and should be dismissed if possible."
+
+"Had he spoken at all of his plans?" asked Derrick, and his voice
+sounded strangely unlike itself.
+
+"He asked me what place in England he had better settle down in," said
+the doctor, "and I strongly recommended him to try Bath. This seemed to
+please him, and if he is well enough he had better go there to-morrow.
+He mentioned your mother this morning; no doubt she will know how to
+manage him."
+
+"My mother died six months ago," said Derrick, pushing back his chair
+and beginning to pace the room. The doctor made kindly apologies.
+
+"Perhaps you have a sister, who could go to him?"
+
+"No," replied Derrick. "My only sister is married, and her husband would
+never allow it."
+
+"Or a cousin or an aunt?" suggested the old man, naively unconscious
+that the words sounded like a quotation.
+
+I saw the ghost of a smile flit over Derrick's harassed face as he shook
+his head.
+
+"I suggested that he should go into some Home for--cases of the kind,"
+resumed the doctor, "or place himself under the charge of some medical
+man; however, he won't hear of such a thing. But if he is left to
+himself--well, it is all up with him. He will drink himself to death in
+a few months."
+
+"He shall not be left alone," said Derrick; "I will live with him. Do
+you think I should do? It seems to be Hobson's choice."
+
+I looked up in amazement--for here was Derrick calmly giving himself up
+to a life that must crush every plan for the future he had made. Did men
+make such a choice as that while they took two or three turns in a room?
+Did they speak so composedly after a struggle that must have been so
+bitter? Thinking it over now, I feel sure it was his extraordinary gift
+of insight and his clear judgment which made him behave in this way. He
+instantly perceived and promptly acted; the worst of the suffering came
+long after.
+
+"Why, of course you are the very best person in the world for him,"
+said the doctor. "He has taken a fancy to you, and evidently you have a
+certain influence with him. If any one can save him it will be you."
+
+But the thought of allowing Derrick to be sacrificed to that old brute
+of a Major was more than I could bear calmly.
+
+"A more mad scheme was never proposed," I cried. "Why, doctor, it will
+be utter ruin to my friend's career; he will lose years that no one can
+ever make up. And besides, he is unfit for such a strain, he will never
+stand it."
+
+My heart felt hot as I thought of Derrick, with his highly-strung,
+sensitive nature, his refinement, his gentleness, in constant
+companionship with such a man as Major Vaughan.
+
+"My dear sir," said the old doctor, with a gleam in his eye, "I
+understand your feeling well enough. But depend upon it, your friend has
+made the right choice, and there is no doubt that he'll be strong enough
+to do his duty."
+
+The word reminded me of the Major's song, and my voice was abominably
+sarcastic in tone as I said to Derrick, "You no longer consider writing
+your duty then?"
+
+"Yes," he said, "but it must stand second to this. Don't be vexed,
+Sydney; our plans are knocked on the head, but it is not so bad as you
+make out. I have at any rate enough to live on, and can afford to wait."
+
+There was no more to be said, and the next day I saw that strange trio
+set out on their road to Bath. The Major looking more wicked when sober
+than he had done when drunk; the old doctor kindly and considerate as
+ever; and Derrick, with an air of resolution about that English face of
+his and a dauntless expression in his eyes which impressed me curiously.
+
+These quiet, reserved fellows are always giving one odd surprises.
+He had astonished me by the vigour and depth of the first volume of
+'Lynwood's Heritage.' He astonished me now by a new phase in his own
+character. Apparently he who had always been content to follow where I
+led, and to watch life rather than to take an active share in it, now
+intended to strike out a very decided line of his own.
+
+
+
+Chapter IV.
+
+     "Both Goethe and Schiller were profoundly convinced that Art
+     was no luxury of leisure, no mere amusement to charm the
+     idle, or relax the careworn; but a mighty influence, serious
+     in its aims although pleasureable in its means; a sister of
+     Religion, by whose aid the great world-scheme was wrought
+     into reality."  Lewes's Life of Goethe.
+
+Man is a selfish being, and I am a particularly fine specimen of the
+race as far as that characteristic goes. If I had had a dozen drunken
+parents I should never have danced attendance on one of them; yet in my
+secret soul I admired Derrick for the line he had taken, for we mostly
+do admire what is unlike ourselves and really noble, though it is the
+fashion to seem totally indifferent to everything in heaven and earth.
+But all the same I felt annoyed about the whole business, and was glad
+to forget it in my own affairs at Mondisfield.
+
+Weeks passed by. I lived through a midsummer dream of happiness, and a
+hard awaking. That, however, has nothing to do with Derrick's story,
+and may be passed over. In October I settled down in Montague Street,
+Bloomsbury, and began to read for the Bar, in about as disagreeable a
+frame of mind as can be conceived. One morning I found on my breakfast
+table a letter in Derrick's handwriting. Like most men, we hardly ever
+corresponded--what women say in the eternal letters they send to each
+other I can't conceive--but it struck me that under the circumstances
+I ought to have sent him a line to ask how he was getting on, and my
+conscience pricked me as I remembered that I had hardly thought of him
+since we parted, being absorbed in my own matters. The letter was not
+very long, but when one read between the lines it somehow told a good
+deal. I have it lying by me, and this is a copy of it:
+
+"Dear Sydney,--Do like a good fellow go to North Audley Street for me,
+to the house which I described to you as the one where Lynwood lodged,
+and tell me what he would see besides the church from his window--if
+shops, what kind? Also if any glimpse of Oxford Street would be visible.
+Then if you'll add to your favours by getting me a second-hand copy of
+Laveleye's 'Socialisme Contemporain,' I should be for ever grateful. We
+are settled in here all right. Bath is empty, but I people it as far as
+I can with the folk out of 'Evelina' and 'Persuasion.' How did you get
+on at Blachington? and which of the Misses Merrifield went in the end?
+Don't bother about the commissions. Any time will do.
+
+"Ever yours,
+
+"Derrick Vaughan."
+
+
+Poor old fellow! all the spirit seemed knocked out of him. There was not
+one word about the Major, and who could say what wretchedness was veiled
+in that curt phrase, "we are settled in all right"? All right! it was
+all as wrong as it could be! My blood began to boil at the thought of
+Derrick, with his great powers--his wonderful gift--cooped up in a place
+where the study of life was so limited and so dull. Then there was his
+hunger for news of Freda, and his silence as to what had kept him away
+from Blachington, and about all a sort of proud humility which prevented
+him from saying much that I should have expected him to say under the
+circumstances.
+
+It was Saturday, and my time was my own. I went out, got his book
+for him; interviewed North Audley Street; spent a bad five minutes in
+company with that villain 'Bradshaw,' who is responsible for so much of
+the brain and eye disease of the nineteenth century, and finally left
+Paddington in the Flying Dutchman, which landed me at Bath early in the
+afternoon. I left my portmanteau at the station, and walked through the
+city till I reached Gay Street. Like most of the streets of Bath, it
+was broad, and had on either hand dull, well-built, dark grey, eminently
+respectable, unutterably dreary-looking houses. I rang, and the door
+was opened to me by a most quaint old woman, evidently the landlady. An
+odour of curry pervaded the passage, and became more oppressive as the
+door of the sitting-room was opened, and I was ushered in upon the Major
+and his son, who had just finished lunch.
+
+"Hullo!" cried Derrick, springing up, his face full of delight which
+touched me, while at the same time it filled me with envy.
+
+Even the Major thought fit to give me a hearty welcome.
+
+"Glad to see you again," he said pleasantly enough. "It's a relief to
+have a fresh face to look at. We have a room which is quite at your
+disposal, and I hope you'll stay with us. Brought your portmanteau, eh?"
+
+"It is at the station," I replied.
+
+"See that it is sent for," he said to Derrick; "and show Mr. Wharncliffe
+all that is to be seen in this cursed hole of a place." Then, turning
+again to me, "Have you lunched? Very well, then, don't waste this fine
+afternoon in an invalid's room, but be off and enjoy yourself."
+
+So cordial was the old man, that I should have thought him already a
+reformed character, had I not found that he kept the rough side of his
+tongue for home use. Derrick placed a novel and a small handbell within
+his reach, and we were just going, when we were checked by a volley
+of oaths from the Major; then a book came flying across the room, well
+aimed at Derrick's head. He stepped aside, and let it fall with a crash
+on the sideboard.
+
+"What do you mean by giving me the second volume when you know I am in
+the third?" fumed the invalid.
+
+He apologised quietly, fetched the third volume, straightened the
+disordered leaves of the discarded second, and with the air of one well
+accustomed to such little domestic scenes, took up his hat and came out
+with me.
+
+"How long do you intend to go on playing David to the Major's Saul?"
+I asked, marvelling at the way in which he endured the humours of his
+father.
+
+"As long as I have the chance," he replied. "I say, are you sure you
+won't mind staying with us? It can't be a very comfortable household for
+an outsider."
+
+"Much better than for an insider, to all appearance," I replied. "I'm
+only too delighted to stay. And now, old fellow, tell me the honest
+truth--you didn't, you know, in your letter--how have you been getting
+on?"
+
+Derrick launched into an account of his father's ailments.
+
+"Oh, hang the Major! I don't care about him, I want to know about you,"
+I cried.
+
+"About me?" said Derrick doubtfully. "Oh, I'm right enough."
+
+"What do you do with yourself? How on earth do you kill time?" I asked.
+"Come, give me a full, true, and particular account of it all."
+
+"We have tried three other servants," said Derrick; "but the plan
+doesn't answer. They either won't stand it, or else they are bribed
+into smuggling brandy into the house. I find I can do most things for my
+father, and in the morning he has an attendant from the hospital who is
+trustworthy, and who does what is necessary for him. At ten we breakfast
+together, then there are the morning papers, which he likes to have read
+to him. After that I go round to the Pump Room with him--odd contrast
+now to what it must have been when Bath was the rage. Then we have
+lunch. In the afternoon, if he is well enough, we drive; if not he
+sleeps, and I get a walk. Later on an old Indian friend of his will
+sometimes drop in; if not he likes to be read to until dinner. After
+dinner we play chess--he is a first-rate player. At ten I help him to
+bed; from eleven to twelve I smoke and study Socialism and all the rest
+of it that Lynwood is at present floundering in."
+
+"Why don't you write, then?"
+
+"I tried it, but it didn't answer. I couldn't sleep after it, and was,
+in fact, too tired; seems absurd to be tired after such a day as that,
+but somehow it takes it out of one more than the hardest reading; I
+don't know why."
+
+"Why," I said angrily, "it's because it is work to which you are quite
+unsuited--work for a thick-skinned, hard-hearted, uncultivated and
+well-paid attendant, not for the novelist who is to be the chief light
+of our generation."
+
+He laughed at this estimate of his powers.
+
+"Novelists, like other cattle, have to obey their owner," he said
+lightly.
+
+I thought for a moment that he meant the Major, and was breaking into an
+angry remonstrance, when I saw that he meant something quite different.
+It was always his strongest point, this extraordinary consciousness of
+right, this unwavering belief that he had to do and therefore could do
+certain things. Without this, I know that he never wrote a line, and in
+my heart I believe this was the cause of his success.
+
+"Then you are not writing at all?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, I write generally for a couple of hours before breakfast," he
+said.
+
+And that evening we sat by his gas stove and he read me the next four
+chapters of 'Lynwood.' He had rather a dismal lodging-house bedroom,
+with faded wall-paper and a prosaic snuff-coloured carpet. On a rickety
+table in the window was his desk, and a portfolio full of blue foolscap,
+but he had done what he could to make the place habitable; his Oxford
+pictures were on the walls--Hoffman's 'Christ speaking to the Woman
+taken in Adultery,' hanging over the mantelpiece--it had always been a
+favourite of his. I remember that, as he read the description of Lynwood
+and his wife, I kept looking from him to the Christ in the picture till
+I could almost have fancied that each face bore the same expression. Had
+this strange monotonous life with that old brute of a Major brought him
+some new perception of those words, "Neither do I condemn thee"? But
+when he stopped reading, I, true to my character, forgot his affairs in
+my own, as we sat talking far into the night--talking of that luckless
+month at Mondisfield, of all the problems it had opened up, and of my
+wretchedness.
+
+"You were in town all September?" he asked; "you gave up Blachington?"
+
+"Yes," I replied. "What did I care for country houses in such a mood as
+that."
+
+He acquiesced, and I went on talking of my grievances, and it was not
+till I was in the train on my way back to London that I remembered how
+a look of disappointment had passed over his face just at the moment.
+Evidently he had counted on learning something about Freda from me, and
+I--well, I had clean forgotten both her existence and his passionate
+love.
+
+Something, probably self-interest, the desire for my friend's company,
+and so forth, took me down to Bath pretty frequently in those days;
+luckily the Major had a sort of liking for me, and was always polite
+enough; and dear old Derrick--well, I believe my visits really helped
+to brighten him up. At any rate he said he couldn't have borne his life
+without them, and for a sceptical, dismal, cynical fellow like me to
+hear that was somehow flattering. The mere force of contrast did me
+good. I used to come back on the Monday wondering that Derrick didn't
+cut his throat, and realising that, after all, it was something to be
+a free agent, and to have comfortable rooms in Montague Street, with
+no old bear of a drunkard to disturb my peace. And then a sort of
+admiration sprang up in my heart, and the cynicism bred of melancholy
+broodings over solitary pipes was less rampant than usual.
+
+It was, I think, early in the new year that I met Lawrence Vaughan in
+Bath. He was not staying at Gay Street, so I could still have the vacant
+room next to Derrick's. Lawrence put up at the York House Hotel.
+
+"For you know," he informed me, "I really can't stand the governor for
+more than an hour or two at a time."
+
+"Derrick manages to do it," I said.
+
+"Oh, Derrick, yes," he replied, "it's his metier, and he is well
+accustomed to the life. Besides, you know, he is such a dreamy, quiet
+sort of fellow; he lives all the time in a world of his own creation,
+and bears the discomforts of this world with great philosophy. Actually
+he has turned teetotaller! It would kill me in a week."
+
+I make a point of never arguing with a fellow like that, but I think I
+had a vindictive longing, as I looked at him, to shut him up with the
+Major for a month, and see what would happen.
+
+These twin brothers were curiously alike in face and curiously unlike in
+nature. So much for the great science of physiognomy! It often seemed to
+me that they were the complement of each other. For instance, Derrick in
+society was extremely silent, Lawrence was a rattling talker; Derrick,
+when alone with you, would now and then reveal unsuspected depths of
+thought and expression; Lawrence, when alone with you, very frequently
+showed himself to be a cad. The elder twin was modest and diffident, the
+younger inclined to brag; the one had a strong tendency to melancholy,
+the other was blest or cursed with the sort of temperament which has
+been said to accompany "a hard heart and a good digestion."
+
+I was not surprised to find that the son who could not tolerate the
+governor's presence for more than an hour or two, was a prime favourite
+with the old man; that was just the way of the world. Of course, the
+Major was as polite as possible to him; Derrick got the kicks and
+Lawrence the half-pence.
+
+In the evenings we played whist, Lawrence coming in after dinner, "For,
+you know," he explained to me, "I really couldn't get through a meal
+with nothing but those infernal mineral waters to wash it down."
+
+And here I must own that at my first visit I had sailed rather close to
+the wind; for when the Major, like the Hatter in 'Alice,' pressed me
+to take wine, I--not seeing any--had answered that I did not take it;
+mentally adding the words, "in your house, you brute!"
+
+The two brothers were fond of each other after a fashion. But Derrick
+was human, and had his faults like the rest of us; and I am pretty sure
+he did not much enjoy the sight of his father's foolish and unreasonable
+devotion to Lawrence. If you come to think of it, he would have been a
+full-fledged angel if no jealous pang, no reflection that it was rather
+rough on him, had crossed his mind, when he saw his younger brother
+treated with every mark of respect and liking, and knew that Lawrence
+would never stir a finger really to help the poor fractious invalid.
+Unluckily they happened one night to get on the subject of professions.
+
+"It's a comfort," said the Major, in his sarcastic way, "to have a
+fellow-soldier to talk to instead of a quill-driver, who as yet is not
+even a penny-a-liner. Eh, Derrick? Don't you feel inclined to regret
+your fool's choice now? You might have been starting off for the war
+with Lawrence next week, if you hadn't chosen what you're pleased to
+call a literary life. Literary life, indeed! I little thought a son of
+mine would ever have been so wanting in spirit as to prefer dabbling in
+ink to a life of action--to be the scribbler of mere words, rather than
+an officer of dragoons."
+
+Then to my astonishment Derrick sprang to his feet in hot indignation.
+I never saw him look so handsome, before or since; for his anger was
+not the distorting, devilish anger that the Major gave way to, but real
+downright wrath.
+
+"You speak contemptuously of mere novels," he said in a low voice, yet
+more clearly than usual, and as if the words were wrung out of him.
+"What right have you to look down on one of the greatest weapons of the
+day? and why is a writer to submit to scoffs and insults and tamely to
+hear his profession reviled? I have chosen to write the message that
+has been given me, and I don't regret the choice. Should I have shown
+greater spirit if I had sold my freedom and right of judgment to be one
+of the national killing machines?"
+
+With that he threw down his cards and strode out of the room in a white
+heat of anger. It was a pity he made that last remark, for it put him
+in the wrong and needlessly annoyed Lawrence and the Major. But an angry
+man has no time to weigh his words, and, as I said, poor old Derrick
+was very human, and when wounded too intolerably could on occasion
+retaliate.
+
+The Major uttered an oath and looked in astonishment at the retreating
+figure. Derrick was such an extraordinarily quiet, respectful,
+long-suffering son as a rule, that this outburst was startling in the
+extreme. Moreover, it spoilt the game, and the old man, chafed by the
+result of his own ill-nature, and helpless to bring back his partner,
+was forced to betake himself to chess. I left him grumbling away to
+Lawrence about the vanity of authors, and went out in the hope of
+finding Derrick. As I left the house I saw someone turn the corner into
+the Circus, and starting in pursuit, overtook the tall, dark figure
+where Bennett Street opens on to the Lansdowne Hill.
+
+"I'm glad you spoke up, old fellow," I said, taking his arm.
+
+He modified his pace a little. "Why is it," he exclaimed, "that every
+other profession can be taken seriously, but that a novelist's work is
+supposed to be mere play? Good God! don't we suffer enough? Have we
+not hard brain work and drudgery of desk work and tedious gathering of
+statistics and troublesome search into details? Have we not an appalling
+weight of responsibility on us?--and are we not at the mercy of a
+thousand capricious chances?"
+
+"Come now," I exclaimed, "you know that you are never so happy as when
+you are writing."
+
+"Of course," he replied; "but that doesn't make me resent such an attack
+the less. Besides, you don't know what it is to have to write in such an
+atmosphere as ours; it's like a weight on one's pen. This life here is
+not life at all--it's a daily death, and it's killing the book too; the
+last chapters are wretched--I'm utterly dissatisfied with them."
+
+"As for that," I said calmly, "you are no judge at all. You can never
+tell the worth of your own work; the last bit is splendid."
+
+"I could have done it better," he groaned. "But there is always a
+ghastly depression dragging one back here--and then the time is so
+short; just as one gets into the swing of it the breakfast bell rings,
+and then comes--" He broke off.
+
+I could well supply the end of the sentence, however, for I knew that
+then came the slow torture of a tete-a-tete day with the Major, stinging
+sarcasms, humiliating scoldings, vexations and difficulties innumerable.
+
+I drew him to the left, having no mind to go to the top of the hill.
+We slackened our pace again and walked to and fro along the broad level
+pavement of Lansdowne Crescent. We had it entirely to ourselves--not
+another creature was in sight.
+
+"I could bear it all," he burst forth, "if only there was a chance of
+seeing Freda. Oh, you are better off than I am--at least, you know the
+worst. Your hope is killed, but mine lives on a tortured, starved life!
+Would to God I had never seen her!"
+
+Certainly before that night I had never quite realised the
+irrevocableness of poor Derrick's passion. I had half hoped that time
+and separation would gradually efface Freda Merrifield from his memory;
+and I listened with a dire foreboding to the flood of wretchedness
+which he poured forth as we paced up and down, thinking now and then how
+little people guessed at the tremendous powers hidden under his usually
+quiet exterior.
+
+At length he paused, but his last heart-broken words seemed to vibrate
+in the air and to force me to speak some kind of comfort.
+
+"Derrick," I said, "come back with me to London--give up this miserable
+life."
+
+I felt him start a little; evidently no thought of yielding had come
+to him before. We were passing the house that used to belong to that
+strange book-lover and recluse, Beckford. I looked up at the blank
+windows, and thought of that curious, self-centred life in the past,
+surrounded by every luxury, able to indulge every whim; and then I
+looked at my companion's pale, tortured face, and thought of the life
+he had elected to lead in the hope of saving one whom duty bound him to
+honour. After all, which life was the most worth living--which was the
+most to be admired?
+
+We walked on; down below us and up on the farther hill we could see the
+lights of Bath; the place so beautiful by day looked now like a fairy
+city, and the Abbey, looming up against the moon-lit sky, seemed like
+some great giant keeping watch over the clustering roofs below. The
+well-known chimes rang out into the night and the clock struck ten.
+
+"I must go back," said Derrick, quietly. "My father will want to get to
+bed."
+
+I couldn't say a word; we turned, passed Beckford's house once more,
+walked briskly down the hill, and reached the Gay Street lodging-house.
+I remember the stifling heat of the room as we entered it, and its
+contrast to the cool, dark, winter's night outside. I can vividly
+recall, too, the old Major's face as he looked up with a sarcastic
+remark, but with a shade of anxiety in his bloodshot eyes. He was
+leaning back in a green-cushioned chair, and his ghastly yellow
+complexion seemed to me more noticeable than usual--his scanty grey
+hair and whiskers, the lines of pain so plainly visible in his face,
+impressed me curiously. I think I had never before realised what a wreck
+of a man he was--how utterly dependent on others.
+
+Lawrence, who, to do him justice, had a good deal of tact, and who, I
+believe, cared for his brother as much as he was capable of caring
+for any one but himself, repeated a good story with which he had been
+enlivening the Major, and I did what I could to keep up the talk.
+Derrick meanwhile put away the chessmen, and lighted the Major's candle.
+He even managed to force up a laugh at Lawrence's story, and, as he
+helped his father out of the room, I think I was the only one who
+noticed the look of tired endurance in his eyes.
+
+
+
+Chapter V.
+
+                                     "I know
+      How far high failure overtops the bounds
+      Of low successes.  Only suffering draws
+      The inner heart of song, and can elicit
+      The perfumes of the soul."
+                                Epic of Hades.
+
+Next week, Lawrence went off like a hero to the war; and my friend--also
+I think like a hero--stayed on at Bath, enduring as best he could the
+worst form of loneliness; for undoubtedly there is no loneliness so
+frightful as constant companionship with an uncongenial person. He had,
+however, one consolation: the Major's health steadily improved, under
+the joint influence of total abstinence and Bath water, and, with the
+improvement, his temper became a little better.
+
+But one Saturday, when I had run down to Bath without writing
+beforehand, I suddenly found a different state of things. In Orange
+Grove I met Dr. Mackrill, the Major's medical man; he used now and then
+to play whist with us on Saturday nights, and I stopped to speak to him.
+
+"Oh! you've come down again. That's all right!" he said. "Your friend
+wants someone to cheer him up. He's got his arm broken."
+
+"How on earth did he manage that?" I asked.
+
+"Well, that's more than I can tell you," said the Doctor, with an odd
+look in his eyes, as if he guessed more than he would put into words.
+"All that I could get out of him was that it was done accidentally. The
+Major is not so well--no whist for us to-night, I'm afraid."
+
+He passed on, and I made my way to Gay Street. There was an air of
+mystery about the quaint old landlady; she looked brimful of news when
+she opened the door to me, but she managed to 'keep herself to herself,'
+and showed me in upon the Major and Derrick, rather triumphantly I
+thought. The Major looked terribly ill--worse than I had ever seen
+him, and as for Derrick, he had the strangest look of shrinking and
+shame-facedness you ever saw. He said he was glad to see me, but I knew
+that he lied. He would have given anything to have kept me away.
+
+"Broken your arm?" I exclaimed, feeling bound to take some notice of the
+sling.
+
+"Yes," he replied; "met with an accident to it. But luckily it's only
+the left one, so it doesn't hinder me much! I have finished seven
+chapters of the last volume of 'Lynwood,' and was just wanting to ask
+you a legal question."
+
+All this time his eyes bore my scrutiny defiantly; they seemed to dare
+me to say one other word about the broken arm. I didn't dare--indeed to
+this day I have never mentioned the subject to him.
+
+But that evening, while he was helping the Major to bed, the old
+landlady made some pretext for toiling up to the top of the house, where
+I sat smoking in Derrick's room.
+
+"You'll excuse my making bold to speak to you, sir," she said. I threw
+down my newspaper, and, looking up, saw that she was bubbling over with
+some story.
+
+"Well?" I said, encouragingly.
+
+"It's about Mr. Vaughan, sir, I wanted to speak to you. I really do
+think, sir, it's not safe he should be left alone with his father, sir,
+any longer. Such doings as we had here the other day, sir! Somehow or
+other--and none of us can't think how--the Major had managed to get hold
+of a bottle of brandy. How he had it I don't know; but we none of us
+suspected him, and in the afternoon he says he was too poorly to go for
+a drive or to go out in his chair, and settles off on the parlour sofa
+for a nap while Mr. Vaughan goes out for a walk. Mr. Vaughan was out a
+couple of hours. I heard him come in and go into the sitting-room;
+then there came sounds of voices, and a scuffling of feet and moving of
+chairs, and I knew something was wrong and hurried up to the door--and
+just then came a crash like fire-irons, and I could hear the Major
+a-swearing fearful. Not hearing a sound from Mr. Vaughan, I got scared,
+sir, and opened the door, and there I saw the Major a leaning up against
+the mantelpiece as drunk as a lord, and his son seemed to have got the
+bottle from him; it was half empty, and when he saw me he just handed it
+to me and ordered me to take it away. Then between us we got the Major
+to lie down on the sofa and left him there. When we got out into the
+passage Mr. Vaughan he leant against the wall for a minute, looking as
+white as a sheet, and then I noticed for the first time that his left
+arm was hanging down at his side. 'Lord! sir,' I cried, 'your arm's
+broken.' And he went all at once as red as he had been pale just before,
+and said he had got it done accidentally, and bade me say nothing about
+it, and walked off there and then to the doctor's, and had it set. But
+sir, given a man drunk as the Major was, and given a scuffle to get away
+the drink that was poisoning him, and given a crash such as I heard,
+and given a poker a-lying in the middle of the room where it stands to
+reason no poker could get unless it was thrown--why, sir, no sensible
+woman who can put two and two together can doubt that it was all the
+Major's doing."
+
+"Yes," I said, "that is clear enough; but for Mr. Vaughan's sake we must
+hush it up; and, as for safety, why, the Major is hardly strong enough
+to do him any worse damage than that."
+
+The good old thing wiped away a tear from her eyes. She was very fond of
+Derrick, and it went to her heart that he should lead such a dog's life.
+
+I said what I could to comfort her, and she went down again, fearful
+lest he should discover her upstairs and guess that she had opened her
+heart to me.
+
+Poor Derrick! That he of all people on earth should be mixed up with
+such a police court story--with drunkard, and violence, and pokers
+figuring in it! I lay back in the camp chair and looked at Hoffman's
+'Christ,' and thought of all the extraordinary problems that one is for
+ever coming across in life. And I wondered whether the people of Bath
+who saw the tall, impassive-looking, hazel-eyed son and the invalid
+father in their daily pilgrimages to the Pump Room, or in church on
+Sunday, or in the Park on sunny afternoons had the least notion of
+the tragedy that was going on. My reflections were interrupted by his
+entrance. He had forced up a cheerfulness that I am sure he didn't
+really feel, and seemed afraid of letting our talk flag for a moment. I
+remember, too, that for the first time he offered to read me his novel,
+instead of as usual waiting for me to ask to hear it. I can see him
+now, fetching the untidy portfolio and turning over the pages, adroitly
+enough, as though anxious to show how immaterial was the loss of a left
+arm. That night I listened to the first half of the third volume of
+'Lynwood's Heritage,' and couldn't help reflecting that its author
+seemed to thrive on misery; and yet how I grudged him to this
+deadly-lively place, and this monotonous, cooped-up life.
+
+"How do you manage to write one-handed?" I asked.
+
+And he sat down to his desk, put a letter-weight on the left-hand corner
+of the sheet of foolscap, and wrote that comical first paragraph of the
+eighth chapter over which we have all laughed. I suppose few readers
+guessed the author's state of mind when he wrote it. I looked over his
+shoulder to see what he had written, and couldn't help laughing aloud--I
+verily believe that it was his way of turning off attention from his
+arm, and leading me safely from the region of awkward questions.
+
+"By-the-by," I exclaimed, "your writing of garden-parties reminds me. I
+went to one at Campden Hill the other day, and had the good fortune to
+meet Miss Freda Merrifield."
+
+How his face lighted up, poor fellow, and what a flood of questions he
+poured out. "She looked very well and very pretty," I replied. "I played
+two sets of tennis with her. She asked after you directly she saw me,
+seeming to think that we always hunted in couples. I told her you were
+living here, taking care of an invalid father; but just then up came
+the others to arrange the game. She and I got the best courts, and as we
+crossed over to them she told me she had met your brother several times
+last autumn, when she had been staying near Aldershot. Odd that he never
+mentioned her here; but I don't suppose she made much impression on him.
+She is not at all his style."
+
+"Did you have much more talk with her?" he asked.
+
+"No, nothing to be called talk. She told me they were leaving London
+next week, and she was longing to get back to the country to her beloved
+animals--rabbits, poultry, an aviary, and all that kind of thing. I
+should gather that they had kept her rather in the background this
+season, but I understand that the eldest sister is to be married in the
+winter, and then no doubt Miss Freda will be brought forward."
+
+He seemed wonderfully cheered by this opportune meeting, and though
+there was so little to tell he appeared to be quite content. I left him
+on Monday in fairly good spirits, and did not come across him again till
+September, when his arm was well, and his novel finished and revised. He
+never made two copies of his work, and I fancy this was perhaps because
+he spent so short a time each day in actual writing, and lived so
+continually in his work; moreover, as I said before, he detested
+penmanship.
+
+The last part of 'Lynwood' far exceeded my expectations; perhaps--yet I
+don't really think so--I viewed it too favourably. But I owed the book
+a debt of gratitude, since it certainly helped me through the worst part
+of my life.
+
+"Don't you feel flat now it is finished?" I asked.
+
+"I felt so miserable that I had to plunge into another story three days
+after," he replied; and then and there he gave me the sketch of his
+second novel, 'At Strife,' and told me how he meant to weave in his
+childish fancies about the defence of the bridge in the Civil Wars.
+
+"And about 'Lynwood?' Are you coming up to town to hawk him round?" I
+asked.
+
+"I can't do that," he said; "you see I am tied here. No, I must send him
+off by rail, and let him take his chance."
+
+"No such thing!" I cried. "If you can't leave Bath I will take him round
+for you."
+
+And Derrick, who with the oddest inconsistency would let his MS. lie
+about anyhow at home, but hated the thought of sending it out alone on
+its travels, gladly accepted my offer. So next week I set off with the
+huge brown paper parcel; few, however, will appreciate my good nature,
+for no one but an author or a publisher knows the fearful weight of a
+three volume novel in MS.! To my intense satisfaction I soon got rid of
+it, for the first good firm to which I took it received it with great
+politeness, to be handed over to their 'reader' for an opinion; and
+apparently the 'reader's' opinion coincided with mine, for a month
+later Derrick received an offer for it with which he at once closed--not
+because it was a good one, but because the firm was well thought of,
+and because he wished to lose no time, but to have the book published at
+once. I happened to be there when his first 'proofs' arrived. The Major
+had had an attack of jaundice, and was in a fiendish humour. We had
+a miserable time of it at dinner, for he badgered Derrick almost past
+bearing, and I think the poor old fellow minded it more when there was
+a third person present. Somehow through all he managed to keep his
+extraordinary capacity for reverencing mere age--even this degraded and
+detestable old age of the Major's. I often thought that in this he
+was like my own ancestor, Hugo Wharncliffe, whose deference and
+respectfulness and patience had not descended to me, while unfortunately
+the effects of his physical infirmities had. I sometimes used to
+reflect bitterly enough on the truth of Herbert Spencer's teaching as to
+heredity, so clearly shown in my own case. In the year 1683, through
+the abominable cruelty and harshness of his brother Randolph, this Hugo
+Wharncliffe, my great-great-great-great-great grandfather, was immured
+in Newgate, and his constitution was thereby so much impaired and
+enfeebled that, two hundred years after, my constitution is paying the
+penalty, and my whole life is thereby changed and thwarted. Hence this
+childless Randolph is affecting the course of several lives in the 19th
+century to their grievous hurt.
+
+But revenons a nos moutons--that is to say, to our lion and lamb--the
+old brute of a Major and his long-suffering son.
+
+While the table was being cleared, the Major took forty winks on the
+sofa, and we two beat a retreat, lit up our pipes in the passage, and
+were just turning out when the postman's double knock came, but no
+showers of letters in the box. Derrick threw open the door, and the man
+handed him a fat, stumpy-looking roll in a pink wrapper.
+
+"I say!" he exclaimed, "PROOFS!"
+
+And, in hot haste, he began tearing away the pink paper, till out came
+the clean, folded bits of printing and the dirty and dishevelled blue
+foolscap, the look of which I knew so well. It is an odd feeling, that
+first seeing one's self in print, and I could guess, even then, what a
+thrill shot through Derrick as he turned over the pages. But he would
+not take them into the sitting-room, no doubt dreading another diatribe
+against his profession; and we solemnly played euchre, and patiently
+endured the Major's withering sarcasms till ten o'clock sounded our
+happy release.
+
+However, to make a long story short, a month later--that is, at the end
+of November--'Lynwood's Heritage' was published in three volumes with
+maroon cloth and gilt lettering. Derrick had distributed among his
+friends the publishers' announcement of the day of publication; and when
+it was out I besieged the libraries for it, always expressing surprise
+if I did not find it in their lists. Then began the time of reviews. As
+I had expected, they were extremely favourable, with the exception of
+the Herald, the Stroller, and the Hour, which made it rather hot for
+him, the latter in particular pitching into his views and assuring
+its readers that the book was 'dangerous,' and its author a believer
+in--various thing especially repugnant to Derrick, at it happened.
+
+I was with him when he read these reviews. Over the cleverness of the
+satirical attack in the Weekly Herald he laughed heartily, though
+the laugh was against himself; and as to the critic who wrote in the
+Stroller it was apparent to all who knew 'Lynwood' that he had not read
+much of the book; but over this review in the Hour he was genuinely
+angry--it hurt him personally, and, as it afterwards turned out, played
+no small part in the story of his life. The good reviews, however, were
+many, and their recommendation of the book hearty; they all prophesied
+that it would be a great success. Yet, spite of this, 'Lynwood's
+Heritage' didn't sell. Was it, as I had feared, that Derrick was too
+devoid of the pushing faculty ever to make a successful writer? Or was
+it that he was handicapped by being down in the provinces playing keeper
+to that abominable old bear? Anyhow, the book was well received, read
+with enthusiasm by an extremely small circle, and then it dropped down
+to the bottom among the mass of overlooked literature, and its career
+seemed to be over. I can recall the look in Derrick's face when one day
+he glanced through the new Mudie and Smith lists and found 'Lynwood's
+Heritage' no longer down. I had been trying to cheer him up about the
+book and quoting all the favourable remarks I had heard about it. But
+unluckily this was damning evidence against my optimist view.
+
+He sighed heavily and put down the lists.
+
+"It's no use to deceive one's self," he said, drearily, "'Lynwood' has
+failed."
+
+Something in the deep depression of look and tone gave me a momentary
+insight into the author's heart. He thought, I know, of the agony of
+mind this book had cost him; of those long months of waiting and their
+deadly struggle, of the hopes which had made all he passed through seem
+so well worth while; and the bitterness of the disappointment was no
+doubt intensified by the knowledge that the Major would rejoice over it.
+
+We walked that afternoon along the Bradford Valley, a road which Derrick
+was specially fond of. He loved the thickly-wooded hills, and the
+glimpses of the Avon, which, flanked by the canal and the railway, runs
+parallel with the high road; he always admired, too, a certain little
+village with grey stone cottages which lay in this direction, and liked
+to look at the site of the old hall near the road: nothing remained of
+it but the tall gate posts and rusty iron gates looking strangely dreary
+and deserted, and within one could see, between some dark yew trees,
+an old terrace walk with stone steps and balustrades--the most
+ghostly-looking place you can conceive.
+
+"I know you'll put this into a book some day," I said, laughing.
+
+"Yes," he said, "it is already beginning to simmer in my brain."
+Apparently his deep disappointment as to his first venture had in no way
+affected his perfectly clear consciousness that, come what would, he had
+to write.
+
+As we walked back to Bath he told me his 'Ruined Hall' story as far as
+it had yet evolved itself in his brain, and we were still discussing it
+when in Milsom Street we met a boy crying evening papers, and details of
+the last great battle at Saspataras Hill.
+
+Derrick broke off hastily, everything but anxiety for Lawrence driven
+from his mind.
+
+
+
+Chapter VI.
+
+     "Say not, O Soul, thou art defeated,
+        Because thou art distressed;
+      If thou of better thing art cheated,
+        Thou canst not be of best."
+                              T. T. Lynch.
+
+"Good heavens, Sydney!" he exclaimed in great excitement and with his
+whole face aglow with pleasure, "look here!"
+
+He pointed to a few lines in the paper which mentioned the heroic
+conduct of Lieutenant L. Vaughan, who at the risk of his life had
+rescued a brother officer when surrounded by the enemy and completely
+disabled. Lieutenant Vaughan had managed to mount the wounded man on his
+own horse and had miraculously escaped himself with nothing worse than a
+sword-thrust in the left arm.
+
+We went home in triumph to the Major, and Derrick read the whole account
+aloud. With all his detestation of war, he was nevertheless greatly
+stirred by the description of the gallant defence of the attacked
+position--and for a time we were all at one, and could talk of nothing
+but Lawrence's heroism, and Victoria Crosses, and the prospects of
+peace. However, all too soon, the Major's fiendish temper returned,
+and he began to use the event of the day as a weapon against Derrick,
+continually taunting him with the contrast between his stay-at-home life
+of scribbling and Lawrence's life of heroic adventure. I could never
+make out whether he wanted to goad his son into leaving him, in order
+that he might drink himself to death in peace, or whether he merely
+indulged in his natural love of tormenting, valuing Derrick's devotion
+as conducive to his own comfort, and knowing that hard words would not
+drive him from what he deemed to be his duty. I rather incline to the
+latter view, but the old Major was always an enigma to me; nor can I
+to this day make out his raison-d'etre, except on the theory that the
+training of a novelist required a course of slow torture, and that the
+old man was sent into the world to be a sort of thorn in the flesh of
+Derrick.
+
+What with the disappointment about his first book, and the difficulty
+of writing his second, the fierce craving for Freda's presence, the
+struggle not to allow his admiration for Lawrence's bravery to become
+poisoned by envy under the influence of the Major's incessant attacks,
+Derrick had just then a hard time of it. He never complained, but I
+noticed a great change in him; his melancholy increased, his flashes of
+humour and merriment became fewer and fewer--I began to be afraid that
+he would break down.
+
+"For God's sake!" I exclaimed one evening when left alone with the
+Doctor after an evening of whist, "do order the Major to London. Derrick
+has been mewed up here with him for nearly two years, and I don't think
+he can stand it much longer."
+
+So the Doctor kindly contrived to advise the Major to consult a
+well-known London physician, and to spend a fortnight in town, further
+suggesting that a month at Ben Rhydding might be enjoyable before
+settling down at Bath again for the winter. Luckily the Major took to
+the idea, and just as Lawrence returned from the war Derrick and his
+father arrived in town. The change seemed likely to work well, and I was
+able now and then to release my friend and play cribbage with the old
+man for an hour or two while Derrick tore about London, interviewed his
+publisher, made researches into seventeenth century documents at the
+British Museum, and somehow managed in his rapid way to acquire those
+glimpses of life and character which he afterwards turned to such good
+account. All was grist that came to his mill, and at first the mere
+sight of his old home, London, seemed to revive him. Of course at the
+very first opportunity he called at the Probyns', and we both of us had
+an invitation to go there on the following Wednesday to see the march
+past of the troops and to lunch. Derrick was nearly beside himself at
+the prospect, for he knew that he should certainly meet Freda at last,
+and the mingled pain and bliss of being actually in the same place with
+her, yet as completely separated as if seas rolled between them, was
+beginning to try him terribly.
+
+Meantime Lawrence had turned up again, greatly improved in every way by
+all that he had lived through, but rather too ready to fall in with
+his father's tone towards Derrick. The relations between the two
+brothers--always a little peculiar--became more and more difficult, and
+the Major seemed to enjoy pitting them against each other.
+
+At length the day of the review arrived. Derrick was not looking well,
+his eyes were heavy with sleeplessness, and the Major had been unusually
+exasperating at breakfast that morning, so that he started with a jaded,
+worn-out feeling that would not wholly yield even to the excitement
+of this long-expected meeting with Freda. When he found himself in the
+great drawing-room at Lord Probyn's house, amid a buzz of talk and a
+crowd of strange faces, he was seized with one of those sudden attacks
+of shyness to which he was always liable. In fact, he had been so long
+alone with the old Major that this plunge into society was too great a
+reaction, and the very thing he had longed for became a torture to him.
+
+Freda was at the other end of the room talking to Keith Collins, the
+well-known member for Codrington, whose curious but attractive face was
+known to all the world through the caricatures of it in 'Punch.' I knew
+that she saw Derrick, and that he instantly perceived her, and that a
+miserable sense of separation, of distance, of hopelessness overwhelmed
+him as he looked. After all, it was natural enough. For two years he
+had thought of Freda night and day; in his unutterably dreary life her
+memory had been his refreshment, his solace, his companion. Now he was
+suddenly brought face to face, not with the Freda of his dreams, but
+with a fashionable, beautifully dressed, much-sought girl, and he felt
+that a gulf lay between them; it was the gulf of experience. Freda's
+life in society, the whirl of gaiety, the excitement and success which
+she had been enjoying throughout the season, and his miserable monotony
+of companionship with his invalid father, of hard work and weary
+disappointment, had broken down the bond of union that had once existed
+between them. From either side they looked at each other--Freda with a
+wondering perplexity, Derrick with a dull grinding pain at his heart.
+
+Of course they spoke to each other; but I fancy the merest platitudes
+passed between them. Somehow they had lost touch, and a crowded London
+drawing-room was hardly the place to regain it.
+
+"So your novel is really out," I heard her say to him in that deep,
+clear voice of hers. "I like the design on the cover."
+
+"Oh, have you read the book?" said Derrick, colouring.
+
+"Well, no," she said truthfully. "I wanted to read it, but my father
+wouldn't let me--he is very particular about what we read."
+
+That frank but not very happily worded answer was like a stab to poor
+Derrick. He had given to the world then a book that was not fit for her
+to read! This 'Lynwood,' which had been written with his own heart's
+blood, was counted a dangerous, poisonous thing, from which she must be
+guarded!
+
+Freda must have seen that she had hurt him, for she tried hard to
+retrieve her words.
+
+"It was tantalising to have it actually in the house, wasn't it? I have
+a grudge against the Hour, for it was the review in that which set
+my father against it." Then rather anxious to leave the difficult
+subject--"And has your brother quite recovered from his wound?"
+
+I think she was a little vexed that Derrick did not show more animation
+in his replies about Lawrence's adventures during the war; the less he
+responded the more enthusiastic she became, and I am perfectly sure that
+in her heart she was thinking:
+
+"He is jealous of his brother's fame--I am disappointed in him. He has
+grown dull, and absent, and stupid, and he is dreadfully wanting in
+small-talk. I fear that his life down in the provinces is turning him
+into a bear."
+
+She brought the conversation back to his book; but there was a little
+touch of scorn in her voice, as if she thought to herself, "I suppose
+he is one of those people who can only talk on one subject--his own
+doings." Her manner was almost brusque.
+
+"Your novel has had a great success, has it not?" she asked.
+
+He instantly perceived her thought, and replied with a touch of dignity
+and a proud smile:
+
+"On the contrary, it has been a great failure; only three hundred and
+nine copies have been sold."
+
+"I wonder at that," said Freda, "for one so often heard it talked of."
+
+He promptly changed the topic, and began to speak of the march past. "I
+want to see Lord Starcross," he added. "I have no idea what a hero is
+like."
+
+Just then Lady Probyn came up, followed by an elderly harpy in
+spectacles and false, much-frizzed fringe.
+
+"Mrs. Carsteen wishes to be introduced to you, Mr. Vaughan; she is a
+great admirer of your writings."
+
+And poor Derrick, who was then quite unused to the species, had to
+stand and receive a flood of the most fulsome flattery, delivered in
+a strident voice, and to bear the critical and prolonged stare of the
+spectacled eyes. Nor would the harpy easily release her prey. She kept
+him much against his will, and I saw him looking wistfully now and then
+towards Freda.
+
+"It amuses me," I said to her, "that Derrick Vaughan should be so
+anxious to see Lord Starcross. It reminds me of Charles Lamb's anxiety
+to see Kosciusko, 'for,' said he, 'I have never seen a hero; I wonder
+how they look,' while all the time he himself was living a life of
+heroic self-sacrifice."
+
+"Mr. Vaughan, I should think, need only look at his own brother," said
+Freda, missing the drift of my speech.
+
+I longed to tell her what it was possible to tell of Derrick's life, but
+at that moment Sir Richard Merrifield introduced to his daughter a girl
+in a huge hat and great flopping sleeves, Miss Isaacson, whose picture
+at the Grosvenor had been so much talked of. Now the little artist knew
+no one in the room, and Freda saw fit to be extremely friendly to her.
+She was introduced to me, and I did my best to talk to her and set Freda
+at liberty as soon as the harpy had released Derrick; but my endeavours
+were frustrated, for Miss Isaacson, having looked me well over, decided
+that I was not at all intense, but a mere commonplace, slightly cynical
+worldling, and having exchanged a few lukewarm remarks with me, she
+returned to Freda, and stuck to her like a bur for the rest of the time.
+
+We stood out on the balcony to see the troops go by. It was a fine
+sight, and we all became highly enthusiastic. Freda enjoyed the mere
+pageant like a child, and was delighted with the horses. She looked now
+more like the Freda of the yacht, and I wished that Derrick could be
+near her; but, as ill-luck would have it, he was at some distance,
+hemmed in by an impassable barrier of eager spectators.
+
+Lawrence Vaughan rode past, looking wonderfully well in his uniform. He
+was riding a spirited bay, which took Freda's fancy amazingly, though
+she reserved her chief enthusiasm for Lord Starcross and his steed. It
+was not until all was over, and we had returned to the drawing-room,
+that Derrick managed to get the talk with Freda for which I knew he
+was longing, and then they were fated, apparently, to disagree. I was
+standing near and overheard the close of their talk.
+
+"I do believe you must be a member of the Peace Society!" said Freda
+impatiently. "Or perhaps you have turned Quaker. But I want to introduce
+you to my god-father, Mr. Fleming; you know it was his son whom your
+brother saved."
+
+And I heard Derrick being introduced as the brother of the hero of
+Saspataras Hill; and the next day he received a card for one of Mrs.
+Fleming's receptions, Lawrence having previously been invited to dine
+there on the same night.
+
+What happened at that party I never exactly understood. All I could
+gather was that Lawrence had been tremendously feted, that Freda had
+been present, and that poor old Derrick was as miserable as he could be
+when I next saw him. Putting two and two together, I guessed that he had
+been tantalised by a mere sight of her, possibly tortured by watching
+more favoured men enjoying long tete-a-tetes; but he would say little or
+nothing about it, and when, soon after, he and the Major left London, I
+feared that the fortnight had done my friend harm instead of good.
+
+
+
+Chapter VII.
+
+     "Then in that hour rejoice, since only thus
+      Can thy proud heart grow wholly piteous.
+      Thus only to the world thy speech can flow
+      Charged with the sad authority of woe.
+      Since no man nurtured in the shade can sing
+      To a true note one psalm of conquering;
+      Warriors must chant it whom our own eyes see
+      Red from the battle and more bruised than we,
+      Men who have borne the worst, have known the whole,
+      Have felt the last abeyance of the soul."
+                                     F. W. H. Myers.
+
+About the beginning of August, I rejoined him at Ben Rhydding. The place
+suited the Major admirably, and his various baths took up so great a
+part of each day, that Derrick had more time to himself than usual, and
+'At Strife' got on rapidly. He much enjoyed, too, the beautiful country
+round, while the hotel itself, with its huge gathering of all sorts and
+conditions of people, afforded him endless studies of character. The
+Major breakfasted in his own room, and, being so much engrossed with his
+baths, did not generally appear till twelve. Derrick and I breakfasted
+in the great dining-hall; and one morning, when the meal was over,
+we, as usual, strolled into the drawing-room to see if there were any
+letters awaiting us.
+
+"One for you," I remarked, handing him a thick envelope.
+
+"From Lawrence!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Well, don't read it in here; the Doctor will be coming to read prayers.
+Come out in the garden," I said.
+
+We went out into the beautiful grounds, and he tore open the envelope
+and began to read his letter as we walked. All at once I felt the
+arm which was linked in mine give a quick, involuntary movement, and,
+looking up, saw that Derrick had turned deadly pale.
+
+"What's up?" I said. But he read on without replying; and, when I paused
+and sat down on a sheltered rustic seat, he unconsciously followed my
+example, looking more like a sleep-walker than a man in the possession
+of all his faculties. At last he finished the letter, and looked up in a
+dazed, miserable way, letting his eyes wander over the fir-trees and the
+fragrant shrubs and the flowers by the path.
+
+"Dear old fellow, what is the matter?" I asked.
+
+The words seemed to rouse him.
+
+A dreadful look passed over his face--the look of one stricken to
+the heart. But his voice was perfectly calm, and full of a ghastly
+self-control.
+
+"Freda will be my sister-in-law," he said, rather as if stating the fact
+to himself than answering my question.
+
+"Impossible!" I said. "What do you mean? How could--"
+
+As if to silence me he thrust the letter into my hand. It ran as
+follows:
+
+"Dear Derrick,--For the last few days I have been down in the Flemings'
+place in Derbyshire, and fortune has favoured me, for the Merrifields
+are here too. Now prepare yourself for a surprise. Break the news to the
+governor, and send me your heartiest congratulations by return of post.
+I am engaged to Freda Merrifield, and am the happiest fellow in the
+world. They are awfully fastidious sort of people, and I do not believe
+Sir Richard would have consented to such a match had it not been for
+that lucky impulse which made me rescue Dick Fleming. It has all been
+arranged very quickly, as these things should be, but we have seen a
+good deal of each other--first at Aldershot the year before last, and
+just lately in town, and now these four days down here--and days in a
+country house are equal to weeks elsewhere. I enclose a letter to my
+father--give it to him at a suitable moment--but, after all, he's sure
+to approve of a daughter-in-law with such a dowry as Miss Merrifield is
+likely to have.
+
+"Yours affly.,
+
+"Lawrence Vaughan."
+
+
+I gave him back the letter without a word. In dead silence we moved on,
+took a turning which led to a little narrow gate, and passed out of the
+grounds to the wild moorland country beyond.
+
+After all, Freda was in no way to blame. As a mere girl she had allowed
+Derrick to see that she cared for him; then circumstances had entirely
+separated them; she saw more of the world, met Lawrence, was perhaps
+first attracted to him by his very likeness to Derrick, and finally fell
+in love with the hero of the season, whom every one delighted to honour.
+Nor could one blame Lawrence, who had no notion that he had supplanted
+his brother. All the blame lay with the Major's slavery to drink, for
+if only he had remained out in India I feel sure that matters would have
+gone quite differently.
+
+We tramped on over heather and ling and springy turf till we reached the
+old ruin known as the Hunting Tower; then Derrick seemed to awake to the
+recollection of present things. He looked at his watch.
+
+"I must go back to my father," he said, for the first time breaking the
+silence.
+
+"You shall do no such thing!" I cried. "Stay out here and I will see to
+the Major, and give him the letter too if you like."
+
+He caught at the suggestion, and as he thanked me I think there were
+tears in his eyes. So I took the letter and set off for Ben Rhydding,
+leaving him to get what relief he could from solitude, space, and
+absolute quiet. Once I just glanced back, and somehow the scene has
+always lingered in my memory--the great stretch of desolate moor, the
+dull crimson of the heather, the lowering grey clouds, the Hunting Tower
+a patch of deeper gloom against the gloomy sky, and Derrick's figure
+prostrate, on the turf, the face hidden, the hands grasping at the
+sprigs of heather growing near.
+
+The Major was just ready to be helped into the garden when I reached
+the hotel. We sat down in the very same place where Derrick had read
+the news, and, when I judged it politic, I suddenly remembered with
+apologies the letter that had been entrusted to me. The old man received
+it with satisfaction, for he was fond of Lawrence and proud of him, and
+the news of the engagement pleased him greatly. He was still discussing
+it when, two hours later, Derrick returned.
+
+"Here's good news!" said the Major, glancing up as his son approached.
+"Trust Lawrence to fall on his feet! He tells me the girl will have a
+thousand a year. You know her, don't you? What's she like?"
+
+"I have met her," replied Derrick, with forced composure. "She is very
+charming."
+
+"Lawrence has all his wits about him," growled the Major. "Whereas
+you--" (several oaths interjected). "It will be a long while before any
+girl with a dowry will look at you! What women like is a bold man of
+action; what they despise, mere dabblers in pen and ink, writers
+of poisonous sensational tales such as yours! I'm quoting your own
+reviewers, so you needn't contradict me!"
+
+Of course no one had dreamt of contradicting; it would have been the
+worst possible policy.
+
+"Shall I help you in?" said Derrick. "It is just dinner time."
+
+And as I walked beside them to the hotel, listening to the Major's
+flood of irritating words, and glancing now and then at Derrick's
+grave, resolute face, which successfully masked such bitter suffering, I
+couldn't help reflecting that here was courage infinitely more deserving
+of the Victoria Cross than Lawrence's impulsive rescue. Very patiently
+he sat through the long dinner. I doubt if any but an acute observer
+could have told that he was in trouble; and, luckily, the world in
+general observes hardly at all. He endured the Major till it was time
+for him to take a Turkish bath, and then having two hours' freedom,
+climbed with me up the rock-covered hill at the back of the hotel. He
+was very silent. But I remember that, as we watched the sun go down--a
+glowing crimson ball, half veiled in grey mist--he said abruptly, "If
+Lawrence makes her happy I can bear it. And of course I always knew that
+I was not worthy of her."
+
+Derrick's room was a large, gaunt, ghostly place in one of the towers
+of the hotel, and in one corner of it was a winding stair leading to the
+roof. When I went in next morning I found him writing away at his novel
+just as usual, but when I looked at him it seemed to me that the night
+had aged him fearfully. As a rule, he took interruptions as a matter
+of course, and with perfect sweetness of temper; but to-day he seemed
+unable to drag himself back to the outer world. He was writing at a
+desperate pace too, and frowned when I spoke to him. I took up the sheet
+of foolscap which he had just finished and glanced at the number of the
+page--evidently he had written an immense quantity since the previous
+day.
+
+"You will knock yourself up if you go on at this rate!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Nonsense!" he said sharply. "You know it never tires me."
+
+Yet, all the same, he passed his hand very wearily over his forehead,
+and stretched himself with the air of one who had been in a cramping
+position for many hours.
+
+"You have broken your vow!" I cried. "You have been writing at night."
+
+"No," he said; "it was morning when I began--three o'clock. And it pays
+better to get up and write than to lie awake thinking."
+
+Judging by the speed with which the novel grew in the next few weeks, I
+could tell that Derrick's nights were of the worst.
+
+He began, too, to look very thin and haggard, and I more than once
+noticed that curious 'sleep-walking' expression in his eyes; he seemed
+to me just like a man who has received his death-blow, yet still
+lingers--half alive, half dead. I had an odd feeling that it was his
+novel which kept him going, and I began to wonder what would happen when
+it was finished.
+
+A month later, when I met him again at Bath, he had written the last
+chapter of 'At Strife,' and we read it over the sitting-room fire on
+Saturday evening. I was very much struck with the book; it seemed to
+me a great advance on 'Lynwood's Heritage,' and the part which he had
+written since that day at Ben Rhydding was full of an indescribable
+power, as if the life of which he had been robbed had flowed into his
+work. When he had done, he tied up the MS. in his usual prosaic fashion,
+just as if it had been a bundle of clothes, and put it on a side table.
+
+It was arranged that I should take it to Davison--the publisher of
+'Lynwood's Heritage'--on Monday, and see what offer he would make for
+it. Just at that time I felt so sorry for Derrick that if he had asked
+me to hawk round fifty novels I would have done it.
+
+Sunday morning proved wet and dismal; as a rule the Major, who was fond
+of music, attended service at the Abbey, but the weather forced him now
+to stay at home. I myself was at that time no church-goer, but Derrick
+would, I verily believe, as soon have fasted a week as have given up
+a Sunday morning service; and having no mind to be left to the Major's
+company, and a sort of wish to be near my friend, I went with him. I
+believe it is not correct to admire Bath Abbey, but for all that 'the
+lantern of the west' has always seemed to me a grand place; as for
+Derrick, he had a horror of a 'dim religious light,' and always stuck
+up for his huge windows, and I believe he loved the Abbey with all his
+heart. Indeed, taking it only from a sensuous point of view, I could
+quite imagine what a relief he found his weekly attendance here; by
+contrast with his home the place was Heaven itself.
+
+As we walked back, I asked a question that had long been in my mind:
+"Have you seen anything of Lawrence?"
+
+"He saw us across London on our way from Ben Rhydding," said Derrick,
+steadily. "Freda came with him, and my father was delighted with her."
+
+I wondered how they had got through the meeting, but of course my
+curiosity had to go unsatisfied. Of one thing I might be certain,
+namely, that Derrick had gone through with it like a Trojan, that he
+had smiled and congratulated in his quiet way, and had done the best to
+efface himself and think only of Freda. But as everyone knows:
+
+     "Face joy's a costly mask to wear,
+      'Tis bought with pangs long nourished
+      And rounded to despair;"
+
+and he looked now even more worn and old than he had done at Ben
+Rhydding in the first days of his trouble.
+
+However, he turned resolutely away from the subject I had introduced and
+began to discuss titles for his novel.
+
+"It's impossible to find anything new," he said, "absolutely impossible.
+I declare I shall take to numbers."
+
+I laughed at this prosaic notion, and we were still discussing the title
+when we reached home.
+
+"Don't say anything about it at lunch," he said as we entered. "My
+father detests my writing."
+
+I nodded assent and opened the sitting-room door--a strong smell of
+brandy instantly became apparent; the Major sat in the green velvet
+chair, which had been wheeled close to the hearth. He was drunk.
+
+Derrick gave an ejaculation of utter hopelessness.
+
+"This will undo all the good of Ben Rhydding!" he said. "How on earth
+has he managed to get it?"
+
+The Major, however, was not so far gone as he looked; he caught up the
+remark and turned towards us with a hideous laugh.
+
+"Ah, yes," he said, "that's the question. But the old man has still some
+brains, you see. I'll be even with you yet, Derrick. You needn't think
+you're to have it all your own way. It's my turn now. You've deprived me
+all this time of the only thing I care for in life, and now I turn the
+tables on you. Tit for tat. Oh! yes, I've turned your d----d scribblings
+to a useful purpose, so you needn't complain!"
+
+All this had been shouted out at the top of his voice and freely
+interlarded with expressions which I will not repeat; at the end he
+broke again into a laugh, and with a look, half idiotic, half devilish,
+pointed towards the grate.
+
+"Good Heavens!" I said, "what have you done?"
+
+By the side of the chair I saw a piece of brown paper, and, catching
+it up, read the address--"Messrs. Davison, Paternoster Row"; in the
+fireplace was a huge charred mass. Derrick caught his breath; he stooped
+down and snatched from the fender a fragment of paper slightly burned,
+but still not charred beyond recognition like the rest. The writing was
+quite legible--it was his own writing--the description of the Royalists'
+attack and Paul Wharncliffe's defence of the bridge. I looked from the
+half-burnt scrap of paper to the side table where, only the previous
+night, we had placed the novel, and then, realising as far as any but an
+author could realise the frightful thing that had happened, I looked in
+Derrick's face. Its white fury appalled me. What he had borne hitherto
+from the Major, God only knows, but this was the last drop in the cup.
+Daily insults, ceaseless provocation, even the humiliations of personal
+violence he had borne with superhuman patience; but this last injury,
+this wantonly cruel outrage, this deliberate destruction of an amount of
+thought, and labour, and suffering which only the writer himself could
+fully estimate--this was intolerable.
+
+What might have happened had the Major been sober and in the possession
+of ordinary physical strength I hardly care to think. As it was, his
+weakness protected him. Derrick's wrath was speechless; with one look
+of loathing and contempt at the drunken man, he strode out of the room,
+caught up his hat, and hurried from the house.
+
+The Major sat chuckling to himself for a minute or two, but soon he grew
+drowsy, and before long was snoring like a grampus. The old landlady
+brought in lunch, saw the state of things pretty quickly, shook her head
+and commiserated Derrick. Then, when she had left the room, seeing no
+prospect that either of my companions would be in a fit state for lunch,
+I made a solitary meal, and had just finished when a cab stopped at the
+door and out sprang Derrick. I went into the passage to meet him.
+
+"The Major is asleep," I remarked.
+
+He took no more notice than if I had spoken of the cat.
+
+"I'm going to London," he said, making for the stairs. "Can you get your
+bag ready? There's a train at 2.5."
+
+Somehow the suddenness and the self-control with which he made this
+announcement carried me back to the hotel at Southampton, where, after
+listening to the account of the ship's doctor, he had announced his
+intention of living with his father. For more than two years he had
+borne this awful life; he had lost pretty nearly all that there was
+to be lost and he had gained the Major's vindictive hatred. Now, half
+maddened by pain, and having, as he thought, so hopelessly failed, he
+saw nothing for it but to go--and that at once.
+
+I packed my bag, and then went to help him. He was cramming all his
+possessions into portmanteaux and boxes; the Hoffman was already packed,
+and the wall looked curiously bare without it. Clearly this was no visit
+to London--he was leaving Bath for good, and who could wonder at it?
+
+"I have arranged for the attendant from the hospital to come in at night
+as well as in the morning," he said, as he locked a portmanteau that was
+stuffed almost to bursting. "What's the time? We must make haste or we
+shall lose the train. Do, like a good fellow, cram that heap of things
+into the carpet-bag while I speak to the landlady."
+
+At last we were off, rattling through the quiet streets of Bath, and
+reaching the station barely in time to rush up the long flight of stairs
+and spring into an empty carriage. Never shall I forget that journey.
+The train stopped at every single station, and sometimes in between; we
+were five mortal hours on the road, and more than once I thought Derrick
+would have fainted. However, he was not of the fainting order, he only
+grew more and more ghastly in colour and rigid in expression.
+
+I felt very anxious about him, for the shock and the sudden anger
+following on the trouble about Freda seemed to me enough to unhinge even
+a less sensitive nature. 'At Strife' was the novel which had, I firmly
+believe, kept him alive through that awful time at Ben Rhydding, and
+I began to fear that the Major's fit of drunken malice might prove the
+destruction of the author as well as of the book. Everything had, as it
+were, come at once on poor Derrick; yet I don't know that he fared worse
+than other people in this respect.
+
+Life, unfortunately, is for most of us no well-arranged story with a
+happy termination; it is a chequered affair of shade and sun, and for
+one beam of light there come very often wide patches of shadow. Men
+seem to have known this so far back as Shakespeare's time, and to have
+observed that one woe trod on another's heels, to have battled not with
+a single wave, but with a 'sea of troubles,' and to have remarked that
+'sorrows come not singly, but in battalions.'
+
+However, owing I believe chiefly to his own self-command, and to his
+untiring faculty for taking infinite pains over his work, Derrick did
+not break down, but pleasantly cheated my expectations. I was not called
+on to nurse him through a fever, and consumption did not mark him
+for her own. In fact, in the matter of illness, he was always a most
+prosaic, unromantic fellow, and never indulged in any of the euphonious
+and interesting ailments. In all his life, I believe, he never went
+in for anything but the mumps--of all complaints the least
+interesting--and, may be, an occasional headache.
+
+However, all this is a digression. We at length reached London,
+and Derrick took a room above mine, now and then disturbing me with
+nocturnal pacings over the creaking boards, but, on the whole, proving
+himself the best of companions.
+
+If I wrote till Doomsday, I could never make you understand how the
+burning of his novel affected him--to this day it is a subject I
+instinctively avoid with him--though the re-written 'At Strife' has been
+such a grand success. For he did re-write the story, and that at once.
+He said little; but the very next morning, in one of the windows of
+our quiet sitting-room, often enough looking despairingly at the grey
+monotony of Montague Street, he began at 'Page I, Chapter I,' and so
+worked patiently on for many months to re-make as far as he could
+what his drunken father had maliciously destroyed. Beyond the unburnt
+paragraph about the attack on Mondisfield, he had nothing except a
+few hastily scribbled ideas in his note-book, and of course the very
+elaborate and careful historical notes which he had made on the Civil
+War during many years of reading and research--for this period had
+always been a favourite study with him.
+
+But, as any author will understand, the effort of re-writing was
+immense, and this, combined with all the other troubles, tried Derrick
+to the utmost. However, he toiled on, and I have always thought that his
+resolute, unyielding conduct with regard to that book proved what a man
+he was.
+
+
+
+Chapter VIII.
+
+     "How oft Fate's sharpest blow shall leave thee strong,
+      With some re-risen ecstacy of song."
+                                         F. W. H. Myers.
+
+As the autumn wore on, we heard now and then from old Mackrill the
+doctor. His reports of the Major were pretty uniform. Derrick used to
+hand them over to me when he had read them; but, by tacit consent, the
+Major's name was never mentioned.
+
+Meantime, besides re-writing 'At Strife,' he was accumulating material
+for his next book and working to very good purpose. Not a minute of his
+day was idle; he read much, saw various phases of life hitherto unknown
+to him, studied, observed, gained experience, and contrived, I believe,
+to think very little and very guardedly of Freda.
+
+But, on Christmas Eve, I noticed a change in him--and that very night
+he spoke to me. For such an impressionable fellow, he had really
+extraordinary tenacity, and, spite of the course of Herbert Spencer that
+I had put him through, he retained his unshaken faith in many things
+which to me were at that time the merest legends. I remember very well
+the arguments we used to have on the vexed question of 'Free-will,'
+and being myself more or less of a fatalist, it annoyed me that I never
+could in the very slightest degree shake his convictions on that point.
+Moreover, when I plagued him too much with Herbert Spencer, he had a way
+of retaliating, and would foist upon me his favourite authors. He was
+never a worshipper of any one writer, but always had at least a dozen
+prophets in whose praise he was enthusiastic.
+
+Well, on this Christmas Eve, we had been to see dear old Ravenscroft and
+his grand-daughter, and we were walking back through the quiet precincts
+of the Temple, when he said abruptly:
+
+"I have decided to go back to Bath to-morrow."
+
+"Have you had a worse account?" I asked, much startled at this sudden
+announcement.
+
+"No," he replied, "but the one I had a week ago was far from good if you
+remember, and I have a feeling that I ought to be there."
+
+At that moment we emerged into the confusion of Fleet Street; but when
+we had crossed the road I began to remonstrate with him, and argued the
+folly of the idea all the way down Chancery Lane.
+
+However, there was no shaking his purpose; Christmas and its
+associations had made his life in town no longer possible for him.
+
+"I must at any rate try it again and see how it works," he said.
+
+And all I could do was to persuade him to leave the bulk of his
+possessions in London, "in case," as he remarked, "the Major would not
+have him."
+
+So the next day I was left to myself again with nothing to remind me
+of Derrick's stay but his pictures which still hung on the wall of our
+sitting-room. I made him promise to write a full, true, and particular
+account of his return, a bona-fide old-fashioned letter, not the
+half-dozen lines of these degenerate days; and about a week later I
+received the following budget:
+
+"Dear Sydney,--I got down to Bath all right, and, thanks to your 'Study
+of Sociology,' endured a slow, and cold, and dull, and depressing
+journey with the thermometer down to zero, and spirits to correspond,
+with the country a monotonous white, and the sky a monotonous grey,
+and a companion who smoked the vilest tobacco you can conceive. The old
+place looks as beautiful as ever, and to my great satisfaction the hills
+round about are green. Snow, save in pictures, is an abomination.
+Milsom Street looked asleep, and Gay Street decidedly dreary, but the
+inhabitants were roused by my knock, and the old landlady nearly shook
+my hand off. My father has an attack of jaundice and is in a miserable
+state. He was asleep when I got here, and the good old landlady,
+thinking the front sitting-room would be free, had invited 'company,'
+i.e., two or three married daughters and their belongings; one of the
+children beats Magnay's 'Carina' as to beauty--he ought to paint her.
+Happy thought, send him and pretty Mrs. Esperance down here on spec. He
+can paint the child for the next Academy, and meantime I could enjoy his
+company. Well, all these good folks being just set-to at roast beef, I
+naturally wouldn't hear of disturbing them, and in the end was obliged
+to sit down too and eat at that hour of the day the hugest dinner
+you ever saw--anything but voracious appetites offended the hostess.
+Magnay's future model, for all its angelic face, 'ate to repletion,'
+like the fair American in the story. Then I went into my father's
+room, and shortly after he woke up and asked me to give him some
+Friedrichshall water, making no comment at all on my return, but just
+behaving as though I had been here all the autumn, so that I felt as if
+the whole affair were a dream. Except for this attack of jaundice, he
+has been much as usual, and when you next come down you will find
+us settled into our old groove. The quiet of it after London is
+extraordinary. But I believe it suits the book, which gets on pretty
+fast. This afternoon I went up Lansdowne and right on past the
+Grand Stand to Prospect Stile, which is at the edge of a high bit
+of tableland, and looks over a splendid stretch of country, with the
+Bristol Channel and the Welsh hills in the distance. While I was there
+the sun most considerately set in gorgeous array. You never saw anything
+like it. It was worth the journey from London to Bath, I can assure
+you. Tell Magnay, and may it lure him down; also name the model
+aforementioned.
+
+"How is the old Q.C. and his pretty grandchild? That quaint old room of
+theirs in the Temple somehow took my fancy, and the child was divine. Do
+you remember my showing you, in a gloomy narrow street here, a jolly old
+watchmaker who sits in his shop-window and is for ever bending over sick
+clocks and watches? Well, he's still sitting there, as if he had never
+moved since we saw him that Saturday months ago. I mean to study him for
+a portrait; his sallow, clean-shaved, wrinkled face has a whole story
+in it. I believe he is married to a Xantippe who throws cold water over
+him, both literally and metaphorically; but he is a philosopher--I'll
+stake my reputation as an observer on that--he just shrugs his sturdy
+old shoulders, and goes on mending clocks and watches. On dark days he
+works by a gas jet--and then Rembrandt would enjoy painting him. I
+look at him whenever my world is particularly awry, and find him highly
+beneficial. Davison has forwarded me to-day two letters from readers of
+'Lynwood.' The first is from an irate female who takes me to task for
+the dangerous tendency of the story, and insists that I have drawn
+impossible circumstances and impossible characters. The second is from
+an old clergyman, who writes a pathetic letter of thanks, and tells me
+that it is almost word for word the story of a son of his who died five
+years ago. Query: shall I send the irate female the old man's letter,
+and save myself the trouble of writing? But on the whole I think not;
+it would be pearls before swine. I will write to her myself. Glad to see
+you whenever you can run down.
+
+"Yours ever,
+
+"D. V."
+
+("Never struck me before what pious initials mine are.")
+
+
+The very evening I received this letter I happened to be dining at the
+Probyn's. As luck would have it, pretty Miss Freda was staying in the
+house, and she fell to my share. I always liked her, though of late I
+had felt rather angry with her for being carried away by the general
+storm of admiration and swept by it into an engagement with Lawrence
+Vaughan. She was a very pleasant, natural sort of talker, and she always
+treated me as an old friend. But she seemed to me, that night, a little
+less satisfied than usual with life. Perhaps it was merely the effect
+of the black lace dress which she wore, but I fancied her paler and
+thinner, and somehow she seemed all eyes.
+
+"Where is Lawrence now?" I asked, as we went down to the dining-room.
+
+"He is stationed at Dover," she replied. "He was up here for a few hours
+yesterday; he came to say good-bye to me, for I am going to Bath next
+Monday with my father, who has been very rheumatic lately--and you know
+Bath is coming into fashion again, all the doctors recommend it."
+
+"Major Vaughan is there," I said, "and has found the waters very good, I
+believe; any day, at twelve o'clock, you may see him getting out of his
+chair and going into the Pump Room on Derrick's arm. I often wonder
+what outsiders think of them. It isn't often, is it, that one sees a son
+absolutely giving up his life to his invalid father?"
+
+She looked a little startled.
+
+"I wish Lawrence could be more with Major Vaughan," she said; "for he
+is his father's favourite. You see he is such a good talker, and
+Derrick--well, he is absorbed in his books; and then he has such
+extravagant notions about war, he must be a very uncongenial companion
+to the poor Major."
+
+I devoured turbot in wrathful silence. Freda glanced at me.
+
+"It is true, isn't it, that he has quite given up his life to writing,
+and cares for nothing else?"
+
+"Well, he has deliberately sacrificed his best chance of success by
+leaving London and burying himself in the provinces," I replied drily;
+"and as to caring for nothing but writing, why he never gets more than
+two or three hours a day for it." And then I gave her a minute account
+of his daily routine.
+
+She began to look troubled.
+
+"I have been misled," she said; "I had gained quite a wrong impression
+of him."
+
+"Very few people know anything at all about him," I said warmly; "you
+are not alone in that."
+
+"I suppose his next novel is finished now?" said Freda; "he told me he
+had only one or two more chapters to write when I saw him a few months
+ago on his way from Ben Rhydding. What is he writing now?"
+
+"He is writing that novel over again," I replied.
+
+"Over again? What fearful waste of time!"
+
+"Yes, it has cost him hundreds of hours' work; it just shows what a man
+he is, that he has gone through with it so bravely."
+
+"But how do you mean? Didn't it do?"
+
+Rashly, perhaps, yet I think unavoidably, I told her the truth.
+
+"It was the best thing he had ever written, but unfortunately it was
+destroyed, burnt to a cinder. That was not very pleasant, was it, for a
+man who never makes two copies of his work?"
+
+"It was frightful!" said Freda, her eyes dilating. "I never heard a word
+about it. Does Lawrence know?"
+
+"No, he does not; and perhaps I ought not to have told you, but I was
+annoyed at your so misunderstanding Derrick. Pray never mention the
+affair; he would wish it kept perfectly quiet."
+
+"Why?" asked Freda, turning her clear eyes full upon mine.
+
+"Because," I said, lowering my voice, "because his father burnt it."
+
+She almost gasped.
+
+"Deliberately?"
+
+"Yes, deliberately," I replied. "His illness has affected his temper,
+and he is sometimes hardly responsible for his actions."
+
+"Oh, I knew that he was irritable and hasty, and that Derrick annoyed
+him. Lawrence told me that, long ago," said Freda. "But that he should
+have done such a thing as that! It is horrible! Poor Derrick, how sorry
+I am for him. I hope we shall see something of them at Bath. Do you know
+how the Major is?"
+
+"I had a letter about him from Derrick only this evening," I replied;
+"if you care to see it, I will show it you later on."
+
+And by-and-by, in the drawing-room, I put Derrick's letter into her
+hands, and explained to her how for a few months he had given up his
+life at Bath, in despair, but now had returned.
+
+"I don't think Lawrence can understand the state of things," she said
+wistfully. "And yet he has been down there."
+
+I made no reply, and Freda, with a sigh, turned away.
+
+A month later I went down to Bath and found, as my friend foretold,
+everything going on in the old groove, except that Derrick himself had
+an odd, strained look about him, as if he were fighting a foe beyond
+his strength. Freda's arrival at Bath had been very hard on him, it
+was almost more than he could endure. Sir Richard, blind as a bat, of
+course, to anything below the surface, made a point of seeing something
+of Lawrence's brother. And on the day of my arrival Derrick and I had
+hardly set out for a walk, when we ran across the old man.
+
+Sir Richard, though rheumatic in the wrists, was nimble of foot and an
+inveterate walker. He was going with his daughter to see over Beckford's
+Tower, and invited us to accompany him. Derrick, much against the grain,
+I fancy, had to talk to Freda, who, in her winter furs and close-fitting
+velvet hat, looked more fascinating than ever, while the old man
+descanted to me on Bath waters, antiquities, etc., in a long-winded
+way that lasted all up the hill. We made our way into the cemetery and
+mounted the tower stairs, thinking of the past when this dreary place
+had been so gorgeously furnished. Here Derrick contrived to get ahead
+with Sir Richard, and Freda lingered in a sort of alcove with me.
+
+"I have been so wanting to see you," she said, in an agitated voice.
+"Oh, Mr. Wharncliffe, is it true what I have heard about the Major? Does
+he drink?"
+
+"Who told you?" I said, a little embarrassed.
+
+"It was our landlady," said Freda; "she is the daughter of the Major's
+landlady. And you should hear what she says of Derrick! Why, he must
+be a downright hero! All the time I have been half despising him"--she
+choked back a sob--"he has been trying to save his father from what was
+certain death to him--so they told me. Do you think it is true?"
+
+"I know it is," I replied gravely.
+
+"And about his arm--was that true?"
+
+I signed an assent.
+
+Her grey eyes grew moist.
+
+"Oh," she cried, "how I have been deceived and how little Lawrence
+appreciates him! I think he must know that I've misjudged him, for he
+seems so odd and shy, and I don't think he likes to talk to me."
+
+I looked searchingly into her truthful grey eyes, thinking of poor
+Derrick's unlucky love-story.
+
+"You do not understand him," I said; "and perhaps it is best so."
+
+But the words and the look were rash, for all at once the colour flooded
+her face. She turned quickly away, conscious at last that the midsummer
+dream of those yachting days had to Derrick been no dream at all, but a
+life-long reality.
+
+I felt very sorry for Freda, for she was not at all the sort of girl who
+would glory in having a fellow hopelessly in love with her. I knew that
+the discovery she had made would be nothing but a sorrow to her, and
+could guess how she would reproach herself for that innocent past fancy,
+which, till now, had seemed to her so faint and far-away--almost as
+something belonging to another life. All at once we heard the others
+descending, and she turned to me with such a frightened, appealing look,
+that I could not possibly have helped going to the rescue. I plunged
+abruptly into a discourse on Beckford, and told her how he used to keep
+diamonds in a tea-cup, and amused himself by arranging them on a piece
+of velvet. Sir Richard fled from the sound of my prosy voice, and,
+needless to say, Derrick followed him. We let them get well in advance
+and then followed, Freda silent and distraite, but every now and then
+asking a question about the Major.
+
+As for Derrick, evidently he was on guard. He saw a good deal of the
+Merrifields and was sedulously attentive to them in many small ways;
+but with Freda he was curiously reserved, and if by chance they did
+talk together, he took good care to bring Lawrence's name into the
+conversation. On the whole, I believe loyalty was his strongest
+characteristic, and want of loyalty in others tried him more severely
+than anything in the world.
+
+As the spring wore on, it became evident to everyone that the Major
+could not last long. His son's watchfulness and the enforced temperance
+which the doctors insisted on had prolonged his life to a certain
+extent, but gradually his sufferings increased and his strength
+diminished. At last he kept his bed altogether.
+
+What Derrick bore at this time no one can ever know. When, one bright
+sunshiny Saturday, I went down to see how he was getting on, I found him
+worn and haggard, too evidently paying the penalty of sleepless nights
+and thankless care. I was a little shocked to hear that Lawrence had
+been summoned, but when I was taken into the sick room I realised that
+they had done wisely to send for the favourite son.
+
+The Major was evidently dying.
+
+Never can I forget the cruelty and malevolence with which his bloodshot
+eyes rested on Derrick, or the patience with which the dear old fellow
+bore his father's scathing sarcasms. It was while I was sitting by
+the bed that the landlady entered with a telegram, which she put into
+Derrick's hand.
+
+"From Lawrence!" said the dying man triumphantly, "to say by what train
+we may expect him. Well?" as Derrick still read the message to himself,
+"can't you speak, you d--d idiot? Have you lost your d--d tongue? What
+does he say?"
+
+"I am afraid he cannot be here just yet," said Derrick, trying to tone
+down the curt message; "it seems he cannot get leave."
+
+"Not get leave to see his dying father? What confounded nonsense. Give
+me the thing here;" and he snatched the telegram from Derrick and read
+it in a quavering, hoarse voice:
+
+"Impossible to get away. Am hopelessly tied here. Love to my father.
+Greatly regret to hear such bad news of him."
+
+I think that message made the old man realise the worth of Lawrence's
+often expressed affection for him. Clearly it was a great blow to him.
+He threw down the paper without a word and closed his eyes. For half an
+hour he lay like that, and we did not disturb him. At last he looked up;
+his voice was fainter and his manner more gentle.
+
+"Derrick," he said, "I believe I've done you an injustice; it is you
+who cared for me, not Lawrence, and I've struck your name out of my
+will--have left all to him. After all, though you are one of those
+confounded novelists, you've done what you could for me. Let some one
+fetch a solicitor--I'll alter it--I'll alter it!"
+
+I instantly hurried out to fetch a lawyer, but it was Saturday
+afternoon, the offices were closed, and some time passed before I had
+caught my man. I told him as we hastened back some of the facts of the
+case, and he brought his writing materials into the sick room and took
+down from the Major's own lips the words which would have the effect of
+dividing the old man's possessions between his two sons. Dr. Mackrill
+was now present; he stood on one side of the bed, his fingers on the
+dying man's pulse. On the other side stood Derrick, a degree paler and
+graver than usual, but revealing little of his real feelings.
+
+"Word it as briefly as you can," said the doctor.
+
+And the lawyer scribbled away as though for his life, while the rest
+of us waited in a wretched hushed state of tension. In the room itself
+there was no sound save the scratching of the pen and the laboured
+breathing of the old man; but in the next house we could hear someone
+playing a waltz. Somehow it did not seem to me incongruous, for it was
+'Sweethearts,' and that had been the favourite waltz of Ben Rhydding,
+so that I always connected it with Derrick and his trouble, and now the
+words rang in my ears:
+
+     "Oh, love for a year, a week, a day,
+      But alas! for the love that loves alway."
+
+If it had not been for the Major's return from India, I firmly believed
+that Derrick and Freda would by this time have been betrothed. Derrick
+had taken a line which necessarily divided them, had done what he saw to
+be his duty; yet what were the results? He had lost Freda, he had lost
+his book, he had damaged his chance of success as a writer, he had been
+struck out of his father's will, and he had suffered unspeakably. Had
+anything whatever been gained? The Major was dying unrepentant to all
+appearance, as hard and cynical an old worldling as I ever saw. The only
+spark of grace he showed was that tardy endeavour to make a fresh will.
+What good had it all been? What good?
+
+I could not answer the question then, could only cry out in a sort of
+indignation, "What profit is there in his blood?" But looking at it
+now, I have a sort of perception that the very lack of apparent
+profitableness was part of Derrick's training, while if, as I now
+incline to think, there is a hereafter where the training begun here is
+continued, the old Major in the hell he most richly deserved would have
+the remembrance of his son's patience and constancy and devotion to
+serve as a guiding light in the outer darkness.
+
+The lawyer no longer wrote at railroad speed; he pushed back his chair,
+brought the will to the bed, and placed the pen in the trembling yellow
+hand of the invalid.
+
+"You must sign your name here," he said, pointing with his finger; and
+the Major raised himself a little, and brought the pen quaveringly
+down towards the paper. With a sort of fascination I watched the
+finely-pointed steel nib; it trembled for an instant or two, then the
+pen dropped from the convulsed fingers, and with a cry of intolerable
+anguish the Major fell back.
+
+For some minutes there was a painful struggle; presently we caught a
+word or two between the groans of the dying man.
+
+"Too late!" he gasped, "too late!" And then a dreadful vision of horrors
+seemed to rise before him, and with a terror that I can never forget
+he turned to his son and clutched fast hold of his hands: "Derrick!" he
+shrieked.
+
+Derrick could not speak, but he bent low over the bed as though to
+screen the dying eyes from those horrible visions, and with an odd sort
+of thrill I saw him embrace his father.
+
+When he raised his head the terror had died out of the Major's face; all
+was over.
+
+
+
+Chapter IX.
+
+     "To duty firm, to conscience true,
+        However tried and pressed,
+      In God's clear sight high work we do,
+        If we but do out best."
+
+Lawrence came down to the funeral, and I took good care that he should
+hear all about his father's last hours, and I made the solicitor show
+him the unsigned will. He made hardly any comment on it till we three
+were alone together. Then with a sort of kindly patronage he turned to
+his brother--Derrick, it must be remembered, was the elder twin--and
+said pityingly, "Poor old fellow! it was rather rough on you that the
+governor couldn't sign this; but never mind, you'll soon, no doubt, be
+earning a fortune by your books; and besides, what does a bachelor want
+with more than you've already inherited from our mother? Whereas, an
+officer just going to be married, and with this confounded reputation of
+hero to keep up, why, I can tell you it needs every penny of it!"
+
+Derrick looked at his brother searchingly. I honestly believe that he
+didn't very much care about the money, but it cut him to the heart that
+Lawrence should treat him so shabbily. The soul of generosity himself,
+he could not understand how anyone could frame a speech so infernally
+mean.
+
+"Of course," I broke in, "if Derrick liked to go to law he could no
+doubt get his rights, there are three witnesses who can prove what was
+the Major's real wish."
+
+"I shall not go to law," said Derrick, with a dignity of which I had
+hardly imagined him capable. "You spoke of your marriage, Lawrence; is
+it to be soon?"
+
+"This autumn, I hope," said Lawrence; "at least, if I can overcome Sir
+Richard's ridiculous notion that a girl ought not to marry till she's
+twenty-one. He's a most crotchety old fellow, that future father-in-law
+of mine."
+
+When Lawrence had first come back from the war I had thought him
+wonderfully improved, but a long course of spoiling and flattery had
+done him a world of harm. He liked very much to be lionised, and to see
+him now posing in drawing-rooms, surrounded by a worshipping throng of
+women, was enough to sicken any sensible being.
+
+As for Derrick, though he could not be expected to feel his bereavement
+in the ordinary way, yet his father's death had been a great shock to
+him. It was arranged that after settling various matters in Bath
+he should go down to stay with his sister for a time, joining me in
+Montague Street later on. While he was away in Birmingham, however, an
+extraordinary change came into my humdrum life, and when he rejoined me
+a few weeks later, I--selfish brute--was so overwhelmed with the trouble
+that had befallen me that I thought very little indeed of his affairs.
+He took this quite as a matter of course, and what I should have done
+without him I can't conceive. However, this story concerns him and has
+nothing to do with my extraordinary dilemma; I merely mention it as a
+fact which brought additional cares into his life. All the time he was
+doing what could be done to help me he was also going through a most
+baffling and miserable time among the publishers; for 'At Strife,'
+unlike its predecessor, was rejected by Davison and by five other
+houses. Think of this, you comfortable readers, as you lie back in your
+easy chairs and leisurely turn the pages of that popular story. The book
+which represented years of study and long hours of hard work was first
+burnt to a cinder. It was re-written with what infinite pains and toil
+few can understand. It was then six times tied up and carried with
+anxiety and hope to a publisher's office, only to re-appear six times in
+Montague Street, an unwelcome visitor, bringing with it depression and
+disappointment.
+
+Derrick said little, but suffered much. However, nothing daunted him.
+When it came back from the sixth publisher he took it to a seventh, then
+returned and wrote away like a Trojan at his third book. The one thing
+that never failed him was that curious consciousness that he HAD to
+write; like the prophets of old, the 'burden' came to him, and speak it
+he must.
+
+The seventh publisher wrote a somewhat dubious letter: the book, he
+thought, had great merit, but unluckily people were prejudiced, and
+historical novels rarely met with success. However, he was willing to
+take the story, and offered half profits, candidly admitting that he
+had no great hopes of a large sale. Derrick instantly closed with this
+offer, proofs came in, the book appeared, was well received like its
+predecessor, fell into the hands of one of the leaders of Society, and,
+to the intense surprise of the publisher, proved to be the novel of
+the year. Speedily a second edition was called for; then, after a brief
+interval, a third edition--this time a rational one-volume affair; and
+the whole lot--6,000 I believe--went off on the day of publication.
+Derrick was amazed; but he enjoyed his success very heartily, and I
+think no one could say that he had leapt into fame at a bound.
+
+Having devoured 'At Strife,' people began to discover the merits of
+'Lynwood's Heritage;' the libraries were besieged for it, and a cheap
+edition was hastily published, and another and another, till the book,
+which at first had been such a dead failure, rivalled 'At Strife.' Truly
+an author's career is a curious thing; and precisely why the first book
+failed, and the second succeeded, no one could explain.
+
+It amused me very much to see Derrick turned into a lion--he was so
+essentially un-lion-like. People were for ever asking him how he
+worked, and I remember a very pretty girl setting upon him once at a
+dinner-party with the embarrassing request:
+
+"Now, do tell me, Mr. Vaughan, how do you write stories? I wish you
+would give me a good receipt for a novel."
+
+Derrick hesitated uneasily for a minute; finally, with a humorous smile,
+he said:
+
+"Well, I can't exactly tell you, because, more or less, novels grow;
+but if you want a receipt, you might perhaps try after this
+fashion:--Conceive your hero, add a sprinkling of friends and relatives,
+flavour with whatever scenery or local colour you please, carefully
+consider what circumstances are most likely to develop your man into the
+best he is capable of, allow the whole to simmer in your brain as long
+as you can, and then serve, while hot, with ink upon white or blue
+foolscap, according to taste."
+
+The young lady applauded the receipt, but she sighed a little, and
+probably relinquished all hope of concocting a novel herself; on the
+whole, it seemed to involve incessant taking of trouble.
+
+About this time I remember, too, another little scene, which I enjoyed
+amazingly. I laugh now when I think of it. I happened to be at a huge
+evening crush, and rather to my surprise, came across Lawrence Vaughan.
+We were talking together, when up came Connington of the Foreign Office.
+"I say, Vaughan," he said, "Lord Remington wishes to be introduced
+to you." I watched the old statesman a little curiously as he greeted
+Lawrence, and listened to his first words: "Very glad to make your
+acquaintance, Captain Vaughan; I understand that the author of that
+grand novel, 'At Strife,' is a brother of yours." And poor Lawrence
+spent a mauvais quart d'heure, inwardly fuming, I know, at the idea that
+he, the hero of Saspataras Hill, should be considered merely as 'the
+brother of Vaughan, the novelist.'
+
+Fate, or perhaps I should say the effect of his own pernicious actions,
+did not deal kindly just now with Lawrence. Somehow Freda learnt about
+that will, and, being no bread-and-butter miss, content meekly to adore
+her fiance and deem him faultless, she 'up and spake' on the subject,
+and I fancy poor Lawrence must have had another mauvais quart d'heure.
+It was not this, however, which led to a final breach between them; it
+was something which Sir Richard discovered with regard to Lawrence's
+life at Dover. The engagement was instantly broken off, and Freda, I am
+sure, felt nothing but relief. She went abroad for some time, however,
+and we did not see her till long after Lawrence had been comfortably
+married to 1,500 pounds a year and a middle-aged widow, who had long
+been a hero-worshipper, and who, I am told, never allowed any visitor to
+leave the house without making some allusion to the memorable battle of
+Saspataras Hill and her Lawrence's gallant action.
+
+For the two years following after the Major's death, Derrick and I, as I
+mentioned before, shared the rooms in Montague Street. For me, owing to
+the trouble I spoke of, they were years of maddening suspense and
+pain; but what pleasure I did manage to enjoy came entirely through the
+success of my friend's books and from his companionship. It was odd that
+from the care of his father he should immediately pass on to the care of
+one who had made such a disastrous mistake as I had made. But I feel the
+less compunction at the thought of the amount of sympathy I called
+for at that time, because I notice that the giving of sympathy is a
+necessity for Derrick, and that when the troubles of other folk do not
+immediately thrust themselves into his life he carefully hunts them
+up. During these two years he was reading for the Bar--not that he ever
+expected to do very much as a barrister, but he thought it well to have
+something to fall back on, and declared that the drudgery of the reading
+would do him good. He was also writing as usual, and he used to spend
+two evenings a week at Whitechapel, where he taught one of the classes
+in connection with Toynbee Hall, and where he gained that knowledge
+of East-end life which is conspicuous in his third book--'Dick Carew.'
+This, with an ever increasing and often very burdensome correspondence,
+brought to him by his books, and with a fair share of dinners, 'At
+Homes,' and so forth, made his life a full one. In a quiet sort of way I
+believe he was happy during this time. But later on, when, my trouble
+at an end, I had migrated to a house of my own, and he was left alone in
+the Montague Street rooms, his spirits somehow flagged.
+
+Fame is, after all, a hollow, unsatisfying thing to a man of his nature.
+He heartily enjoyed his success, he delighted in hearing that his books
+had given pleasure or had been of use to anyone, but no public victory
+could in the least make up to him for the loss he had suffered in his
+private life; indeed, I almost think there were times when his triumphs
+as an author seemed to him utterly worthless--days of depression when
+the congratulations of his friends were nothing but a mockery. He had
+gained a striking success, it is true, but he had lost Freda; he was in
+the position of the starving man who has received a gift of bon-bons,
+but so craves for bread that they half sicken him. I used now and
+then to watch his face when, as often happened, someone said: "What
+an enviable fellow you are, Vaughan, to get on like this!" or, "What
+wouldn't I give to change places with you!" He would invariably smile
+and turn the conversation; but there was a look in his eyes at such
+times that I hated to see--it always made me think of Mrs. Browning's
+poem, 'The Mask':
+
+     "Behind no prison-grate, she said,
+        Which slurs the sunshine half a mile,
+      Live captives so uncomforted
+        As souls behind a smile."
+
+As to the Merrifields, there was no chance of seeing them, for Sir
+Richard had gone to India in some official capacity, and no doubt,
+as everyone said, they would take good care to marry Freda out there.
+Derrick had not seen her since that trying February at Bath, long ago.
+Yet I fancy she was never out of his thoughts.
+
+And so the years rolled on, and Derrick worked away steadily, giving
+his books to the world, accepting the comforts and discomforts of
+an author's life, laughing at the outrageous reports that were in
+circulation about him, yet occasionally, I think, inwardly wincing at
+them, and learning from the number of begging letters which he received,
+and into which he usually caused searching inquiry to be made, that
+there are in the world a vast number of undeserving poor.
+
+One day I happened to meet Lady Probyn at a garden-party; it was at the
+same house on Campden Hill where I had once met Freda, and perhaps it
+was the recollection of this which prompted me to enquire after her.
+
+"She has not been well," said Lady Probyn, "and they are sending her
+back to England; the climate doesn't suit her. She is to make her home
+with us for the present, so I am the gainer. Freda has always been my
+favourite niece. I don't know what it is about her that is so taking;
+she is not half so pretty as the others."
+
+"But so much more charming," I said. "I wonder she has not married out
+in India, as everyone prophesied."
+
+"And so do I," said her aunt. "However, poor child, no doubt, after
+having been two years engaged to that very disappointing hero of
+Saspataras Hill, she will be shy of venturing to trust anyone again."
+
+"Do you think that affair ever went very deep?" I ventured to ask. "It
+seemed to me that she looked miserable during her engagement, and happy
+when it was broken off."
+
+"Quite so," said Lady Probyn; "I noticed the same thing. It was
+nothing but a mistake. They were not in the least suited to each other.
+By-the-by, I hear that Derrick Vaughan is married."
+
+"Derrick?" I exclaimed; "oh, no, that is a mistake. It is merely one
+of the hundred and one reports that are for ever being set afloat about
+him."
+
+"But I saw it in a paper, I assure you," said Lady Probyn, by no means
+convinced.
+
+"Ah, that may very well be; they were hard up for a paragraph, no doubt,
+and inserted it. But, as for Derrick, why, how should he marry? He has
+been madly in love with Miss Merrifield ever since our cruise in the
+Aurora."
+
+Lady Probyn made an inarticulate exclamation.
+
+"Poor fellow!" she said, after a minute's thought; "that explains much
+to me."
+
+She did not explain her rather ambiguous remark, and before long our
+tete-a-tete was interrupted.
+
+Now that my friend was a full-fledged barrister, he and I shared
+chambers, and one morning about a month after this garden party, Derrick
+came in with a face of such radiant happiness that I couldn't imagine
+what good luck had befallen him.
+
+"What do you think?" he exclaimed; "here's an invitation for a cruise in
+the Aurora at the end of August--to be nearly the same party that we had
+years ago," and he threw down the letter for me to read.
+
+Of course there was special mention of "my niece, Miss Merrifield, who
+has just returned from India, and is ordered plenty of sea-air." I could
+have told that without reading the letter, for it was written quite
+clearly in Derrick's face. He looked ten years younger, and if any of
+his adoring readers could have seen the pranks he was up to that morning
+in our staid and respectable chambers, I am afraid they would no longer
+have spoken of him "with 'bated breath and whispering humbleness."
+
+As it happened, I, too, was able to leave home for a fortnight at the
+end of August; and so our party in the Aurora really was the same,
+except that we were all several years older, and let us hope wiser, than
+on the previous occasion. Considering all that had intervened, I was
+surprised that Derrick was not more altered; as for Freda, she was
+decidedly paler than when we first met her, but before long sea-air and
+happiness wrought a wonderful transformation in her.
+
+In spite of the pessimists who are for ever writing books, even writing
+novels (more shame to them), to prove that there is no such thing as
+happiness in the world, we managed every one of us heartily to enjoy our
+cruise. It seemed indeed true that:
+
+     "Green leaves and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
+      And singing and loving all come back together."
+
+Something, at any rate, of the glamour of those past days came back to
+us all, I fancy, as we laughed and dozed and idled and talked beneath
+the snowy wings of the Aurora, and I cannot say I was in the least
+surprised when, on roaming through the pleasant garden walks in that
+unique little island of Tresco, I came once more upon Derrick and Freda,
+with, if you will believe it, another handful of white heather given
+to them by that discerning gardener! Freda once more reminded me of the
+girl in the 'Biglow Papers,' and Derrick's face was full of such bliss
+as one seldom sees.
+
+He had always had to wait for his good things, but in the end they came
+to him. However, you may depend upon it, he didn't say much. That was
+never his way. He only gripped my hand, and, with his eyes all aglow
+with happiness, exclaimed "Congratulate me, old fellow!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
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+Project Gutenberg Etext Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
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+
+Derrick Vaughan--Novelist
+
+
+
+
+'It is only through deep sympathy that a man can become a great
+artist.'--Lewes's Life of Goethe.
+
+
+'Sympathy is feeling related to an object, whilst sentiment is the
+same feeling seeking itself alone.'--Arnold Toynbee.
+
+
+
+Chapter I.
+
+
+'Nothing fills a child's mind like a large old mansion; better if
+un- or partially occupied; peopled with the spirits of deceased
+members of the county and Justices of the Quorum.  Would I were
+buried in the peopled solitude of one, with my feelings at seven
+years old!'--From Letters of Charles Lamb.
+
+
+To attempt a formal biography of Derrick Vaughan would be out of the
+question, even though he and I have been more or less thrown
+together since we were both in the nursery.  But I have an odd sort
+of wish to note down roughly just a few of my recollections of him,
+and to show how his fortunes gradually developed, being perhaps
+stimulated to make the attempt by certain irritating remarks which
+one overhears now often enough at clubs or in drawing-rooms, or
+indeed wherever one goes.  "Derrick Vaughan," say these authorities
+of the world of small-talk, with that delightful air of omniscience
+which invariably characterises them, "why, he simply leapt into
+fame.  He is one of the favourites of fortune.  Like Byron, he woke
+one morning and found himself famous."
+
+Now this sounds well enough, but it is a long way from the truth,
+and I--Sydney Wharncliffe, of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-law--
+desire, while the past few years are fresh in my mind, to write a
+true version of my friend's career.
+
+Everyone knows his face.  Has it not appeared in 'Noted Men,' and--
+gradually deteriorating according to the price of the paper and the
+quality of the engraving--in many another illustrated journal?  Yet
+somehow these works of art don't satisfy me, and, as I write, I see
+before me something very different from the latest photograph by
+Messrs. Paul and Reynard.
+
+I see a large-featured, broad-browed English face, a trifle heavy-
+looking when in repose, yet a thorough, honest, manly face, with a
+complexion neither dark nor fair, with brown hair and moustache, and
+with light hazel eyes that look out on the world quietly enough.
+You might talk to him for long in an ordinary way and never suspect
+that he was a genius; but when you have him to yourself, when some
+consciousness of sympathy rouses him, he all at once becomes a
+different being.  His quiet eyes kindle, his face becomes full of
+life--you wonder that you ever thought it heavy or commonplace.
+Then the world interrupts in some way, and, just as a hermit-crab
+draws down its shell with a comically rapid movement, so Derrick
+suddenly retires into himself.
+
+Thus much for his outer man.
+
+For the rest, there are of course the neat little accounts of his
+birthplace, his parentage, his education, etc., etc., published with
+the list of his works in due order, with the engravings in the
+illustrated papers.  But these tell us little of the real life of
+the man.
+
+Carlyle, in one of his finest passages, says that 'A true
+delineation of the smallest man and his scene of pilgrimage through
+life is capable of interesting the greatest men; that all men are to
+an unspeakable degree brothers, each man's life a strange emblem of
+every man's; and that human portraits faithfully drawn are of all
+pictures the welcomest on human walls.'  And though I don't profess
+to give a portrait, but merely a sketch, I will endeavour to sketch
+faithfully, and possibly in the future my work may fall into the
+hands of some of those worthy people who imagine that my friend
+leapt into fame at a bound, or of those comfortable mortals who seem
+to think that a novel is turned out as easily as water from a tap.
+
+There is, however, one thing I can never do:--I am quite unable to
+put into words my friend's intensely strong feeling with regard to
+the sacredness of his profession.  It seemed to me not unlike the
+feeling of Isaiah when, in the vision, his mouth had been touched
+with the celestial fire.  And I can only hope that something of this
+may be read between my very inadequate lines.
+
+Looking back, I fancy Derrick must have been a clever child.  But he
+was not precocious, and in some respects was even decidedly
+backward.  I can see him now--it is my first clear recollection of
+him--leaning back in the corner of my father's carriage as we drove
+from the Newmarket station to our summer home at Mondisfield.  He
+and I were small boys of eight, and Derrick had been invited for the
+holidays, while his twin brother--if I remember right--indulged in
+typhoid fever at Kensington.  He was shy and silent, and the ice was
+not broken until we passed Silvery Steeple.
+
+"That," said my father, "is a ruined church; it was destroyed by
+Cromwell in the Civil Wars."
+
+In an instant the small quiet boy sitting beside me was transformed.
+His eyes shone; he sprang forward and thrust his head far out of the
+window, gazing at the old ivy-covered tower as long as it remained
+in sight.
+
+"Was Cromwell really once there?" he asked with breathless interest.
+
+"So they say," replied my father, looking with an amused smile at
+the face of the questioner, in which eagerness, delight, and
+reverence were mingled.  "Are you an admirer of the Lord Protector?"
+
+"He is my greatest hero of all," said Derrick fervently.  "Do you
+think--oh, do you think he possibly can ever have come to
+Mondisfield?"
+
+My father thought not, but said there was an old tradition that the
+Hall had been attacked by the Royalists, and the bridge over the
+moat defended by the owner of the house; but he had no great belief
+in the story, for which, indeed, there seemed no evidence.
+
+Derrick's eyes during this conversation were something wonderful to
+see, and long after, when we were not actually playing at anything,
+I used often to notice the same expression stealing over him, and
+would cry out, "There is the man defending the bridge again; I can
+see him in your eyes!  Tell me what happened to him next!"
+
+Then, generally pacing to and fro in the apple walk, or sitting
+astride the bridge itself, Derrick would tell me of the adventures
+of my ancestor, Paul Wharncliffe, who performed incredible feats of
+valour, and who was to both of us a most real person.  On wet days
+he wrote his story in a copy-book, and would have worked at it for
+hours had my mother allowed him, though of the manual part of the
+work he had, and has always retained, the greatest dislike.  I
+remember well the comical ending of this first story of his.  He
+skipped over an interval of ten years, represented on the page by
+ten laboriously made stars, and did for his hero in the following
+lines:
+
+"And now, reader, let us come into Mondisfield churchyard.  There
+are three tombstones.  On one is written, 'Mr. Paul Wharncliffe.'"
+
+The story was no better than the productions of most eight-year-old
+children, the written story at least.  But, curiously enough, it
+proved to be the germ of the celebrated romance, 'At Strife,' which
+Derrick wrote in after years; and he himself maintains that his
+picture of life during the Civil War would have been much less
+graphic had he not lived so much in the past during his various
+visits to Mondisfield.
+
+It was at his second visit, when we were nine, that I remember his
+announcing his intention of being an author when he was grown up.
+My mother still delights in telling the story.  She was sitting at
+work in the south parlour one day, when I dashed into the room
+calling out:
+
+"Derrick's head is stuck between the banisters in the gallery; come
+quick, mother, come quick!"
+
+She ran up the little winding staircase, and there, sure enough, in
+the musician's gallery, was poor Derrick, his manuscript and pen on
+the floor and his head in durance vile.
+
+"You silly boy!" said my mother, a little frightened when she found
+that to get the head back was no easy matter, "What made you put it
+through?"
+
+"You look like King Charles at Carisbrooke," I cried, forgetting how
+much Derrick would resent the speech.
+
+And being released at that moment he took me by the shoulders and
+gave me an angry shake or two, as he said vehemently, "I'm not like
+King Charles!  King Charles was a liar."
+
+I saw my mother smile a little as she separated us.
+
+"Come, boys, don't quarrel," she said.  "And Derrick will tell me
+the truth, for indeed I am curious to know why he thrust his head in
+such a place."
+
+"I wanted to make sure," said Derrick, "whether Paul Wharncliffe
+could see Lady Lettice, when she took the falcon on her wrist below
+in the passage.  I mustn't say he saw her if it's impossible, you
+know.  Authors have to be quite true in little things, and I mean to
+be an author."
+
+"But," said my mother, laughing at the great earnestness of the
+hazel eyes, "could not your hero look over the top of the rail?"
+
+"Well, yes," said Derrick.  "He would have done that, but you see
+it's so dreadfully high and I couldn't get up.  But I tell you what,
+Mrs. Wharncliffe, if it wouldn't be giving you a great deal of
+trouble--I'm sorry you were troubled to get my head back again--but
+if you would just look over, since you are so tall, and I'll run
+down and act Lady Lettice."
+
+"Why couldn't Paul go downstairs and look at the lady in comfort?"
+asked my mother.
+
+Derrick mused a little.
+
+"He might look at her through a crack in the door at the foot of the
+stairs, perhaps, but that would seem mean, somehow.  It would be a
+pity, too, not to use the gallery; galleries are uncommon, you see,
+and you can get cracked doors anywhere.  And, you know, he was
+obliged to look at her when she couldn't see him, because their
+fathers were on different sides in the war, and dreadful enemies."
+
+When school-days came, matters went on much in the same way; there
+was always an abominably scribbled tale stowed away in Derrick's
+desk, and he worked infinitely harder than I did, because there was
+always before him this determination to be an author and to prepare
+himself for the life.  But he wrote merely from love of it, and with
+no idea of publication until the beginning of our last year at
+Oxford, when, having reached the ripe age of one-and-twenty, he
+determined to delay no longer, but to plunge boldly into his first
+novel.
+
+He was seldom able to get more than six or eight hours a week for
+it, because he was reading rather hard, so that the novel progressed
+but slowly.  Finally, to my astonishment, it came to a dead stand-
+still.
+
+I have never made out exactly what was wrong with Derrick then,
+though I know that he passed through a terrible time of doubt and
+despair.  I spent part of the Long with him down at Ventnor, where
+his mother had been ordered for her health.  She was devoted to
+Derrick, and as far as I can understand, he was her chief comfort in
+life.  Major Vaughan, the husband, had been out in India for years;
+the only daughter was married to a rich manufacturer at Birmingham,
+who had a constitutional dislike to mothers-in-law, and as far as
+possible eschewed their company; while Lawrence, Derrick's twin
+brother, was for ever getting into scrapes, and was into the bargain
+the most unblushingly selfish fellow I ever had the pleasure of
+meeting.
+
+"Sydney," said Mrs. Vaughan to me one afternoon when we were in the
+garden, "Derrick seems to me unlike himself, there is a division
+between us which I never felt before.  Can you tell me what is
+troubling him?"
+
+She was not at all a good-looking woman, but she had a very sweet,
+wistful face, and I never looked at her sad eyes without feeling
+ready to go through fire and water for her.  I tried now to make
+light of Derrick's depression.
+
+"He is only going through what we all of us go through," I said,
+assuming a cheerful tone.  "He has suddenly discovered that life is
+a great riddle, and that the things he has accepted in blind faith
+are, after all, not so sure."
+
+She sighed.
+
+"Do all go through it?" she said thoughtfully.  "And how many, I
+wonder, get beyond?"
+
+"Few enough," I replied moodily.  Then, remembering my role,--"But
+Derrick will get through; he has a thousand things to help him which
+others have not,--you, for instance.  And then I fancy he has a sort
+of insight which most of us are without."
+
+"Possibly," she said.  "As for me, it is little that I can do for
+him.  Perhaps you are right, and it is true that once in a life at
+any rate we all have to go into the wilderness alone."
+
+That was the last summer I ever saw Derrick's mother; she took a
+chill the following Christmas and died after a few days' illness.
+But I have always thought her death helped Derrick in a way that her
+life might have failed to do.  For although he never, I fancy, quite
+recovered from the blow, and to this day cannot speak of her without
+tears in his eyes, yet when he came back to Oxford he seemed to have
+found the answer to the riddle, and though older, sadder and graver
+than before, had quite lost the restless dissatisfaction that for
+some time had clouded his life.  In a few months, moreover, I
+noticed a fresh sign that he was out of the wood.  Coming into his
+rooms one day I found him sitting in the cushioned window-seat,
+reading over and correcting some sheets of blue foolscap.
+
+"At it again?" I asked.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"I mean to finish the first volume here.  For the rest I must be in
+London."
+
+"Why?" I asked, a little curious as to this unknown art of novel-
+making.
+
+"Because," he replied, "one must be in the heart of things to
+understand how Lynwood was affected by them."
+
+"Lynwood!  I believe you are always thinking of him!"  (Lynwood was
+the hero of his novel.)
+
+"Well, so I am nearly--so I must be, if the book is to be any good."
+
+"Read me what you have written," I said, throwing myself back in a
+rickety but tolerably comfortable arm-chair which Derrick had
+inherited with the rooms.
+
+He hesitated a moment, being always very diffident about his own
+work; but presently, having provided me with a cigar and made a good
+deal of unnecessary work in arranging the sheets of the manuscript,
+he began to read aloud, rather nervously, the opening chapters of
+the book now so well known under the title of 'Lynwood's Heritage.'
+
+I had heard nothing of his for the last four years, and was amazed
+at the gigantic stride he had made in the interval.  For, spite of a
+certain crudeness, it seemed to me a most powerful story; it rushed
+straight to the point with no wavering, no beating about the bush;
+it flung itself into the problems of the day with a sort of sublime
+audacity; it took hold of one; it whirled one along with its own
+inherent force, and drew forth both laughter and tears, for
+Derrick's power of pathos had always been his strongest point.
+
+All at once he stopped reading.
+
+"Go on!" I cried impatiently.
+
+"That is all," he said, gathering the sheets together.
+
+"You stopped in the middle of a sentence!" I cried in exasperation.
+
+"Yes," he said quietly, "for six months."
+
+"You provoking fellow! why, I wonder?"
+
+"Because I didn't know the end."
+
+"Good heavens!  And do you know it now?"
+
+He looked me full in the face, and there was an expression in his
+eyes which puzzled me.
+
+"I believe I do," he said; and, getting up, he crossed the room, put
+the manuscript away in a drawer, and returning, sat down in the
+window-seat again, looking out on the narrow, paved street below,
+and at the grey buildings opposite.
+
+I knew very well that he would never ask me what I thought of the
+story--that was not his way.
+
+"Derrick!" I exclaimed, watching his impassive face, "I believe
+after all you are a genius."
+
+I hardly know why I said "after all," but till that moment it had
+never struck me that Derrick was particularly gifted.  He had so far
+got through his Oxford career creditably, but then he had worked
+hard; his talents were not of a showy order.  I had never expected
+that he would set the Thames on fire.  Even now it seemed to me that
+he was too dreamy, too quiet, too devoid of the pushing faculty to
+succeed in the world.
+
+My remark made him laugh incredulously.
+
+"Define a genius," he said.
+
+For answer I pulled down his beloved Imperial Dictionary and read
+him the following quotation from De Quincey:  'Genius is that mode
+of intellectual power which moves in alliance with the genial
+nature, i.e., with the capacities of pleasure and pain; whereas
+talent has no vestige of such an alliance, and is perfectly
+independent of all human sensibilities.'
+
+"Let me think!  You can certainly enjoy things a hundred times more
+than I can--and as for suffering, why you were always a great hand
+at that.  Now listen to the great Dr. Johnson and see if the cap
+fits, 'The true genius is a mind of large general powers
+accidentally determined in some particular direction.'
+
+
+"'Large general powers'!--yes, I believe after all you have them
+with, alas, poor Derrick! one notable exception--the mathematical
+faculty.  You were always bad at figures.  We will stick to De
+Quincey's definition, and for heaven's sake, my dear fellow, do get
+Lynwood out of that awful plight!  No wonder you were depressed when
+you lived all this age with such a sentence unfinished!"
+
+"For the matter of that," said Derrick, "he can't get out till the
+end of the book; but I can begin to go on with him now."
+
+"And when you leave Oxford?"
+
+"Then I mean to settle down in London--to write leisurely--and
+possibly to read for the Bar."
+
+"We might be together," I suggested.  And Derrick took to this idea,
+being a man who detested solitude and crowds about equally.  Since
+his mother's death he had been very much alone in the world.  To
+Lawrence he was always loyal, but the two had nothing in common, and
+though fond of his sister he could not get on at all with the
+manufacturer, his brother-in-law.  But this prospect of life
+together in London pleased him amazingly; he began to recover his
+spirits to a great extent and to look much more like himself.
+
+It must have been just as he had taken his degree that he received a
+telegram to announce that Major Vaughan had been invalided home, and
+would arrive at Southampton in three weeks' time.  Derrick knew very
+little of his father, but apparently Mrs. Vaughan had done her best
+to keep up a sort of memory of his childish days at Aldershot, and
+in these the part that his father played was always pleasant.  So he
+looked forward to the meeting not a little, while I, from the first,
+had my doubts as to the felicity it was likely to bring him.
+
+However, it was ordained that before the Major's ship arrived, his
+son's whole life should change.  Even Lynwood was thrust into the
+background.  As for me, I was nowhere.  For Derrick, the quiet, the
+self-contained, had fallen passionately in love with a certain Freda
+Merrifield.
+
+
+
+Chapter II.
+
+     'Infancy?  What if the rose-streak of morning
+      Pale and depart in a passion of tears?
+      Once to have hoped is no matter for scorning:
+      Love once:  e'en love's disappointment endears;
+      A moment's success pays the failure of years.'
+                                               R. Browning.
+
+The wonder would have been if he had not fallen in love with her,
+for a more fascinating girl I never saw.  She had only just returned
+from school at Compiegne, and was not yet out; her charming
+freshness was unsullied; she had all the simplicity and
+straightforwardness of unspoilt, unsophisticated girlhood.  I well
+remember our first sight of her.  We had been invited for a
+fortnight's yachting by Calverley of Exeter.  His father, Sir John
+Calverley, had a sailing yacht, and some guests having disappointed
+him at the last minute, he gave his son carte blanche as to who he
+should bring to fill the vacant berths.
+
+So we three travelled down to Southampton together one hot summer
+day, and were rowed out to the Aurora, an uncommonly neat little
+schooner which lay in that over-rated and frequently odoriferous
+roadstead, Southampton Water.  However, I admit that on that
+evening--the tide being high--the place looked remarkably pretty;
+the level rays of the setting sun turned the water to gold; a soft
+luminous haze hung over the town and the shipping, and by a stretch
+of imagination one might have thought the view almost Venetian.
+Derrick's perfect content was only marred by his shyness.  I knew
+that he dreaded reaching the Aurora; and sure enough, as we stepped
+on to the exquisitely white deck and caught sight of the little
+group of guests, I saw him retreat into his crab-shell of silent
+reserve.  Sir John, who made a very pleasant host, introduced us to
+the other visitors--Lord Probyn and his wife and their niece, Miss
+Freda Merrifield.  Lady Probyn was Sir John's sister, and also the
+sister of Miss Merrifield's mother; so that it was almost a family
+party, and by no means a formidable gathering.  Lady Probyn played
+the part of hostess and chaperoned her pretty niece; but she was not
+in the least like the aunt of fiction--on the contrary, she was
+comparatively young in years and almost comically young in mind; her
+niece was devoted to her, and the moment I saw her I knew that our
+cruise could not possibly be dull.
+
+As to Miss Freda, when we first caught sight of her she was standing
+near the companion, dressed in a daintily made yachting costume of
+blue serge and white braid, and round her white sailor hat she wore
+the name of the yacht stamped on a white ribbon; in her waist-band
+she had fastened two deep crimson roses, and she looked at us with
+frank, girlish curiosity, no doubt wondering whether we should add
+to or detract from the enjoyment of the expedition.  She was rather
+tall, and there was an air of strength and energy about her which
+was most refreshing.  Her skin was singularly white, but there was a
+healthy glow of colour in her cheeks; while her large, grey eyes,
+shaded by long lashes, were full of life and brightness.  As to her
+features, they were perhaps a trifle irregular, and her elder
+sisters were supposed to eclipse her altogether; but to my mind she
+was far the most taking of the three.
+
+I was not in the least surprised that Derrick should fall head over
+ears in love with her; she was exactly the sort of girl that would
+infallibly attract him.  Her absence of shyness; her
+straightforward, easy way of talking; her genuine goodheartedness;
+her devotion to animals--one of his own pet hobbies--and finally her
+exquisite playing, made the result a foregone conclusion.  And then,
+moreover, they were perpetually together.  He would hang over the
+piano in the saloon for hours while she played, the rest of us
+lazily enjoying the easy chairs and the fresh air on deck; and
+whenever we landed, these two were sure in the end to be just a
+little apart from the rest of us.
+
+It was an eminently successful cruise.  We all liked each other; the
+sea was calm, the sunshine constant, the wind as a rule favourable,
+and I think I never in a single fortnight heard so many good
+stories, or had such a good time.  We seemed to get right out of the
+world and its narrow restrictions, away from all that was hollow and
+base and depressing, only landing now and then at quaint little
+quiet places for some merry excursion on shore.  Freda was in the
+highest spirits; and as to Derrick, he was a different creature.
+She seemed to have the power of drawing him out in a marvellous
+degree, and she took the greatest interest in his work--a sure way
+to every author's heart.
+
+But it was not till one day, when we landed at Tresco, that I felt
+certain she genuinely loved him--there in one glance the truth
+flashed upon me.  I was walking with one of the gardeners down one
+of the long shady paths of that lovely little island, with its
+curiously foreign look, when we suddenly came face to face with
+Derrick and Freda.  They were talking earnestly, and I could see her
+great grey eyes as they were lifted to his--perhaps they were more
+expressive than she knew--I cannot say.  They both started a little
+as we confronted them, and the colour deepened in Freda's face.  The
+gardener, with what photographers usually ask for--'just the faint
+beginning of a smile,'--turned and gathered a bit of white heather
+growing near.
+
+"They say it brings good luck, miss," he remarked, handing it to
+Freda.
+
+"Thank you," she said, laughing, "I hope it will bring it to me.  At
+any rate it will remind me of this beautiful island.  Isn't it just
+like Paradise, Mr. Wharncliffe?"
+
+"For me it is like Paradise before Eve was created," I replied,
+rather wickedly.  "By the bye, are you going to keep all the good
+luck to yourself?"
+
+"I don't know," she said laughing.  "Perhaps I shall; but you have
+only to ask the gardener, he will gather you another piece
+directly."
+
+I took good care to drop behind, having no taste for the third-
+fiddle business; but I noticed when we were in the gig once more,
+rowing back to the yacht, that the white heather had been equally
+divided--one half was in the waist-band of the blue serge dress, the
+other half in the button-hole of Derrick's blazer.
+
+So the fortnight slipped by, and at length one afternoon we found
+ourselves once more in Southampton Water; then came the bustle of
+packing and the hurry of departure, and the merry party dispersed.
+Derrick and I saw them all off at the station, for, as his father's
+ship did not arrive till the following day, I made up my mind to
+stay on with him at Southampton.
+
+"You will come and see us in town," said Lady Probyn, kindly.  And
+Lord Probyn invited us both for the shooting at Blachington in
+September.  "We will have the same party on shore, and see if we
+can't enjoy ourselves almost as well," he said in his hearty way;
+"the novel will go all the better for it, eh, Vaughan?"
+
+Derrick brightened visibly at the suggestion.  I heard him talking
+to Freda all the time that Sir John stood laughing and joking as to
+the comparative pleasures of yachting and shooting.
+
+"You will be there too?" Derrick asked.
+
+"I can't tell," said Freda, and there was a shade of sadness in her
+tone.  Her voice was deeper than most women's voices--a rich
+contralto with something striking and individual about it.  I could
+hear her quite plainly; but Derrick spoke less distinctly--he always
+had a bad trick of mumbling.
+
+"You see I am the youngest," she said, "and I am not really 'out.'
+Perhaps my mother will wish one of the elder ones to go; but I half
+think they are already engaged for September, so after all I may
+have a chance."
+
+Inaudible remark from my friend.
+
+"Yes, I came here because my sisters did not care to leave London
+till the end of the season," replied the clear contralto.  "It has
+been a perfect cruise.  I shall remember it all my life."
+
+After that, nothing more was audible; but I imagine Derrick must
+have hazarded a more personal question, and that Freda had admitted
+that it was not only the actual sailing she should remember.  At any
+rate her face when I caught sight of it again made me think of the
+girl described in the 'Biglow Papers':
+
+     "''Twas kin' o' kingdom come to look
+        On sech a blessed creatur.
+        A dogrose blushin' to a brook
+        Ain't modester nor sweeter.'"
+
+So the train went off, and Derrick and I were left to idle about
+Southampton and kill time as best we might.  Derrick seemed to walk
+the streets in a sort of dream--he was perfectly well aware that he
+had met his fate, and at that time no thought of difficulties in the
+way had arisen either in his mind or in my own.  We were both of us
+young and inexperienced; we were both of us in love, and we had the
+usual lover's notion that everything in heaven and earth is prepared
+to favour the course of his particular passion.
+
+I remember that we soon found the town intolerable, and, crossing by
+the ferry, walked over to Netley Abbey, and lay down idly in the
+shade of the old grey walls.  Not a breath of wind stirred the great
+masses of ivy which were wreathed about the ruined church, and the
+place looked so lovely in its decay, that we felt disposed to judge
+the dissolute monks very leniently for having behaved so badly that
+their church and monastery had to be opened to the four winds of
+heaven.  After all, when is a church so beautiful as when it has the
+green grass for its floor and the sky for its roof?
+
+I could show you the very spot near the East window where Derrick
+told me the whole truth, and where we talked over Freda's
+perfections and the probability of frequent meetings in London.  He
+had listened so often and so patiently to my affairs, that it seemed
+an odd reversal to have to play the confidant; and if now and then
+my thoughts wandered off to the coming month at Mondisfield, and
+pictured violet eyes while he talked of grey, it was not from any
+lack of sympathy with my friend.
+
+Derrick was not of a self-tormenting nature, and though I knew he
+was amazed at the thought that such a girl as Freda could possibly
+care for him, yet he believed most implicitly that this wonderful
+thing had come to pass; and, remembering her face as we had last
+seen it, and the look in her eyes at Tresco, I, too, had not a
+shadow of a doubt that she really loved him.  She was not the least
+bit of a flirt, and society had not had a chance yet of moulding her
+into the ordinary girl of the nineteenth century.
+
+Perhaps it was the sudden and unexpected change of the next day that
+makes me remember Derrick's face so distinctly as he lay back on the
+smooth turf that afternoon in Netley Abbey.  As it looked then, full
+of youth and hope, full of that dream of cloudless love, I never saw
+it again.
+
+
+
+Chapter III.
+
+"Religion in him never died, but became a habit--a habit of enduring
+hardness, and cleaving to the steadfast performance of duty in the
+face of the strongest allurements to the pleasanter and easier
+course."
+                              Life of Charles Lamb, by A. Ainger.
+
+Derrick was in good spirits the next day.  He talked much of Major
+Vaughan, wondered whether the voyage home had restored his health,
+discussed the probable length of his leave, and speculated as to the
+nature of his illness; the telegram had of course given no details.
+
+"There has not been even a photograph for the last five years," he
+remarked, as we walked down to the quay together.  "Yet I think I
+should know him anywhere, if it is only by his height.  He used to
+look so well on horseback.  I remember as a child seeing him in a
+sham fight charging up Caesar's Camp."
+
+"How old were you when he went out?"
+
+"Oh, quite a small boy," replied Derrick.  "It was just before I
+first stayed with you.  However, he has had a regular succession of
+photographs sent out to him, and will know me easily enough."
+
+Poor Derrick!  I can't think of that day even now without a kind of
+mental shiver.  We watched the great steamer as it glided up to the
+quay, and Derrick scanned the crowded deck with eager eyes, but
+could nowhere see the tall, soldierly figure that had lingered so
+long in his memory.  He stood with his hand resting on the rail of
+the gangway, and when presently it was raised to the side of the
+steamer, he still kept his position, so that he could instantly
+catch sight of his father as he passed down.  I stood close behind
+him, and watched the motley procession of passengers; most of them
+had the dull colourless skin which bespeaks long residence in India,
+and a particularly yellow and peevish-looking old man was grumbling
+loudly as he slowly made his way down the gangway.
+
+"The most disgraceful scene!" he remarked.  "The fellow was as drunk
+as he could be."
+
+"Who was it?" asked his companion.
+
+"Why, Major Vaughan, to be sure.  The only wonder is that he hasn't
+drunk himself to death by this time--been at it years enough!"
+
+Derrick turned, as though to shelter himself from the curious eyes
+of the travellers; but everywhere the quay was crowded.  It seemed
+to me not unlike the life that lay before him, with this new shame
+which could not be hid, and I shall never forget the look of misery
+in his face.
+
+"Most likely a great exaggeration of that spiteful old fogey's," I
+said.  "Never believe anything that you hear, is a sound axiom.  Had
+you not better try to get on board?"
+
+"Yes; and for heaven's sake come with me, Wharncliffe!" he said.
+"It can't be true!  It is, as you say, that man's spite, or else
+there is someone else of the name on board.  That must be it--
+someone else of the name."
+
+I don't know whether he managed to deceive himself.  We made our way
+on board, and he spoke to one of the stewards, who conducted us to
+the saloon.  I knew from the expression of the man's face that the
+words we had overheard were but too true; it was a mere glance that
+he gave us, yet if he had said aloud, "They belong to that old
+drunkard!  Thank heaven I'm not in their shoes!"  I could not have
+better understood what was in his mind.
+
+There were three persons only in the great saloon:  an officer's
+servant, whose appearance did not please me; a fine looking old man
+with grey hair and whiskers, and a rough-hewn honest face,
+apparently the ship's doctor; and a tall grizzled man in whom I at
+once saw a sort of horrible likeness to Derrick--horrible because
+this face was wicked and degraded, and because its owner was drunk--
+noisily drunk.  Derrick paused for a minute, looking at his father;
+then, deadly pale, he turned to the old doctor.  "I am Major
+Vaughan's son," he said.
+
+The doctor grasped his hand, and there was something in the old
+man's kindly, chivalrous manner which brought a sort of light into
+the gloom.
+
+"I am very glad to see you!" he exclaimed.  "Is the Major's luggage
+ready?" he inquired turning to the servant.  Then, as the man
+replied in the affirmative, "How would it be, Mr. Vaughan, if your
+father's man just saw the things into a cab? and then I'll come on
+shore with you and see my patient safely settled in."
+
+Derrick acquiesced, and the doctor turned to the Major, who was
+leaning up against one of the pillars of the saloon and shouting out
+"'Twas in Trafalgar Bay," in a way which, under other circumstances,
+would have been highly comic.  The doctor interrupted him, as with
+much feeling he sang how:
+
+     "England declared that every man
+      That day had done his duty."
+
+"Look, Major," he said; "here is your son come to meet you."
+
+"Glad to see you, my boy," said the Major, reeling forward and
+running all his words together.  "How's your mother?  Is this
+Lawrence?  Glad to see both of you!  Why, you'r's like's two peas!
+Not Lawrence, do you say?  Confound it, doctor, how the ship rolls
+to-day!"
+
+And the old wretch staggered and would have fallen, had not Derrick
+supported him and landed him safely on one of the fixed ottomans.
+
+"Yes, yes, you're the son for me," he went on, with a bland smile,
+which made his face all the more hideous.  "You're not so rough and
+clumsy as that confounded John Thomas, whose hands are like
+brickbats.  I'm a mere wreck, as you see; it's the accursed climate!
+But your mother will soon nurse me into health again; she was always
+a good nurse, poor soul! it was her best point.  What with you and
+your mother, I shall soon be myself again."
+
+Here the doctor interposed, and Derrick made desperately for a
+porthole and gulped down mouthfuls of fresh air:  but he was not
+allowed much of a respite, for the servant returned to say that he
+had procured a cab, and the Major called loudly for his son's arm.
+
+"I'll not have you," he said, pushing the servant violently away.
+"Come, Derrick, help me! you are worth two of that blockhead."
+
+And Derrick came quickly forward, his face still very pale, but with
+a dignity about it which I had never before seen; and, giving his
+arm to his drunken father, he piloted him across the saloon, through
+the staring ranks of stewards, officials, and tardy passengers
+outside, down the gangway, and over the crowded quay to the cab.  I
+knew that each derisive glance of the spectators was to him like a
+sword-thrust, and longed to throttle the Major, who seemed to enjoy
+himself amazingly on terra firma, and sang at the top of his voice
+as we drove through the streets of Southampton.  The old doctor kept
+up a cheery flow of small-talk with me, thinking, no doubt, that
+this would be a kindness to Derrick:  and at last that purgatorial
+drive ended, and somehow Derrick and the doctor between them got the
+Major safely into his room at Radley's Hotel.
+
+We had ordered lunch in a private sitting-room, thinking that the
+Major would prefer it to the coffee-room; but, as it turned out, he
+was in no state to appear.  They left him asleep, and the ship's
+doctor sat in the seat that had been prepared for his patient, and
+made the meal as tolerable to us both as it could be.  He was an
+odd, old-fashioned fellow, but as true a gentleman as ever breathed.
+
+"Now," he said, when lunch was over, "you and I must have a talk
+together, Mr. Vaughan, and I will help you to understand your
+father's case."
+
+I made a movement to go, but sat down again at Derrick's request.  I
+think, poor old fellow, he dreaded being alone, and knowing that I
+had seen his father at the worst, thought I might as well hear all
+particulars.
+
+"Major Vaughan," continued the doctor, "has now been under my care
+for some weeks, and I had some communication with the regimental
+surgeon about his case before he sailed.  He is suffering from an
+enlarged liver, and the disease has been brought on by his
+unfortunate habit of over-indulgence in stimulants."  I could almost
+have smiled, so very gently and considerately did the good old man
+veil in long words the shameful fact.  "It is a habit sadly
+prevalent among our fellow-countrymen in India; the climate
+aggravates the mischief, and very many lives are in this way ruined.
+Then your father was also unfortunate enough to contract rheumatism
+when he was camping out in the jungle last year, and this is
+increasing on him very much, so that his life is almost intolerable
+to him, and he naturally flies for relief to his greatest enemy,
+drink.  At all costs, however, you must keep him from stimulants;
+they will only intensify the disease and the sufferings, in fact
+they are poison to a man in such a state.  Don't think I am a bigot
+in these matters; but I say that for a man in such a condition as
+this, there is nothing for it but total abstinence, and at all costs
+your father must be guarded from the possibility of procuring any
+sort of intoxicating drink.  Throughout the voyage I have done my
+best to shield him, but it was a difficult matter.  His servant,
+too, is not trustworthy, and should be dismissed if possible."
+
+"Had he spoken at all of his plans?" asked Derrick, and his voice
+sounded strangely unlike itself.
+
+"He asked me what place in England he had better settle down in,"
+said the doctor, "and I strongly recommended him to try Bath.  This
+seemed to please him, and if he is well enough he had better go
+there to-morrow.  He mentioned your mother this morning; no doubt
+she will know how to manage him."
+
+"My mother died six months ago," said Derrick, pushing back his
+chair and beginning to pace the room.  The doctor made kindly
+apologies.
+
+"Perhaps you have a sister, who could go to him?"
+
+"No," replied Derrick.  "My only sister is married, and her husband
+would never allow it."
+
+"Or a cousin or an aunt?" suggested the old man, naively unconscious
+that the words sounded like a quotation.
+
+I saw the ghost of a smile flit over Derrick's harassed face as he
+shook his head.
+
+"I suggested that he should go into some Home for--cases of the
+kind," resumed the doctor, "or place himself under the charge of
+some medical man; however, he won't hear of such a thing.  But if he
+is left to himself--well, it is all up with him.  He will drink
+himself to death in a few months."
+
+"He shall not be left alone," said Derrick; "I will live with him.
+Do you think I should do?  It seems to be Hobson's choice."
+
+I looked up in amazement--for here was Derrick calmly giving himself
+up to a life that must crush every plan for the future he had made.
+Did men make such a choice as that while they took two or three
+turns in a room?  Did they speak so composedly after a struggle that
+must have been so bitter?  Thinking it over now, I feel sure it was
+his extraordinary gift of insight and his clear judgment which made
+him behave in this way.  He instantly perceived and promptly acted;
+the worst of the suffering came long after.
+
+"Why, of course you are the very best person in the world for him,"
+said the doctor.  "He has taken a fancy to you, and evidently you
+have a certain influence with him.  If any one can save him it will
+be you."
+
+But the thought of allowing Derrick to be sacrificed to that old
+brute of a Major was more than I could bear calmly.
+
+"A more mad scheme was never proposed," I cried.  "Why, doctor, it
+will be utter ruin to my friend's career; he will lose years that no
+one can ever make up.  And besides, he is unfit for such a strain,
+he will never stand it."
+
+My heart felt hot as I thought of Derrick, with his highly-strung,
+sensitive nature, his refinement, his gentleness, in constant
+companionship with such a man as Major Vaughan.
+
+"My dear sir," said the old doctor, with a gleam in his eye, "I
+understand your feeling well enough.  But depend upon it, your
+friend has made the right choice, and there is no doubt that he'll
+be strong enough to do his duty."
+
+The word reminded me of the Major's song, and my voice was
+abominably sarcastic in tone as I said to Derrick, "You no longer
+consider writing your duty then?"
+
+"Yes," he said, "but it must stand second to this.  Don't be vexed,
+Sydney; our plans are knocked on the head, but it is not so bad as
+you make out.  I have at any rate enough to live on, and can afford
+to wait."
+
+There was no more to be said, and the next day I saw that strange
+trio set out on their road to Bath.  The Major looking more wicked
+when sober than he had done when drunk; the old doctor kindly and
+considerate as ever; and Derrick, with an air of resolution about
+that English face of his and a dauntless expression in his eyes
+which impressed me curiously.
+
+These quiet, reserved fellows are always giving one odd surprises.
+He had astonished me by the vigour and depth of the first volume of
+'Lynwood's Heritage.'  He astonished me now by a new phase in his
+own character.  Apparently he who had always been content to follow
+where I led, and to watch life rather than to take an active share
+in it, now intended to strike out a very decided line of his own.
+
+
+
+Chapter IV.
+
+"Both Goethe and Schiller were profoundly convinced that Art was no
+luxury of leisure, no mere amusement to charm the idle, or relax the
+careworn; but a mighty influence, serious in its aims although
+pleasureable in its means; a sister of Religion, by whose aid the
+great world-scheme was wrought into reality."
+                                    Lewes's Life of Goethe.
+
+Man is a selfish being, and I am a particularly fine specimen of the
+race as far as that characteristic goes.  If I had had a dozen
+drunken parents I should never have danced attendance on one of
+them; yet in my secret soul I admired Derrick for the line he had
+taken, for we mostly do admire what is unlike ourselves and really
+noble, though it is the fashion to seem totally indifferent to
+everything in heaven and earth.  But all the same I felt annoyed
+about the whole business, and was glad to forget it in my own
+affairs at Mondisfield.
+
+Weeks passed by.  I lived through a midsummer dream of happiness,
+and a hard awaking.  That, however, has nothing to do with Derrick's
+story, and may be passed over.  In October I settled down in
+Montague Street, Bloomsbury, and began to read for the Bar, in about
+as disagreeable a frame of mind as can be conceived.  One morning I
+found on my breakfast table a letter in Derrick's handwriting.  Like
+most men, we hardly ever corresponded--what women say in the eternal
+letters they send to each other I can't conceive--but it struck me
+that under the circumstances I ought to have sent him a line to ask
+how he was getting on, and my conscience pricked me as I remembered
+that I had hardly thought of him since we parted, being absorbed in
+my own matters.  The letter was not very long, but when one read
+between the lines it somehow told a good deal.  I have it lying by
+me, and this is a copy of it:
+
+"Dear Sydney,--Do like a good fellow go to North Audley Street for
+me, to the house which I described to you as the one where Lynwood
+lodged, and tell me what he would see besides the church from his
+window--if shops, what kind?  Also if any glimpse of Oxford Street
+would be visible.  Then if you'll add to your favours by getting me
+a second-hand copy of Laveleye's 'Socialisme Contemporain,' I should
+be for ever grateful.  We are settled in here all right.  Bath is
+empty, but I people it as far as I can with the folk out of
+'Evelina' and 'Persuasion.'  How did you get on at Blachington? and
+which of the Misses Merrifield went in the end?  Don't bother about
+the commissions.  Any time will do.
+     "Ever yours,
+          "Derrick Vaughan."
+
+Poor old fellow! all the spirit seemed knocked out of him.  There
+was not one word about the Major, and who could say what
+wretchedness was veiled in that curt phrase, "we are settled in all
+right"?  All right! it was all as wrong as it could be!  My blood
+began to boil at the thought of Derrick, with his great powers--his
+wonderful gift--cooped up in a place where the study of life was so
+limited and so dull.  Then there was his hunger for news of Freda,
+and his silence as to what had kept him away from Blachington, and
+about all a sort of proud humility which prevented him from saying
+much that I should have expected him to say under the circumstances.
+
+It was Saturday, and my time was my own.  I went out, got his book
+for him; interviewed North Audley Street; spent a bad five minutes
+in company with that villain 'Bradshaw,' who is responsible for so
+much of the brain and eye disease of the nineteenth century, and
+finally left Paddington in the Flying Dutchman, which landed me at
+Bath early in the afternoon.  I left my portmanteau at the station,
+and walked through the city till I reached Gay Street.  Like most of
+the streets of Bath, it was broad, and had on either hand dull,
+well-built, dark grey, eminently respectable, unutterably dreary-
+looking houses.  I rang, and the door was opened to me by a most
+quaint old woman, evidently the landlady.  An odour of curry
+pervaded the passage, and became more oppressive as the door of the
+sitting-room was opened, and I was ushered in upon the Major and his
+son, who had just finished lunch.
+
+"Hullo!" cried Derrick, springing up, his face full of delight which
+touched me, while at the same time it filled me with envy.
+
+Even the Major thought fit to give me a hearty welcome.
+
+"Glad to see you again," he said pleasantly enough.  "It's a relief
+to have a fresh face to look at.  We have a room which is quite at
+your disposal, and I hope you'll stay with us.  Brought your
+portmanteau, eh?"
+
+"It is at the station," I replied.
+
+"See that it is sent for," he said to Derrick; "and show Mr.
+Wharncliffe all that is to be seen in this cursed hole of a place."
+Then, turning again to me, "Have you lunched?  Very well, then,
+don't waste this fine afternoon in an invalid's room, but be off and
+enjoy yourself."
+
+So cordial was the old man, that I should have thought him already a
+reformed character, had I not found that he kept the rough side of
+his tongue for home use.  Derrick placed a novel and a small
+handbell within his reach, and we were just going, when we were
+checked by a volley of oaths from the Major; then a book came flying
+across the room, well aimed at Derrick's head.  He stepped aside,
+and let it fall with a crash on the sideboard.
+
+"What do you mean by giving me the second volume when you know I am
+in the third?" fumed the invalid.
+
+He apologised quietly, fetched the third volume, straightened the
+disordered leaves of the discarded second, and with the air of one
+well accustomed to such little domestic scenes, took up his hat and
+came out with me.
+
+"How long do you intend to go on playing David to the Major's Saul?"
+I asked, marvelling at the way in which he endured the humours of
+his father.
+
+"As long as I have the chance," he replied.  "I say, are you sure
+you won't mind staying with us?  It can't be a very comfortable
+household for an outsider."
+
+"Much better than for an insider, to all appearance," I replied.
+"I'm only too delighted to stay.  And now, old fellow, tell me the
+honest truth--you didn't, you know, in your letter--how have you
+been getting on?"
+
+Derrick launched into an account of his father's ailments.
+
+"Oh, hang the Major!  I don't care about him, I want to know about
+you," I cried.
+
+"About me?" said Derrick doubtfully.  "Oh, I'm right enough."
+
+"What do you do with yourself?  How on earth do you kill time?" I
+asked.  "Come, give me a full, true, and particular account of it
+all."
+
+"We have tried three other servants," said Derrick; "but the plan
+doesn't answer.  They either won't stand it, or else they are bribed
+into smuggling brandy into the house.  I find I can do most things
+for my father, and in the morning he has an attendant from the
+hospital who is trustworthy, and who does what is necessary for him.
+At ten we breakfast together, then there are the morning papers,
+which he likes to have read to him.  After that I go round to the
+Pump Room with him--odd contrast now to what it must have been when
+Bath was the rage.  Then we have lunch.  In the afternoon, if he is
+well enough, we drive; if not he sleeps, and I get a walk.  Later on
+an old Indian friend of his will sometimes drop in; if not he likes
+to be read to until dinner.  After dinner we play chess--he is a
+first-rate player.  At ten I help him to bed; from eleven to twelve
+I smoke and study Socialism and all the rest of it that Lynwood is
+at present floundering in."
+
+"Why don't you write, then?"
+
+"I tried it, but it didn't answer.  I couldn't sleep after it, and
+was, in fact, too tired; seems absurd to be tired after such a day
+as that, but somehow it takes it out of one more than the hardest
+reading; I don't know why."
+
+"Why," I said angrily, "it's because it is work to which you are
+quite unsuited--work for a thick-skinned, hard-hearted, uncultivated
+and well-paid attendant, not for the novelist who is to be the chief
+light of our generation."
+
+He laughed at this estimate of his powers.
+
+"Novelists, like other cattle, have to obey their owner," he said
+lightly.
+
+I thought for a moment that he meant the Major, and was breaking
+into an angry remonstrance, when I saw that he meant something quite
+different.  It was always his strongest point, this extraordinary
+consciousness of right, this unwavering belief that he had to do and
+therefore could do certain things.  Without this, I know that he
+never wrote a line, and in my heart I believe this was the cause of
+his success.
+
+"Then you are not writing at all?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, I write generally for a couple of hours before breakfast," he
+said.
+
+And that evening we sat by his gas stove and he read me the next
+four chapters of 'Lynwood.'  He had rather a dismal lodging-house
+bedroom, with faded wall-paper and a prosaic snuff-coloured carpet.
+On a rickety table in the window was his desk, and a portfolio full
+of blue foolscap, but he had done what he could to make the place
+habitable; his Oxford pictures were on the walls--Hoffman's 'Christ
+speaking to the Woman taken in Adultery,' hanging over the
+mantelpiece--it had always been a favourite of his.  I remember
+that, as he read the description of Lynwood and his wife, I kept
+looking from him to the Christ in the picture till I could almost
+have fancied that each face bore the same expression.  Had this
+strange monotonous life with that old brute of a Major brought him
+some new perception of those words, "Neither do I condemn thee"?
+But when he stopped reading, I, true to my character, forgot his
+affairs in my own, as we sat talking far into the night--talking of
+that luckless month at Mondisfield, of all the problems it had
+opened up, and of my wretchedness.
+
+"You were in town all September?" he asked; "you gave up
+Blachington?"
+
+"Yes," I replied.  "What did I care for country houses in such a
+mood as that."
+
+He acquiesced, and I went on talking of my grievances, and it was
+not till I was in the train on my way back to London that I
+remembered how a look of disappointment had passed over his face
+just at the moment.  Evidently he had counted on learning something
+about Freda from me, and I--well, I had clean forgotten both her
+existence and his passionate love.
+
+Something, probably self-interest, the desire for my friend's
+company, and so forth, took me down to Bath pretty frequently in
+those days; luckily the Major had a sort of liking for me, and was
+always polite enough; and dear old Derrick--well, I believe my
+visits really helped to brighten him up.  At any rate he said he
+couldn't have borne his life without them, and for a sceptical,
+dismal, cynical fellow like me to hear that was somehow flattering.
+The mere force of contrast did me good.  I used to come back on the
+Monday wondering that Derrick didn't cut his throat, and realising
+that, after all, it was something to be a free agent, and to have
+comfortable rooms in Montague Street, with no old bear of a drunkard
+to disturb my peace.  And then a sort of admiration sprang up in my
+heart, and the cynicism bred of melancholy broodings over solitary
+pipes was less rampant than usual.
+
+It was, I think, early in the new year that I met Lawrence Vaughan
+in Bath.  He was not staying at Gay Street, so I could still have
+the vacant room next to Derrick's.  Lawrence put up at the York
+House Hotel.
+
+"For you know," he informed me, "I really can't stand the governor
+for more than an hour or two at a time."
+
+"Derrick manages to do it," I said.
+
+"Oh, Derrick, yes," he replied, "it's his metier, and he is well
+accustomed to the life.  Besides, you know, he is such a dreamy,
+quiet sort of fellow; he lives all the time in a world of his own
+creation, and bears the discomforts of this world with great
+philosophy.  Actually he has turned teetotaller!  It would kill me
+in a week."
+
+I make a point of never arguing with a fellow like that, but I think
+I had a vindictive longing, as I looked at him, to shut him up with
+the Major for a month, and see what would happen.
+
+These twin brothers were curiously alike in face and curiously
+unlike in nature.  So much for the great science of physiognomy!  It
+often seemed to me that they were the complement of each other.  For
+instance, Derrick in society was extremely silent, Lawrence was a
+rattling talker; Derrick, when alone with you, would now and then
+reveal unsuspected depths of thought and expression; Lawrence, when
+alone with you, very frequently showed himself to be a cad.  The
+elder twin was modest and diffident, the younger inclined to brag;
+the one had a strong tendency to melancholy, the other was blest or
+cursed with the sort of temperament which has been said to accompany
+"a hard heart and a good digestion."
+
+I was not surprised to find that the son who could not tolerate the
+governor's presence for more than an hour or two, was a prime
+favourite with the old man; that was just the way of the world.  Of
+course, the Major was as polite as possible to him; Derrick got the
+kicks and Lawrence the half-pence.
+
+In the evenings we played whist, Lawrence coming in after dinner,
+"For, you know," he explained to me, "I really couldn't get through
+a meal with nothing but those infernal mineral waters to wash it
+down."
+
+And here I must own that at my first visit I had sailed rather close
+to the wind; for when the Major, like the Hatter in 'Alice,' pressed
+me to take wine, I--not seeing any--had answered that I did not take
+it; mentally adding the words, "in your house, you brute!"
+
+The two brothers were fond of each other after a fashion.  But
+Derrick was human, and had his faults like the rest of us; and I am
+pretty sure he did not much enjoy the sight of his father's foolish
+and unreasonable devotion to Lawrence.  If you come to think of it,
+he would have been a full-fledged angel if no jealous pang, no
+reflection that it was rather rough on him, had crossed his mind,
+when he saw his younger brother treated with every mark of respect
+and liking, and knew that Lawrence would never stir a finger really
+to help the poor fractious invalid.  Unluckily they happened one
+night to get on the subject of professions.
+
+"It's a comfort," said the Major, in his sarcastic way, "to have a
+fellow-soldier to talk to instead of a quill-driver, who as yet is
+not even a penny-a-liner.  Eh, Derrick?  Don't you feel inclined to
+regret your fool's choice now?  You might have been starting off for
+the war with Lawrence next week, if you hadn't chosen what you're
+pleased to call a literary life.  Literary life, indeed!  I little
+thought a son of mine would ever have been so wanting in spirit as
+to prefer dabbling in ink to a life of action--to be the scribbler
+of mere words, rather than an officer of dragoons."
+
+Then to my astonishment Derrick sprang to his feet in hot
+indignation.  I never saw him look so handsome, before or since; for
+his anger was not the distorting, devilish anger that the Major gave
+way to, but real downright wrath.
+
+"You speak contemptuously of mere novels," he said in a low voice,
+yet more clearly than usual, and as if the words were wrung out of
+him.  "What right have you to look down on one of the greatest
+weapons of the day? and why is a writer to submit to scoffs and
+insults and tamely to hear his profession reviled?  I have chosen to
+write the message that has been given me, and I don't regret the
+choice.  Should I have shown greater spirit if I had sold my freedom
+and right of judgment to be one of the national killing machines?"
+
+With that he threw down his cards and strode out of the room in a
+white heat of anger.  It was a pity he made that last remark, for it
+put him in the wrong and needlessly annoyed Lawrence and the Major.
+But an angry man has no time to weigh his words, and, as I said,
+poor old Derrick was very human, and when wounded too intolerably
+could on occasion retaliate.
+
+The Major uttered an oath and looked in astonishment at the
+retreating figure.  Derrick was such an extraordinarily quiet,
+respectful, long-suffering son as a rule, that this outburst was
+startling in the extreme.  Moreover, it spoilt the game, and the old
+man, chafed by the result of his own ill-nature, and helpless to
+bring back his partner, was forced to betake himself to chess.  I
+left him grumbling away to Lawrence about the vanity of authors, and
+went out in the hope of finding Derrick.  As I left the house I saw
+someone turn the corner into the Circus, and starting in pursuit,
+overtook the tall, dark figure where Bennett Street opens on to the
+Lansdowne Hill.
+
+"I'm glad you spoke up, old fellow," I said, taking his arm.
+
+He modified his pace a little.  "Why is it," he exclaimed, "that
+every other profession can be taken seriously, but that a novelist's
+work is supposed to be mere play?  Good God! don't we suffer enough?
+Have we not hard brain work and drudgery of desk work and tedious
+gathering of statistics and troublesome search into details?  Have
+we not an appalling weight of responsibility on us?--and are we not
+at the mercy of a thousand capricious chances?"
+
+"Come now," I exclaimed, "you know that you are never so happy as
+when you are writing."
+
+"Of course," he replied; "but that doesn't make me resent such an
+attack the less.  Besides, you don't know what it is to have to
+write in such an atmosphere as ours; it's like a weight on one's
+pen.  This life here is not life at all--it's a daily death, and
+it's killing the book too; the last chapters are wretched--I'm
+utterly dissatisfied with them."
+
+"As for that," I said calmly, "you are no judge at all.  You can
+never tell the worth of your own work; the last bit is splendid."
+
+"I could have done it better," he groaned.  "But there is always a
+ghastly depression dragging one back here--and then the time is so
+short; just as one gets into the swing of it the breakfast bell
+rings, and then comes--"  He broke off.
+
+I could well supply the end of the sentence, however, for I knew
+that then came the slow torture of a tete-a-tete day with the Major,
+stinging sarcasms, humiliating scoldings, vexations and difficulties
+innumerable.
+
+I drew him to the left, having no mind to go to the top of the hill.
+We slackened our pace again and walked to and fro along the broad
+level pavement of Lansdowne Crescent.  We had it entirely to
+ourselves--not another creature was in sight.
+
+"I could bear it all," he burst forth, "if only there was a chance
+of seeing Freda.  Oh, you are better off than I am--at least, you
+know the worst.  Your hope is killed, but mine lives on a tortured,
+starved life!  Would to God I had never seen her!"
+
+Certainly before that night I had never quite realised the
+irrevocableness of poor Derrick's passion.  I had half hoped that
+time and separation would gradually efface Freda Merrifield from his
+memory; and I listened with a dire foreboding to the flood of
+wretchedness which he poured forth as we paced up and down, thinking
+now and then how little people guessed at the tremendous powers
+hidden under his usually quiet exterior.
+
+At length he paused, but his last heart-broken words seemed to
+vibrate in the air and to force me to speak some kind of comfort.
+
+"Derrick," I said, "come back with me to London--give up this
+miserable life."
+
+I felt him start a little; evidently no thought of yielding had come
+to him before.  We were passing the house that used to belong to
+that strange book-lover and recluse, Beckford.  I looked up at the
+blank windows, and thought of that curious, self-centred life in the
+past, surrounded by every luxury, able to indulge every whim; and
+then I looked at my companion's pale, tortured face, and thought of
+the life he had elected to lead in the hope of saving one whom duty
+bound him to honour.  After all, which life was the most worth
+living--which was the most to be admired?
+
+We walked on; down below us and up on the farther hill we could see
+the lights of Bath; the place so beautiful by day looked now like a
+fairy city, and the Abbey, looming up against the moon-lit sky,
+seemed like some great giant keeping watch over the clustering roofs
+below.  The well-known chimes rang out into the night and the clock
+struck ten.
+
+"I must go back," said Derrick, quietly.  "My father will want to
+get to bed."
+
+I couldn't say a word; we turned, passed Beckford's house once more,
+walked briskly down the hill, and reached the Gay Street lodging-
+house.  I remember the stifling heat of the room as we entered it,
+and its contrast to the cool, dark, winter's night outside.  I can
+vividly recall, too, the old Major's face as he looked up with a
+sarcastic remark, but with a shade of anxiety in his bloodshot eyes.
+He was leaning back in a green-cushioned chair, and his ghastly
+yellow complexion seemed to me more noticeable than usual--his
+scanty grey hair and whiskers, the lines of pain so plainly visible
+in his face, impressed me curiously.  I think I had never before
+realised what a wreck of a man he was--how utterly dependent on
+others.
+
+Lawrence, who, to do him justice, had a good deal of tact, and who,
+I believe, cared for his brother as much as he was capable of caring
+for any one but himself, repeated a good story with which he had
+been enlivening the Major, and I did what I could to keep up the
+talk.  Derrick meanwhile put away the chessmen, and lighted the
+Major's candle.  He even managed to force up a laugh at Lawrence's
+story, and, as he helped his father out of the room, I think I was
+the only one who noticed the look of tired endurance in his eyes.
+
+
+
+Chapter V.
+
+                                     "I know
+      How far high failure overtops the bounds
+      Of low successes.  Only suffering draws
+      The inner heart of song, and can elicit
+      The perfumes of the soul."
+                                Epic of Hades.
+
+Next week, Lawrence went off like a hero to the war; and my friend--
+also I think like a hero--stayed on at Bath, enduring as best he
+could the worst form of loneliness; for undoubtedly there is no
+loneliness so frightful as constant companionship with an
+uncongenial person.  He had, however, one consolation:  the Major's
+health steadily improved, under the joint influence of total
+abstinence and Bath water, and, with the improvement, his temper
+became a little better.
+
+But one Saturday, when I had run down to Bath without writing
+beforehand, I suddenly found a different state of things.  In Orange
+Grove I met Dr. Mackrill, the Major's medical man; he used now and
+then to play whist with us on Saturday nights, and I stopped to
+speak to him.
+
+"Oh! you've come down again.  That's all right!" he said.  "Your
+friend wants someone to cheer him up.  He's got his arm broken."
+
+"How on earth did he manage that?" I asked.
+
+"Well, that's more than I can tell you," said the Doctor, with an
+odd look in his eyes, as if he guessed more than he would put into
+words.  "All that I could get out of him was that it was done
+accidentally.  The Major is not so well--no whist for us to-night,
+I'm afraid."
+
+He passed on, and I made my way to Gay Street.  There was an air of
+mystery about the quaint old landlady; she looked brimful of news
+when she opened the door to me, but she managed to 'keep herself to
+herself,' and showed me in upon the Major and Derrick, rather
+triumphantly I thought.  The Major looked terribly ill--worse than I
+had ever seen him, and as for Derrick, he had the strangest look of
+shrinking and shame-facedness you ever saw.  He said he was glad to
+see me, but I knew that he lied.  He would have given anything to
+have kept me away.
+
+"Broken your arm?" I exclaimed, feeling bound to take some notice of
+the sling.
+
+"Yes," he replied; "met with an accident to it.  But luckily it's
+only the left one, so it doesn't hinder me much!  I have finished
+seven chapters of the last volume of 'Lynwood,' and was just wanting
+to ask you a legal question."
+
+All this time his eyes bore my scrutiny defiantly; they seemed to
+dare me to say one other word about the broken arm.  I didn't dare--
+indeed to this day I have never mentioned the subject to him.
+
+But that evening, while he was helping the Major to bed, the old
+landlady made some pretext for toiling up to the top of the house,
+where I sat smoking in Derrick's room.
+
+"You'll excuse my making bold to speak to you, sir," she said.  I
+threw down my newspaper, and, looking up, saw that she was bubbling
+over with some story.
+
+"Well?" I said, encouragingly.
+
+"It's about Mr. Vaughan, sir, I wanted to speak to you.  I really do
+think, sir, it's not safe he should be left alone with his father,
+sir, any longer.  Such doings as we had here the other day, sir!
+Somehow or other--and none of us can't think how--the Major had
+managed to get hold of a bottle of brandy.  How he had it I don't
+know; but we none of us suspected him, and in the afternoon he says
+he was too poorly to go for a drive or to go out in his chair, and
+settles off on the parlour sofa for a nap while Mr. Vaughan goes out
+for a walk.  Mr. Vaughan was out a couple of hours.  I heard him
+come in and go into the sitting-room; then there came sounds of
+voices, and a scuffling of feet and moving of chairs, and I knew
+something was wrong and hurried up to the door--and just then came a
+crash like fire-irons, and I could hear the Major a-swearing
+fearful.  Not hearing a sound from Mr. Vaughan, I got scared, sir,
+and opened the door, and there I saw the Major a leaning up against
+the mantelpiece as drunk as a lord, and his son seemed to have got
+the bottle from him; it was half empty, and when he saw me he just
+handed it to me and ordered me to take it away.  Then between us we
+got the Major to lie down on the sofa and left him there.  When we
+got out into the passage Mr. Vaughan he leant against the wall for a
+minute, looking as white as a sheet, and then I noticed for the
+first time that his left arm was hanging down at his side.  'Lord!
+sir,' I cried, 'your arm's broken.'  And he went all at once as red
+as he had been pale just before, and said he had got it done
+accidentally, and bade me say nothing about it, and walked off there
+and then to the doctor's, and had it set.  But sir, given a man
+drunk as the Major was, and given a scuffle to get away the drink
+that was poisoning him, and given a crash such as I heard, and given
+a poker a-lying in the middle of the room where it stands to reason
+no poker could get unless it was thrown--why, sir, no sensible woman
+who can put two and two together can doubt that it was all the
+Major's doing."
+
+"Yes," I said, "that is clear enough; but for Mr. Vaughan's sake we
+must hush it up; and, as for safety, why, the Major is hardly strong
+enough to do him any worse damage than that."
+
+The good old thing wiped away a tear from her eyes.  She was very
+fond of Derrick, and it went to her heart that he should lead such a
+dog's life.
+
+I said what I could to comfort her, and she went down again, fearful
+lest he should discover her upstairs and guess that she had opened
+her heart to me.
+
+Poor Derrick!  That he of all people on earth should be mixed up
+with such a police court story--with drunkard, and violence, and
+pokers figuring in it!  I lay back in the camp chair and looked at
+Hoffman's 'Christ,' and thought of all the extraordinary problems
+that one is for ever coming across in life.  And I wondered whether
+the people of Bath who saw the tall, impassive-looking, hazel-eyed
+son and the invalid father in their daily pilgrimages to the Pump
+Room, or in church on Sunday, or in the Park on sunny afternoons had
+the least notion of the tragedy that was going on.  My reflections
+were interrupted by his entrance.  He had forced up a cheerfulness
+that I am sure he didn't really feel, and seemed afraid of letting
+our talk flag for a moment.  I remember, too, that for the first
+time he offered to read me his novel, instead of as usual waiting
+for me to ask to hear it.  I can see him now, fetching the untidy
+portfolio and turning over the pages, adroitly enough, as though
+anxious to show how immaterial was the loss of a left arm.  That
+night I listened to the first half of the third volume of 'Lynwood's
+Heritage,' and couldn't help reflecting that its author seemed to
+thrive on misery; and yet how I grudged him to this deadly-lively
+place, and this monotonous, cooped-up life.
+
+"How do you manage to write one-handed?" I asked.
+
+And he sat down to his desk, put a letter-weight on the left-hand
+corner of the sheet of foolscap, and wrote that comical first
+paragraph of the eighth chapter over which we have all laughed.  I
+suppose few readers guessed the author's state of mind when he wrote
+it.  I looked over his shoulder to see what he had written, and
+couldn't help laughing aloud--I verily believe that it was his way
+of turning off attention from his arm, and leading me safely from
+the region of awkward questions.
+
+"By-the-by," I exclaimed, "your writing of garden-parties reminds
+me.  I went to one at Campden Hill the other day, and had the good
+fortune to meet Miss Freda Merrifield."
+
+How his face lighted up, poor fellow, and what a flood of questions
+he poured out.  "She looked very well and very pretty," I replied.
+"I played two sets of tennis with her.  She asked after you directly
+she saw me, seeming to think that we always hunted in couples.  I
+told her you were living here, taking care of an invalid father; but
+just then up came the others to arrange the game.  She and I got the
+best courts, and as we crossed over to them she told me she had met
+your brother several times last autumn, when she had been staying
+near Aldershot.  Odd that he never mentioned her here; but I don't
+suppose she made much impression on him.  She is not at all his
+style."
+
+"Did you have much more talk with her?" he asked.
+
+"No, nothing to be called talk.  She told me they were leaving
+London next week, and she was longing to get back to the country to
+her beloved animals--rabbits, poultry, an aviary, and all that kind
+of thing.  I should gather that they had kept her rather in the
+background this season, but I understand that the eldest sister is
+to be married in the winter, and then no doubt Miss Freda will be
+brought forward."
+
+He seemed wonderfully cheered by this opportune meeting, and though
+there was so little to tell he appeared to be quite content.  I left
+him on Monday in fairly good spirits, and did not come across him
+again till September, when his arm was well, and his novel finished
+and revised.  He never made two copies of his work, and I fancy this
+was perhaps because he spent so short a time each day in actual
+writing, and lived so continually in his work; moreover, as I said
+before, he detested penmanship.
+
+The last part of 'Lynwood' far exceeded my expectations; perhaps--
+yet I don't really think so--I viewed it too favourably.  But I owed
+the book a debt of gratitude, since it certainly helped me through
+the worst part of my life.
+
+"Don't you feel flat now it is finished?" I asked.
+
+"I felt so miserable that I had to plunge into another story three
+days after," he replied; and then and there he gave me the sketch of
+his second novel, 'At Strife,' and told me how he meant to weave in
+his childish fancies about the defence of the bridge in the Civil
+Wars.
+
+"And about 'Lynwood?'  Are you coming up to town to hawk him round?"
+I asked.
+
+"I can't do that," he said; "you see I am tied here.  No, I must
+send him off by rail, and let him take his chance."
+
+"No such thing!" I cried.  "If you can't leave Bath I will take him
+round for you."
+
+And Derrick, who with the oddest inconsistency would let his MS. lie
+about anyhow at home, but hated the thought of sending it out alone
+on its travels, gladly accepted my offer.  So next week I set off
+with the huge brown paper parcel; few, however, will appreciate my
+good nature, for no one but an author or a publisher knows the
+fearful weight of a three volume novel in MS.!  To my intense
+satisfaction I soon got rid of it, for the first good firm to which
+I took it received it with great politeness, to be handed over to
+their 'reader' for an opinion; and apparently the 'reader's' opinion
+coincided with mine, for a month later Derrick received an offer for
+it with which he at once closed--not because it was a good one, but
+because the firm was well thought of, and because he wished to lose
+no time, but to have the book published at once.  I happened to be
+there when his first 'proofs' arrived.  The Major had had an attack
+of jaundice, and was in a fiendish humour.  We had a miserable time
+of it at dinner, for he badgered Derrick almost past bearing, and I
+think the poor old fellow minded it more when there was a third
+person present.  Somehow through all he managed to keep his
+extraordinary capacity for reverencing mere age--even this degraded
+and detestable old age of the Major's.  I often thought that in this
+he was like my own ancestor, Hugo Wharncliffe, whose deference and
+respectfulness and patience had not descended to me, while
+unfortunately the effects of his physical infirmities had.  I
+sometimes used to reflect bitterly enough on the truth of Herbert
+Spencer's teaching as to heredity, so clearly shown in my own case.
+In the year 1683, through the abominable cruelty and harshness of
+his brother Randolph, this Hugo Wharncliffe, my great-great-great-
+great-great grandfather, was immured in Newgate, and his
+constitution was thereby so much impaired and enfeebled that, two
+hundred years after, my constitution is paying the penalty, and my
+whole life is thereby changed and thwarted.  Hence this childless
+Randolph is affecting the course of several lives in the 19th
+century to their grievous hurt.
+
+But revenons a nos moutons--that is to say, to our lion and lamb--
+the old brute of a Major and his long-suffering son.
+
+While the table was being cleared, the Major took forty winks on the
+sofa, and we two beat a retreat, lit up our pipes in the passage,
+and were just turning out when the postman's double knock came, but
+no showers of letters in the box.  Derrick threw open the door, and
+the man handed him a fat, stumpy-looking roll in a pink wrapper.
+
+"I say!" he exclaimed, "PROOFS!"
+
+And, in hot haste, he began tearing away the pink paper, till out
+came the clean, folded bits of printing and the dirty and
+dishevelled blue foolscap, the look of which I knew so well.  It is
+an odd feeling, that first seeing one's self in print, and I could
+guess, even then, what a thrill shot through Derrick as he turned
+over the pages.  But he would not take them into the sitting-room,
+no doubt dreading another diatribe against his profession; and we
+solemnly played euchre, and patiently endured the Major's withering
+sarcasms till ten o'clock sounded our happy release.
+
+However, to make a long story short, a month later--that is, at the
+end of November--'Lynwood's Heritage' was published in three volumes
+with maroon cloth and gilt lettering.  Derrick had distributed among
+his friends the publishers' announcement of the day of publication;
+and when it was out I besieged the libraries for it, always
+expressing surprise if I did not find it in their lists.  Then began
+the time of reviews.  As I had expected, they were extremely
+favourable, with the exception of the Herald, the Stroller, and the
+Hour, which made it rather hot for him, the latter in particular
+pitching into his views and assuring its readers that the book was
+'dangerous,' and its author a believer in--various thing especially
+repugnant to Derrick, at it happened.
+
+I was with him when he read these reviews.  Over the cleverness of
+the satirical attack in the Weekly Herald he laughed heartily,
+though the laugh was against himself; and as to the critic who wrote
+in the Stroller it was apparent to all who knew 'Lynwood' that he
+had not read much of the book; but over this review in the Hour he
+was genuinely angry--it hurt him personally, and, as it afterwards
+turned out, played no small part in the story of his life.  The good
+reviews, however, were many, and their recommendation of the book
+hearty; they all prophesied that it would be a great success.  Yet,
+spite of this, 'Lynwood's Heritage' didn't sell.  Was it, as I had
+feared, that Derrick was too devoid of the pushing faculty ever to
+make a successful writer?  Or was it that he was handicapped by
+being down in the provinces playing keeper to that abominable old
+bear?  Anyhow, the book was well received, read with enthusiasm by
+an extremely small circle, and then it dropped down to the bottom
+among the mass of overlooked literature, and its career seemed to be
+over.  I can recall the look in Derrick's face when one day he
+glanced through the new Mudie and Smith lists and found 'Lynwood's
+Heritage' no longer down.  I had been trying to cheer him up about
+the book and quoting all the favourable remarks I had heard about
+it.  But unluckily this was damning evidence against my optimist
+view.
+
+He sighed heavily and put down the lists.
+
+"It's no use to deceive one's self," he said, drearily, "'Lynwood'
+has failed."
+
+Something in the deep depression of look and tone gave me a
+momentary insight into the author's heart.  He thought, I know, of
+the agony of mind this book had cost him; of those long months of
+waiting and their deadly struggle, of the hopes which had made all
+he passed through seem so well worth while; and the bitterness of
+the disappointment was no doubt intensified by the knowledge that
+the Major would rejoice over it.
+
+We walked that afternoon along the Bradford Valley, a road which
+Derrick was specially fond of.  He loved the thickly-wooded hills,
+and the glimpses of the Avon, which, flanked by the canal and the
+railway, runs parallel with the high road; he always admired, too, a
+certain little village with grey stone cottages which lay in this
+direction, and liked to look at the site of the old hall near the
+road:  nothing remained of it but the tall gate posts and rusty iron
+gates looking strangely dreary and deserted, and within one could
+see, between some dark yew trees, an old terrace walk with stone
+steps and balustrades--the most ghostly-looking place you can
+conceive.
+
+"I know you'll put this into a book some day," I said, laughing.
+
+"Yes," he said, "it is already beginning to simmer in my brain."
+Apparently his deep disappointment as to his first venture had in no
+way affected his perfectly clear consciousness that, come what
+would, he had to write.
+
+As we walked back to Bath he told me his 'Ruined Hall' story as far
+as it had yet evolved itself in his brain, and we were still
+discussing it when in Milsom Street we met a boy crying evening
+papers, and details of the last great battle at Saspataras Hill.
+
+Derrick broke off hastily, everything but anxiety for Lawrence
+driven from his mind.
+
+
+
+Chapter VI.
+
+     "Say not, O Soul, thou art defeated,
+        Because thou art distressed;
+      If thou of better thing art cheated,
+        Thou canst not be of best."
+                              T. T. Lynch.
+
+"Good heavens, Sydney!" he exclaimed in great excitement and with
+his whole face aglow with pleasure, "look here!"
+
+He pointed to a few lines in the paper which mentioned the heroic
+conduct of Lieutenant L. Vaughan, who at the risk of his life had
+rescued a brother officer when surrounded by the enemy and
+completely disabled.  Lieutenant Vaughan had managed to mount the
+wounded man on his own horse and had miraculously escaped himself
+with nothing worse than a sword-thrust in the left arm.
+
+We went home in triumph to the Major, and Derrick read the whole
+account aloud.  With all his detestation of war, he was nevertheless
+greatly stirred by the description of the gallant defence of the
+attacked position--and for a time we were all at one, and could talk
+of nothing but Lawrence's heroism, and Victoria Crosses, and the
+prospects of peace.  However, all too soon, the Major's fiendish
+temper returned, and he began to use the event of the day as a
+weapon against Derrick, continually taunting him with the contrast
+between his stay-at-home life of scribbling and Lawrence's life of
+heroic adventure.  I could never make out whether he wanted to goad
+his son into leaving him, in order that he might drink himself to
+death in peace, or whether he merely indulged in his natural love of
+tormenting, valuing Derrick's devotion as conducive to his own
+comfort, and knowing that hard words would not drive him from what
+he deemed to be his duty.  I rather incline to the latter view, but
+the old Major was always an enigma to me; nor can I to this day make
+out his raison-d'etre, except on the theory that the training of a
+novelist required a course of slow torture, and that the old man was
+sent into the world to be a sort of thorn in the flesh of Derrick.
+
+What with the disappointment about his first book, and the
+difficulty of writing his second, the fierce craving for Freda's
+presence, the struggle not to allow his admiration for Lawrence's
+bravery to become poisoned by envy under the influence of the
+Major's incessant attacks, Derrick had just then a hard time of it.
+He never complained, but I noticed a great change in him; his
+melancholy increased, his flashes of humour and merriment became
+fewer and fewer--I began to be afraid that he would break down.
+
+"For God's sake!" I exclaimed one evening when left alone with the
+Doctor after an evening of whist, "do order the Major to London.
+Derrick has been mewed up here with him for nearly two years, and I
+don't think he can stand it much longer."
+
+So the Doctor kindly contrived to advise the Major to consult a
+well-known London physician, and to spend a fortnight in town,
+further suggesting that a month at Ben Rhydding might be enjoyable
+before settling down at Bath again for the winter.  Luckily the
+Major took to the idea, and just as Lawrence returned from the war
+Derrick and his father arrived in town.  The change seemed likely to
+work well, and I was able now and then to release my friend and play
+cribbage with the old man for an hour or two while Derrick tore
+about London, interviewed his publisher, made researches into
+seventeenth century documents at the British Museum, and somehow
+managed in his rapid way to acquire those glimpses of life and
+character which he afterwards turned to such good account.  All was
+grist that came to his mill, and at first the mere sight of his old
+home, London, seemed to revive him.  Of course at the very first
+opportunity he called at the Probyns', and we both of us had an
+invitation to go there on the following Wednesday to see the march
+past of the troops and to lunch.  Derrick was nearly beside himself
+at the prospect, for he knew that he should certainly meet Freda at
+last, and the mingled pain and bliss of being actually in the same
+place with her, yet as completely separated as if seas rolled
+between them, was beginning to try him terribly.
+
+Meantime Lawrence had turned up again, greatly improved in every way
+by all that he had lived through, but rather too ready to fall in
+with his father's tone towards Derrick.  The relations between the
+two brothers--always a little peculiar--became more and more
+difficult, and the Major seemed to enjoy pitting them against each
+other.
+
+At length the day of the review arrived.  Derrick was not looking
+well, his eyes were heavy with sleeplessness, and the Major had been
+unusually exasperating at breakfast that morning, so that he started
+with a jaded, worn-out feeling that would not wholly yield even to
+the excitement of this long-expected meeting with Freda.  When he
+found himself in the great drawing-room at Lord Probyn's house, amid
+a buzz of talk and a crowd of strange faces, he was seized with one
+of those sudden attacks of shyness to which he was always liable.
+In fact, he had been so long alone with the old Major that this
+plunge into society was too great a reaction, and the very thing he
+had longed for became a torture to him.
+
+Freda was at the other end of the room talking to Keith Collins, the
+well-known member for Codrington, whose curious but attractive face
+was known to all the world through the caricatures of it in 'Punch.'
+I knew that she saw Derrick, and that he instantly perceived her,
+and that a miserable sense of separation, of distance, of
+hopelessness overwhelmed him as he looked.  After all, it was
+natural enough.  For two years he had thought of Freda night and
+day; in his unutterably dreary life her memory had been his
+refreshment, his solace, his companion.  Now he was suddenly brought
+face to face, not with the Freda of his dreams, but with a
+fashionable, beautifully dressed, much-sought girl, and he felt that
+a gulf lay between them; it was the gulf of experience.  Freda's
+life in society, the whirl of gaiety, the excitement and success
+which she had been enjoying throughout the season, and his miserable
+monotony of companionship with his invalid father, of hard work and
+weary disappointment, had broken down the bond of union that had
+once existed between them.  From either side they looked at each
+other--Freda with a wondering perplexity, Derrick with a dull
+grinding pain at his heart.
+
+Of course they spoke to each other; but I fancy the merest
+platitudes passed between them.  Somehow they had lost touch, and a
+crowded London drawing-room was hardly the place to regain it.
+
+"So your novel is really out," I heard her say to him in that deep,
+clear voice of hers.  "I like the design on the cover."
+
+"Oh, have you read the book?" said Derrick, colouring.
+
+"Well, no," she said truthfully.  "I wanted to read it, but my
+father wouldn't let me--he is very particular about what we read."
+
+That frank but not very happily worded answer was like a stab to
+poor Derrick.  He had given to the world then a book that was not
+fit for her to read!  This 'Lynwood,' which had been written with
+his own heart's blood, was counted a dangerous, poisonous thing,
+from which she must be guarded!
+
+Freda must have seen that she had hurt him, for she tried hard to
+retrieve her words.
+
+"It was tantalising to have it actually in the house, wasn't it?  I
+have a grudge against the Hour, for it was the review in that which
+set my father against it."  Then rather anxious to leave the
+difficult subject--"And has your brother quite recovered from his
+wound?"
+
+I think she was a little vexed that Derrick did not show more
+animation in his replies about Lawrence's adventures during the war;
+the less he responded the more enthusiastic she became, and I am
+perfectly sure that in her heart she was thinking:
+
+"He is jealous of his brother's fame--I am disappointed in him.  He
+has grown dull, and absent, and stupid, and he is dreadfully wanting
+in small-talk.  I fear that his life down in the provinces is
+turning him into a bear."
+
+She brought the conversation back to his book; but there was a
+little touch of scorn in her voice, as if she thought to herself, "I
+suppose he is one of those people who can only talk on one subject--
+his own doings."  Her manner was almost brusque.
+
+"Your novel has had a great success, has it not?" she asked.
+
+He instantly perceived her thought, and replied with a touch of
+dignity and a proud smile:
+
+"On the contrary, it has been a great failure; only three hundred
+and nine copies have been sold."
+
+"I wonder at that," said Freda, "for one so often heard it talked
+of."
+
+He promptly changed the topic, and began to speak of the march past.
+"I want to see Lord Starcross," he added.  "I have no idea what a
+hero is like."
+
+Just then Lady Probyn came up, followed by an elderly harpy in
+spectacles and false, much-frizzed fringe.
+
+"Mrs. Carsteen wishes to be introduced to you, Mr. Vaughan; she is a
+great admirer of your writings."
+
+And poor Derrick, who was then quite unused to the species, had to
+stand and receive a flood of the most fulsome flattery, delivered in
+a strident voice, and to bear the critical and prolonged stare of
+the spectacled eyes.  Nor would the harpy easily release her prey.
+She kept him much against his will, and I saw him looking wistfully
+now and then towards Freda.
+
+"It amuses me," I said to her, "that Derrick Vaughan should be so
+anxious to see Lord Starcross.  It reminds me of Charles Lamb's
+anxiety to see Kosciusko, 'for,' said he, 'I have never seen a hero;
+I wonder how they look,' while all the time he himself was living a
+life of heroic self-sacrifice."
+
+"Mr. Vaughan, I should think, need only look at his own brother,"
+said Freda, missing the drift of my speech.
+
+I longed to tell her what it was possible to tell of Derrick's life,
+but at that moment Sir Richard Merrifield introduced to his daughter
+a girl in a huge hat and great flopping sleeves, Miss Isaacson,
+whose picture at the Grosvenor had been so much talked of.  Now the
+little artist knew no one in the room, and Freda saw fit to be
+extremely friendly to her.  She was introduced to me, and I did my
+best to talk to her and set Freda at liberty as soon as the harpy
+had released Derrick; but my endeavours were frustrated, for Miss
+Isaacson, having looked me well over, decided that I was not at all
+intense, but a mere commonplace, slightly cynical worldling, and
+having exchanged a few lukewarm remarks with me, she returned to
+Freda, and stuck to her like a bur for the rest of the time.
+
+We stood out on the balcony to see the troops go by.  It was a fine
+sight, and we all became highly enthusiastic.  Freda enjoyed the
+mere pageant like a child, and was delighted with the horses.  She
+looked now more like the Freda of the yacht, and I wished that
+Derrick could be near her; but, as ill-luck would have it, he was at
+some distance, hemmed in by an impassable barrier of eager
+spectators.
+
+Lawrence Vaughan rode past, looking wonderfully well in his uniform.
+He was riding a spirited bay, which took Freda's fancy amazingly,
+though she reserved her chief enthusiasm for Lord Starcross and his
+steed.  It was not until all was over, and we had returned to the
+drawing-room, that Derrick managed to get the talk with Freda for
+which I knew he was longing, and then they were fated, apparently,
+to disagree.  I was standing near and overheard the close of their
+talk.
+
+"I do believe you must be a member of the Peace Society!" said Freda
+impatiently.  "Or perhaps you have turned Quaker.  But I want to
+introduce you to my god-father, Mr. Fleming; you know it was his son
+whom your brother saved."
+
+And I heard Derrick being introduced as the brother of the hero of
+Saspataras Hill; and the next day he received a card for one of Mrs.
+Fleming's receptions, Lawrence having previously been invited to
+dine there on the same night.
+
+What happened at that party I never exactly understood.  All I could
+gather was that Lawrence had been tremendously feted, that Freda had
+been present, and that poor old Derrick was as miserable as he could
+be when I next saw him.  Putting two and two together, I guessed
+that he had been tantalised by a mere sight of her, possibly
+tortured by watching more favoured men enjoying long tete-a-tetes;
+but he would say little or nothing about it, and when, soon after,
+he and the Major left London, I feared that the fortnight had done
+my friend harm instead of good.
+
+
+
+Chapter VII.
+
+     "Then in that hour rejoice, since only thus
+      Can thy proud heart grow wholly piteous.
+      Thus only to the world thy speech can flow
+      Charged with the sad authority of woe.
+      Since no man nurtured in the shade can sing
+      To a true note one psalm of conquering;
+      Warriors must chant it whom our own eyes see
+      Red from the battle and more bruised than we,
+      Men who have borne the worst, have known the whole,
+      Have felt the last abeyance of the soul."
+                                     F. W. H. Myers.
+
+About the beginning of August, I rejoined him at Ben Rhydding.  The
+place suited the Major admirably, and his various baths took up so
+great a part of each day, that Derrick had more time to himself than
+usual, and 'At Strife' got on rapidly.  He much enjoyed, too, the
+beautiful country round, while the hotel itself, with its huge
+gathering of all sorts and conditions of people, afforded him
+endless studies of character.  The Major breakfasted in his own
+room, and, being so much engrossed with his baths, did not generally
+appear till twelve.  Derrick and I breakfasted in the great dining-
+hall; and one morning, when the meal was over, we, as usual,
+strolled into the drawing-room to see if there were any letters
+awaiting us.
+
+"One for you," I remarked, handing him a thick envelope.
+
+"From Lawrence!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Well, don't read it in here; the Doctor will be coming to read
+prayers.  Come out in the garden," I said.
+
+We went out into the beautiful grounds, and he tore open the
+envelope and began to read his letter as we walked.  All at once I
+felt the arm which was linked in mine give a quick, involuntary
+movement, and, looking up, saw that Derrick had turned deadly pale.
+
+"What's up?" I said.  But he read on without replying; and, when I
+paused and sat down on a sheltered rustic seat, he unconsciously
+followed my example, looking more like a sleep-walker than a man in
+the possession of all his faculties.  At last he finished the
+letter, and looked up in a dazed, miserable way, letting his eyes
+wander over the fir-trees and the fragrant shrubs and the flowers by
+the path.
+
+"Dear old fellow, what is the matter?" I asked.
+
+The words seemed to rouse him.
+
+A dreadful look passed over his face--the look of one stricken to
+the heart.  But his voice was perfectly calm, and full of a ghastly
+self-control.
+
+"Freda will be my sister-in-law," he said, rather as if stating the
+fact to himself than answering my question.
+
+"Impossible!" I said.  "What do you mean?  How could--"
+
+As if to silence me he thrust the letter into my hand.  It ran as
+follows:
+
+"Dear Derrick,--For the last few days I have been down in the
+Flemings' place in Derbyshire, and fortune has favoured me, for the
+Merrifields are here too.  Now prepare yourself for a surprise.
+Break the news to the governor, and send me your heartiest
+congratulations by return of post.  I am engaged to Freda
+Merrifield, and am the happiest fellow in the world.  They are
+awfully fastidious sort of people, and I do not believe Sir Richard
+would have consented to such a match had it not been for that lucky
+impulse which made me rescue Dick Fleming.  It has all been arranged
+very quickly, as these things should be, but we have seen a good
+deal of each other--first at Aldershot the year before last, and
+just lately in town, and now these four days down here--and days in
+a country house are equal to weeks elsewhere.  I enclose a letter to
+my father--give it to him at a suitable moment--but, after all, he's
+sure to approve of a daughter-in-law with such a dowry as Miss
+Merrifield is likely to have.
+     "Yours affly.,
+          "Lawrence Vaughan."
+
+I gave him back the letter without a word.  In dead silence we moved
+on, took a turning which led to a little narrow gate, and passed out
+of the grounds to the wild moorland country beyond.
+
+After all, Freda was in no way to blame.  As a mere girl she had
+allowed Derrick to see that she cared for him; then circumstances
+had entirely separated them; she saw more of the world, met
+Lawrence, was perhaps first attracted to him by his very likeness to
+Derrick, and finally fell in love with the hero of the season, whom
+every one delighted to honour.  Nor could one blame Lawrence, who
+had no notion that he had supplanted his brother.  All the blame lay
+with the Major's slavery to drink, for if only he had remained out
+in India I feel sure that matters would have gone quite differently.
+
+We tramped on over heather and ling and springy turf till we reached
+the old ruin known as the Hunting Tower; then Derrick seemed to
+awake to the recollection of present things.  He looked at his
+watch.
+
+"I must go back to my father," he said, for the first time breaking
+the silence.
+
+"You shall do no such thing!" I cried.  "Stay out here and I will
+see to the Major, and give him the letter too if you like."
+
+He caught at the suggestion, and as he thanked me I think there were
+tears in his eyes.  So I took the letter and set off for Ben
+Rhydding, leaving him to get what relief he could from solitude,
+space, and absolute quiet.  Once I just glanced back, and somehow
+the scene has always lingered in my memory--the great stretch of
+desolate moor, the dull crimson of the heather, the lowering grey
+clouds, the Hunting Tower a patch of deeper gloom against the gloomy
+sky, and Derrick's figure prostrate, on the turf, the face hidden,
+the hands grasping at the sprigs of heather growing near.
+
+The Major was just ready to be helped into the garden when I reached
+the hotel.  We sat down in the very same place where Derrick had
+read the news, and, when I judged it politic, I suddenly remembered
+with apologies the letter that had been entrusted to me.  The old
+man received it with satisfaction, for he was fond of Lawrence and
+proud of him, and the news of the engagement pleased him greatly.
+He was still discussing it when, two hours later, Derrick returned.
+
+"Here's good news!" said the Major, glancing up as his son
+approached.  "Trust Lawrence to fall on his feet!  He tells me the
+girl will have a thousand a year.  You know her, don't you?  What's
+she like?"
+
+"I have met her," replied Derrick, with forced composure.  "She is
+very charming."
+
+"Lawrence has all his wits about him," growled the Major.  "Whereas
+you--" (several oaths interjected).  "It will be a long while before
+any girl with a dowry will look at you!  What women like is a bold
+man of action; what they despise, mere dabblers in pen and ink,
+writers of poisonous sensational tales such as yours!  I'm quoting
+your own reviewers, so you needn't contradict me!"
+
+Of course no one had dreamt of contradicting; it would have been the
+worst possible policy.
+
+"Shall I help you in?" said Derrick.  "It is just dinner time."
+
+And as I walked beside them to the hotel, listening to the Major's
+flood of irritating words, and glancing now and then at Derrick's
+grave, resolute face, which successfully masked such bitter
+suffering, I couldn't help reflecting that here was courage
+infinitely more deserving of the Victoria Cross than Lawrence's
+impulsive rescue.  Very patiently he sat through the long dinner.  I
+doubt if any but an acute observer could have told that he was in
+trouble; and, luckily, the world in general observes hardly at all.
+He endured the Major till it was time for him to take a Turkish
+bath, and then having two hours' freedom, climbed with me up the
+rock-covered hill at the back of the hotel.  He was very silent.
+But I remember that, as we watched the sun go down--a glowing
+crimson ball, half veiled in grey mist--he said abruptly, "If
+Lawrence makes her happy I can bear it.  And of course I always knew
+that I was not worthy of her."
+
+Derrick's room was a large, gaunt, ghostly place in one of the
+towers of the hotel, and in one corner of it was a winding stair
+leading to the roof.  When I went in next morning I found him
+writing away at his novel just as usual, but when I looked at him it
+seemed to me that the night had aged him fearfully.  As a rule, he
+took interruptions as a matter of course, and with perfect sweetness
+of temper; but to-day he seemed unable to drag himself back to the
+outer world.  He was writing at a desperate pace too, and frowned
+when I spoke to him.  I took up the sheet of foolscap which he had
+just finished and glanced at the number of the page--evidently he
+had written an immense quantity since the previous day.
+
+"You will knock yourself up if you go on at this rate!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Nonsense!" he said sharply.  "You know it never tires me."
+
+Yet, all the same, he passed his hand very wearily over his
+forehead, and stretched himself with the air of one who had been in
+a cramping position for many hours.
+
+"You have broken your vow!" I cried.  "You have been writing at
+night."
+
+"No," he said; "it was morning when I began--three o'clock.  And it
+pays better to get up and write than to lie awake thinking."
+
+Judging by the speed with which the novel grew in the next few
+weeks, I could tell that Derrick's nights were of the worst.
+
+He began, too, to look very thin and haggard, and I more than once
+noticed that curious 'sleep-walking' expression in his eyes; he
+seemed to me just like a man who has received his death-blow, yet
+still lingers--half alive, half dead.  I had an odd feeling that it
+was his novel which kept him going, and I began to wonder what would
+happen when it was finished.
+
+A month later, when I met him again at Bath, he had written the last
+chapter of 'At Strife,' and we read it over the sitting-room fire on
+Saturday evening.  I was very much struck with the book; it seemed
+to me a great advance on 'Lynwood's Heritage,' and the part which he
+had written since that day at Ben Rhydding was full of an
+indescribable power, as if the life of which he had been robbed had
+flowed into his work.  When he had done, he tied up the MS. in his
+usual prosaic fashion, just as if it had been a bundle of clothes,
+and put it on a side table.
+
+It was arranged that I should take it to Davison--the publisher of
+'Lynwood's Heritage'--on Monday, and see what offer he would make
+for it.  Just at that time I felt so sorry for Derrick that if he
+had asked me to hawk round fifty novels I would have done it.
+
+Sunday morning proved wet and dismal; as a rule the Major, who was
+fond of music, attended service at the Abbey, but the weather forced
+him now to stay at home.  I myself was at that time no church-goer,
+but Derrick would, I verily believe, as soon have fasted a week as
+have given up a Sunday morning service; and having no mind to be
+left to the Major's company, and a sort of wish to be near my
+friend, I went with him.  I believe it is not correct to admire Bath
+Abbey, but for all that 'the lantern of the west' has always seemed
+to me a grand place; as for Derrick, he had a horror of a 'dim
+religious light,' and always stuck up for his huge windows, and I
+believe he loved the Abbey with all his heart.  Indeed, taking it
+only from a sensuous point of view, I could quite imagine what a
+relief he found his weekly attendance here; by contrast with his
+home the place was Heaven itself.
+
+As we walked back, I asked a question that had long been in my mind:
+"Have you seen anything of Lawrence?"
+
+"He saw us across London on our way from Ben Rhydding," said
+Derrick, steadily.  "Freda came with him, and my father was
+delighted with her."
+
+I wondered how they had got through the meeting, but of course my
+curiosity had to go unsatisfied.  Of one thing I might be certain,
+namely, that Derrick had gone through with it like a Trojan, that he
+had smiled and congratulated in his quiet way, and had done the best
+to efface himself and think only of Freda.  But as everyone knows:
+
+     "Face joy's a costly mask to wear,
+      'Tis bought with pangs long nourished
+      And rounded to despair;"
+
+and he looked now even more worn and old than he had done at Ben
+Rhydding in the first days of his trouble.
+
+However, he turned resolutely away from the subject I had introduced
+and began to discuss titles for his novel.
+
+"It's impossible to find anything new," he said, "absolutely
+impossible.  I declare I shall take to numbers."
+
+I laughed at this prosaic notion, and we were still discussing the
+title when we reached home.
+
+"Don't say anything about it at lunch," he said as we entered.  "My
+father detests my writing."
+
+I nodded assent and opened the sitting-room door--a strong smell of
+brandy instantly became apparent; the Major sat in the green velvet
+chair, which had been wheeled close to the hearth.  He was drunk.
+
+Derrick gave an ejaculation of utter hopelessness.
+
+"This will undo all the good of Ben Rhydding!" he said.  "How on
+earth has he managed to get it?"
+
+The Major, however, was not so far gone as he looked; he caught up
+the remark and turned towards us with a hideous laugh.
+
+"Ah, yes," he said, "that's the question.  But the old man has still
+some brains, you see.  I'll be even with you yet, Derrick.  You
+needn't think you're to have it all your own way.  It's my turn now.
+You've deprived me all this time of the only thing I care for in
+life, and now I turn the tables on you.  Tit for tat.  Oh! yes, I've
+turned your d--d scribblings to a useful purpose, so you needn't
+complain!"
+
+All this had been shouted out at the top of his voice and freely
+interlarded with expressions which I will not repeat; at the end he
+broke again into a laugh, and with a look, half idiotic, half
+devilish, pointed towards the grate.
+
+"Good Heavens!" I said, "what have you done?"
+
+By the side of the chair I saw a piece of brown paper, and, catching
+it up, read the address--"Messrs. Davison, Paternoster Row"; in the
+fireplace was a huge charred mass.  Derrick caught his breath; he
+stooped down and snatched from the fender a fragment of paper
+slightly burned, but still not charred beyond recognition like the
+rest.  The writing was quite legible--it was his own writing--the
+description of the Royalists' attack and Paul Wharncliffe's defence
+of the bridge.  I looked from the half-burnt scrap of paper to the
+side table where, only the previous night, we had placed the novel,
+and then, realising as far as any but an author could realise the
+frightful thing that had happened, I looked in Derrick's face.  Its
+white fury appalled me.  What he had borne hitherto from the Major,
+God only knows, but this was the last drop in the cup.  Daily
+insults, ceaseless provocation, even the humiliations of personal
+violence he had borne with superhuman patience; but this last
+injury, this wantonly cruel outrage, this deliberate destruction of
+an amount of thought, and labour, and suffering which only the
+writer himself could fully estimate--this was intolerable.
+
+What might have happened had the Major been sober and in the
+possession of ordinary physical strength I hardly care to think.  As
+it was, his weakness protected him.  Derrick's wrath was speechless;
+with one look of loathing and contempt at the drunken man, he strode
+out of the room, caught up his hat, and hurried from the house.
+
+The Major sat chuckling to himself for a minute or two, but soon he
+grew drowsy, and before long was snoring like a grampus.  The old
+landlady brought in lunch, saw the state of things pretty quickly,
+shook her head and commiserated Derrick.  Then, when she had left
+the room, seeing no prospect that either of my companions would be
+in a fit state for lunch, I made a solitary meal, and had just
+finished when a cab stopped at the door and out sprang Derrick.  I
+went into the passage to meet him.
+
+"The Major is asleep," I remarked.
+
+He took no more notice than if I had spoken of the cat.
+
+"I'm going to London," he said, making for the stairs.  "Can you get
+your bag ready?  There's a train at 2.5."
+
+Somehow the suddenness and the self-control with which he made this
+announcement carried me back to the hotel at Southampton, where,
+after listening to the account of the ship's doctor, he had
+announced his intention of living with his father.  For more than
+two years he had borne this awful life; he had lost pretty nearly
+all that there was to be lost and he had gained the Major's
+vindictive hatred.  Now, half maddened by pain, and having, as he
+thought, so hopelessly failed, he saw nothing for it but to go--and
+that at once.
+
+I packed my bag, and then went to help him.  He was cramming all his
+possessions into portmanteaux and boxes; the Hoffman was already
+packed, and the wall looked curiously bare without it.  Clearly this
+was no visit to London--he was leaving Bath for good, and who could
+wonder at it?
+
+"I have arranged for the attendant from the hospital to come in at
+night as well as in the morning," he said, as he locked a
+portmanteau that was stuffed almost to bursting.  "What's the time?
+We must make haste or we shall lose the train.  Do, like a good
+fellow, cram that heap of things into the carpet-bag while I speak
+to the landlady."
+
+At last we were off, rattling through the quiet streets of Bath, and
+reaching the station barely in time to rush up the long flight of
+stairs and spring into an empty carriage.  Never shall I forget that
+journey.  The train stopped at every single station, and sometimes
+in between; we were five mortal hours on the road, and more than
+once I thought Derrick would have fainted.  However, he was not of
+the fainting order, he only grew more and more ghastly in colour and
+rigid in expression.
+
+I felt very anxious about him, for the shock and the sudden anger
+following on the trouble about Freda seemed to me enough to unhinge
+even a less sensitive nature.  'At Strife' was the novel which had,
+I firmly believe, kept him alive through that awful time at Ben
+Rhydding, and I began to fear that the Major's fit of drunken malice
+might prove the destruction of the author as well as of the book.
+Everything had, as it were, come at once on poor Derrick; yet I
+don't know that he fared worse than other people in this respect.
+
+Life, unfortunately, is for most of us no well-arranged story with a
+happy termination; it is a chequered affair of shade and sun, and
+for one beam of light there come very often wide patches of shadow.
+Men seem to have known this so far back as Shakespeare's time, and
+to have observed that one woe trod on another's heels, to have
+battled not with a single wave, but with a 'sea of troubles,' and to
+have remarked that 'sorrows come not singly, but in battalions.'
+
+However, owing I believe chiefly to his own self-command, and to his
+untiring faculty for taking infinite pains over his work, Derrick
+did not break down, but pleasantly cheated my expectations.  I was
+not called on to nurse him through a fever, and consumption did not
+mark him for her own.  In fact, in the matter of illness, he was
+always a most prosaic, unromantic fellow, and never indulged in any
+of the euphonious and interesting ailments.  In all his life, I
+believe, he never went in for anything but the mumps--of all
+complaints the least interesting--and, may be, an occasional
+headache.
+
+However, all this is a digression.  We at length reached London, and
+Derrick took a room above mine, now and then disturbing me with
+nocturnal pacings over the creaking boards, but, on the whole,
+proving himself the best of companions.
+
+If I wrote till Doomsday, I could never make you understand how the
+burning of his novel affected him--to this day it is a subject I
+instinctively avoid with him--though the re-written 'At Strife' has
+been such a grand success.  For he did re-write the story, and that
+at once.  He said little; but the very next morning, in one of the
+windows of our quiet sitting-room, often enough looking despairingly
+at the grey monotony of Montague Street, he began at 'Page I,
+Chapter I,' and so worked patiently on for many months to re-make as
+far as he could what his drunken father had maliciously destroyed.
+Beyond the unburnt paragraph about the attack on Mondisfield, he had
+nothing except a few hastily scribbled ideas in his note-book, and
+of course the very elaborate and careful historical notes which he
+had made on the Civil War during many years of reading and research-
+-for this period had always been a favourite study with him.
+
+But, as any author will understand, the effort of re-writing was
+immense, and this, combined with all the other troubles, tried
+Derrick to the utmost.  However, he toiled on, and I have always
+thought that his resolute, unyielding conduct with regard to that
+book proved what a man he was.
+
+
+
+Chapter VIII.
+
+     "How oft Fate's sharpest blow shall leave thee strong,
+      With some re-risen ecstacy of song."
+                                         F. W. H. Myers.
+
+As the autumn wore on, we heard now and then from old Mackrill the
+doctor.  His reports of the Major were pretty uniform.  Derrick used
+to hand them over to me when he had read them; but, by tacit
+consent, the Major's name was never mentioned.
+
+Meantime, besides re-writing 'At Strife,' he was accumulating
+material for his next book and working to very good purpose.  Not a
+minute of his day was idle; he read much, saw various phases of life
+hitherto unknown to him, studied, observed, gained experience, and
+contrived, I believe, to think very little and very guardedly of
+Freda.
+
+But, on Christmas Eve, I noticed a change in him--and that very
+night he spoke to me.  For such an impressionable fellow, he had
+really extraordinary tenacity, and, spite of the course of Herbert
+Spencer that I had put him through, he retained his unshaken faith
+in many things which to me were at that time the merest legends.  I
+remember very well the arguments we used to have on the vexed
+question of 'Free-will,' and being myself more or less of a
+fatalist, it annoyed me that I never could in the very slightest
+degree shake his convictions on that point.  Moreover, when I
+plagued him too much with Herbert Spencer, he had a way of
+retaliating, and would foist upon me his favourite authors.  He was
+never a worshipper of any one writer, but always had at least a
+dozen prophets in whose praise he was enthusiastic.
+
+Well, on this Christmas Eve, we had been to see dear old Ravenscroft
+and his grand-daughter, and we were walking back through the quiet
+precincts of the Temple, when he said abruptly:
+
+"I have decided to go back to Bath to-morrow."
+
+"Have you had a worse account?" I asked, much startled at this
+sudden announcement.
+
+"No," he replied, "but the one I had a week ago was far from good if
+you remember, and I have a feeling that I ought to be there."
+
+At that moment we emerged into the confusion of Fleet Street; but
+when we had crossed the road I began to remonstrate with him, and
+argued the folly of the idea all the way down Chancery Lane.
+
+However, there was no shaking his purpose; Christmas and its
+associations had made his life in town no longer possible for him.
+
+"I must at any rate try it again and see how it works," he said.
+
+And all I could do was to persuade him to leave the bulk of his
+possessions in London, "in case," as he remarked, "the Major would
+not have him."
+
+So the next day I was left to myself again with nothing to remind me
+of Derrick's stay but his pictures which still hung on the wall of
+our sitting-room.  I made him promise to write a full, true, and
+particular account of his return, a bona-fide old-fashioned letter,
+not the half-dozen lines of these degenerate days; and about a week
+later I received the following budget:
+
+"Dear Sydney,--I got down to Bath all right, and, thanks to your
+'Study of Sociology,' endured a slow, and cold, and dull, and
+depressing journey with the thermometer down to zero, and spirits to
+correspond, with the country a monotonous white, and the sky a
+monotonous grey, and a companion who smoked the vilest tobacco you
+can conceive.  The old place looks as beautiful as ever, and to my
+great satisfaction the hills round about are green.  Snow, save in
+pictures, is an abomination.  Milsom Street looked asleep, and Gay
+Street decidedly dreary, but the inhabitants were roused by my
+knock, and the old landlady nearly shook my hand off.  My father has
+an attack of jaundice and is in a miserable state.  He was asleep
+when I got here, and the good old landlady, thinking the front
+sitting-room would be free, had invited 'company,' i.e., two or
+three married daughters and their belongings; one of the children
+beats Magnay's 'Carina' as to beauty--he ought to paint her.  Happy
+thought, send him and pretty Mrs. Esperance down here on spec.  He
+can paint the child for the next Academy, and meantime I could enjoy
+his company.  Well, all these good folks being just set-to at roast
+beef, I naturally wouldn't hear of disturbing them, and in the end
+was obliged to sit down too and eat at that hour of the day the
+hugest dinner you ever saw--anything but voracious appetites
+offended the hostess.  Magnay's future model, for all its angelic
+face, 'ate to repletion,' like the fair American in the story.  Then
+I went into my father's room, and shortly after he woke up and asked
+me to give him some Friedrichshall water, making no comment at all
+on my return, but just behaving as though I had been here all the
+autumn, so that I felt as if the whole affair were a dream.  Except
+for this attack of jaundice, he has been much as usual, and when you
+next come down you will find us settled into our old groove.  The
+quiet of it after London is extraordinary.  But I believe it suits
+the book, which gets on pretty fast.  This afternoon I went up
+Lansdowne and right on past the Grand Stand to Prospect Stile, which
+is at the edge of a high bit of tableland, and looks over a splendid
+stretch of country, with the Bristol Channel and the Welsh hills in
+the distance.  While I was there the sun most considerately set in
+gorgeous array.  You never saw anything like it.  It was worth the
+journey from London to Bath, I can assure you.  Tell Magnay, and may
+it lure him down; also name the model aforementioned.
+
+"How is the old Q.C. and his pretty grandchild?  That quaint old
+room of theirs in the Temple somehow took my fancy, and the child
+was divine.  Do you remember my showing you, in a gloomy narrow
+street here, a jolly old watchmaker who sits in his shop-window and
+is for ever bending over sick clocks and watches?  Well, he's still
+sitting there, as if he had never moved since we saw him that
+Saturday months ago.  I mean to study him for a portrait; his
+sallow, clean-shaved, wrinkled face has a whole story in it.  I
+believe he is married to a Xantippe who throws cold water over him,
+both literally and metaphorically; but he is a philosopher--I'll
+stake my reputation as an observer on that--he just shrugs his
+sturdy old shoulders, and goes on mending clocks and watches.  On
+dark days he works by a gas jet--and then Rembrandt would enjoy
+painting him.  I look at him whenever my world is particularly awry,
+and find him highly beneficial.  Davison has forwarded me to-day two
+letters from readers of 'Lynwood.'  The first is from an irate
+female who takes me to task for the dangerous tendency of the story,
+and insists that I have drawn impossible circumstances and
+impossible characters.  The second is from an old clergyman, who
+writes a pathetic letter of thanks, and tells me that it is almost
+word for word the story of a son of his who died five years ago.
+Query:  shall I send the irate female the old man's letter, and save
+myself the trouble of writing?  But on the whole I think not; it
+would be pearls before swine.  I will write to her myself.  Glad to
+see you whenever you can run down.
+      "Yours ever,
+          "D. V."
+
+("Never struck me before what pious initials mine are.")
+
+The very evening I received this letter I happened to be dining at
+the Probyn's.  As luck would have it, pretty Miss Freda was staying
+in the house, and she fell to my share.  I always liked her, though
+of late I had felt rather angry with her for being carried away by
+the general storm of admiration and swept by it into an engagement
+with Lawrence Vaughan.  She was a very pleasant, natural sort of
+talker, and she always treated me as an old friend.  But she seemed
+to me, that night, a little less satisfied than usual with life.
+Perhaps it was merely the effect of the black lace dress which she
+wore, but I fancied her paler and thinner, and somehow she seemed
+all eyes.
+
+"Where is Lawrence now?" I asked, as we went down to the dining-
+room.
+
+"He is stationed at Dover," she replied.  "He was up here for a few
+hours yesterday; he came to say good-bye to me, for I am going to
+Bath next Monday with my father, who has been very rheumatic lately-
+-and you know Bath is coming into fashion again, all the doctors
+recommend it."
+
+"Major Vaughan is there," I said, "and has found the waters very
+good, I believe; any day, at twelve o'clock, you may see him getting
+out of his chair and going into the Pump Room on Derrick's arm.  I
+often wonder what outsiders think of them.  It isn't often, is it,
+that one sees a son absolutely giving up his life to his invalid
+father?"
+
+She looked a little startled.
+
+"I wish Lawrence could be more with Major Vaughan," she said; "for
+he is his father's favourite.  You see he is such a good talker, and
+Derrick--well, he is absorbed in his books; and then he has such
+extravagant notions about war, he must be a very uncongenial
+companion to the poor Major."
+
+I devoured turbot in wrathful silence.  Freda glanced at me.
+
+"It is true, isn't it, that he has quite given up his life to
+writing, and cares for nothing else?"
+
+"Well, he has deliberately sacrificed his best chance of success by
+leaving London and burying himself in the provinces," I replied
+drily; "and as to caring for nothing but writing, why he never gets
+more than two or three hours a day for it."  And then I gave her a
+minute account of his daily routine.
+
+She began to look troubled.
+
+"I have been misled," she said; "I had gained quite a wrong
+impression of him."
+
+"Very few people know anything at all about him," I said warmly;
+"you are not alone in that."
+
+"I suppose his next novel is finished now?" said Freda; "he told me
+he had only one or two more chapters to write when I saw him a few
+months ago on his way from Ben Rhydding.  What is he writing now?"
+
+"He is writing that novel over again," I replied.
+
+"Over again?  What fearful waste of time!"
+
+"Yes, it has cost him hundreds of hours' work; it just shows what a
+man he is, that he has gone through with it so bravely."
+
+"But how do you mean?  Didn't it do?"
+
+Rashly, perhaps, yet I think unavoidably, I told her the truth.
+
+"It was the best thing he had ever written, but unfortunately it was
+destroyed, burnt to a cinder.  That was not very pleasant, was it,
+for a man who never makes two copies of his work?"
+
+"It was frightful!" said Freda, her eyes dilating.  "I never heard a
+word about it.  Does Lawrence know?"
+
+"No, he does not; and perhaps I ought not to have told you, but I
+was annoyed at your so misunderstanding Derrick.  Pray never mention
+the affair; he would wish it kept perfectly quiet."
+
+"Why?" asked Freda, turning her clear eyes full upon mine.
+
+"Because," I said, lowering my voice, "because his father burnt it."
+
+She almost gasped.
+
+"Deliberately?"
+
+"Yes, deliberately," I replied.  "His illness has affected his
+temper, and he is sometimes hardly responsible for his actions."
+
+"Oh, I knew that he was irritable and hasty, and that Derrick
+annoyed him.  Lawrence told me that, long ago," said Freda.  "But
+that he should have done such a thing as that!  It is horrible!
+Poor Derrick, how sorry I am for him.  I hope we shall see something
+of them at Bath.  Do you know how the Major is?"
+
+"I had a letter about him from Derrick only this evening," I
+replied; "if you care to see it, I will show it you later on."
+
+And by-and-by, in the drawing-room, I put Derrick's letter into her
+hands, and explained to her how for a few months he had given up his
+life at Bath, in despair, but now had returned.
+
+"I don't think Lawrence can understand the state of things," she
+said wistfully.  "And yet he has been down there."
+
+I made no reply, and Freda, with a sigh, turned away.
+
+A month later I went down to Bath and found, as my friend foretold,
+everything going on in the old groove, except that Derrick himself
+had an odd, strained look about him, as if he were fighting a foe
+beyond his strength.  Freda's arrival at Bath had been very hard on
+him, it was almost more than he could endure.  Sir Richard, blind as
+a bat, of course, to anything below the surface, made a point of
+seeing something of Lawrence's brother.  And on the day of my
+arrival Derrick and I had hardly set out for a walk, when we ran
+across the old man.
+
+Sir Richard, though rheumatic in the wrists, was nimble of foot and
+an inveterate walker.  He was going with his daughter to see over
+Beckford's Tower, and invited us to accompany him.  Derrick, much
+against the grain, I fancy, had to talk to Freda, who, in her winter
+furs and close-fitting velvet hat, looked more fascinating than
+ever, while the old man descanted to me on Bath waters, antiquities,
+etc., in a long-winded way that lasted all up the hill.  We made our
+way into the cemetery and mounted the tower stairs, thinking of the
+past when this dreary place had been so gorgeously furnished.  Here
+Derrick contrived to get ahead with Sir Richard, and Freda lingered
+in a sort of alcove with me.
+
+"I have been so wanting to see you," she said, in an agitated voice.
+"Oh, Mr. Wharncliffe, is it true what I have heard about the Major?
+Does he drink?"
+
+"Who told you?" I said, a little embarrassed.
+
+"It was our landlady," said Freda; "she is the daughter of the
+Major's landlady.  And you should hear what she says of Derrick!
+Why, he must be a downright hero!  All the time I have been half
+despising him"--she choked back a sob--"he has been trying to save
+his father from what was certain death to him--so they told me.  Do
+you think it is true?"
+
+"I know it is," I replied gravely.
+
+"And about his arm--was that true?"
+
+I signed an assent.
+
+Her grey eyes grew moist.
+
+"Oh," she cried, "how I have been deceived and how little Lawrence
+appreciates him!  I think he must know that I've misjudged him, for
+he seems so odd and shy, and I don't think he likes to talk to me."
+
+I looked searchingly into her truthful grey eyes, thinking of poor
+Derrick's unlucky love-story.
+
+"You do not understand him," I said; "and perhaps it is best so."
+
+But the words and the look were rash, for all at once the colour
+flooded her face.  She turned quickly away, conscious at last that
+the midsummer dream of those yachting days had to Derrick been no
+dream at all, but a life-long reality.
+
+I felt very sorry for Freda, for she was not at all the sort of girl
+who would glory in having a fellow hopelessly in love with her.  I
+knew that the discovery she had made would be nothing but a sorrow
+to her, and could guess how she would reproach herself for that
+innocent past fancy, which, till now, had seemed to her so faint and
+far-away--almost as something belonging to another life.  All at
+once we heard the others descending, and she turned to me with such
+a frightened, appealing look, that I could not possibly have helped
+going to the rescue.  I plunged abruptly into a discourse on
+Beckford, and told her how he used to keep diamonds in a tea-cup,
+and amused himself by arranging them on a piece of velvet.  Sir
+Richard fled from the sound of my prosy voice, and, needless to say,
+Derrick followed him.  We let them get well in advance and then
+followed, Freda silent and distraite, but every now and then asking
+a question about the Major.
+
+As for Derrick, evidently he was on guard.  He saw a good deal of
+the Merrifields and was sedulously attentive to them in many small
+ways; but with Freda he was curiously reserved, and if by chance
+they did talk together, he took good care to bring Lawrence's name
+into the conversation.  On the whole, I believe loyalty was his
+strongest characteristic, and want of loyalty in others tried him
+more severely than anything in the world.
+
+As the spring wore on, it became evident to everyone that the Major
+could not last long.  His son's watchfulness and the enforced
+temperance which the doctors insisted on had prolonged his life to a
+certain extent, but gradually his sufferings increased and his
+strength diminished.  At last he kept his bed altogether.
+
+What Derrick bore at this time no one can ever know.  When, one
+bright sunshiny Saturday, I went down to see how he was getting on,
+I found him worn and haggard, too evidently paying the penalty of
+sleepless nights and thankless care.  I was a little shocked to hear
+that Lawrence had been summoned, but when I was taken into the sick
+room I realised that they had done wisely to send for the favourite
+son.
+
+The Major was evidently dying.
+
+Never can I forget the cruelty and malevolence with which his
+bloodshot eyes rested on Derrick, or the patience with which the
+dear old fellow bore his father's scathing sarcasms.  It was while I
+was sitting by the bed that the landlady entered with a telegram,
+which she put into Derrick's hand.
+
+"From Lawrence!" said the dying man triumphantly, "to say by what
+train we may expect him.  Well?" as Derrick still read the message
+to himself, "can't you speak, you d--d idiot?  Have you lost your d-
+-d tongue?  What does he say?"
+
+"I am afraid he cannot be here just yet," said Derrick, trying to
+tone down the curt message; "it seems he cannot get leave."
+
+"Not get leave to see his dying father?  What confounded nonsense.
+Give me the thing here"; and he snatched the telegram from Derrick
+and read it in a quavering, hoarse voice:
+
+"Impossible to get away.  Am hopelessly tied here.  Love to my
+father.  Greatly regret to hear such bad news of him."
+
+I think that message made the old man realise the worth of
+Lawrence's often expressed affection for him.  Clearly it was a
+great blow to him.  He threw down the paper without a word and
+closed his eyes.  For half an hour he lay like that, and we did not
+disturb him.  At last he looked up; his voice was fainter and his
+manner more gentle.
+
+"Derrick," he said, "I believe I've done you an injustice; it is you
+who cared for me, not Lawrence, and I've struck your name out of my
+will--have left all to him.  After all, though you are one of those
+confounded novelists, you've done what you could for me.  Let some
+one fetch a solicitor--I'll alter it--I'll alter it!"
+
+I instantly hurried out to fetch a lawyer, but it was Saturday
+afternoon, the offices were closed, and some time passed before I
+had caught my man.  I told him as we hastened back some of the facts
+of the case, and he brought his writing materials into the sick room
+and took down from the Major's own lips the words which would have
+the effect of dividing the old man's possessions between his two
+sons.  Dr. Mackrill was now present; he stood on one side of the
+bed, his fingers on the dying man's pulse.  On the other side stood
+Derrick, a degree paler and graver than usual, but revealing little
+of his real feelings.
+
+"Word it as briefly as you can," said the doctor.
+
+And the lawyer scribbled away as though for his life, while the rest
+of us waited in a wretched hushed state of tension.  In the room
+itself there was no sound save the scratching of the pen and the
+laboured breathing of the old man; but in the next house we could
+hear someone playing a waltz.  Somehow it did not seem to me
+incongruous, for it was 'Sweethearts,' and that had been the
+favourite waltz of Ben Rhydding, so that I always connected it with
+Derrick and his trouble, and now the words rang in my ears:
+
+     "Oh, love for a year, a week, a day,
+      But alas! for the love that loves alway."
+
+If it had not been for the Major's return from India, I firmly
+believed that Derrick and Freda would by this time have been
+betrothed.  Derrick had taken a line which necessarily divided them,
+had done what he saw to be his duty; yet what were the results?  He
+had lost Freda, he had lost his book, he had damaged his chance of
+success as a writer, he had been struck out of his father's will,
+and he had suffered unspeakably.  Had anything whatever been gained?
+The Major was dying unrepentant to all appearance, as hard and
+cynical an old worldling as I ever saw.  The only spark of grace he
+showed was that tardy endeavour to make a fresh will.  What good had
+it all been?  What good?
+
+I could not answer the question then, could only cry out in a sort
+of indignation, "What profit is there in his blood?"  But looking at
+it now, I have a sort of perception that the very lack of apparent
+profitableness was part of Derrick's training, while if, as I now
+incline to think, there is a hereafter where the training begun here
+is continued, the old Major in the hell he most richly deserved
+would have the remembrance of his son's patience and constancy and
+devotion to serve as a guiding light in the outer darkness.
+
+The lawyer no longer wrote at railroad speed; he pushed back his
+chair, brought the will to the bed, and placed the pen in the
+trembling yellow hand of the invalid.
+
+"You must sign your name here," he said, pointing with his finger;
+and the Major raised himself a little, and brought the pen
+quaveringly down towards the paper.  With a sort of fascination I
+watched the finely-pointed steel nib; it trembled for an instant or
+two, then the pen dropped from the convulsed fingers, and with a cry
+of intolerable anguish the Major fell back.
+
+For some minutes there was a painful struggle; presently we caught a
+word or two between the groans of the dying man.
+
+"Too late!" he gasped, "too late!"  And then a dreadful vision of
+horrors seemed to rise before him, and with a terror that I can
+never forget he turned to his son and clutched fast hold of his
+hands:  "Derrick!" he shrieked.
+
+Derrick could not speak, but he bent low over the bed as though to
+screen the dying eyes from those horrible visions, and with an odd
+sort of thrill I saw him embrace his father.
+
+When he raised his head the terror had died out of the Major's face;
+all was over.
+
+
+
+Chapter IX.
+
+     "To duty firm, to conscience true,
+        However tried and pressed,
+      In God's clear sight high work we do,
+        If we but do out best."
+
+Lawrence came down to the funeral, and I took good care that he
+should hear all about his father's last hours, and I made the
+solicitor show him the unsigned will.  He made hardly any comment on
+it till we three were alone together.  Then with a sort of kindly
+patronage he turned to his brother--Derrick, it must be remembered,
+was the elder twin--and said pityingly, "Poor old fellow! it was
+rather rough on you that the governor couldn't sign this; but never
+mind, you'll soon, no doubt, be earning a fortune by your books; and
+besides, what does a bachelor want with more than you've already
+inherited from our mother?  Whereas, an officer just going to be
+married, and with this confounded reputation of hero to keep up,
+why, I can tell you it needs every penny of it!"
+
+Derrick looked at his brother searchingly.  I honestly believe that
+he didn't very much care about the money, but it cut him to the
+heart that Lawrence should treat him so shabbily.  The soul of
+generosity himself, he could not understand how anyone could frame a
+speech so infernally mean.
+
+"Of course," I broke in, "if Derrick liked to go to law he could no
+doubt get his rights, there are three witnesses who can prove what
+was the Major's real wish."
+
+"I shall not go to law," said Derrick, with a dignity of which I had
+hardly imagined him capable.  "You spoke of your marriage, Lawrence;
+is it to be soon?"
+
+"This autumn, I hope," said Lawrence; "at least, if I can overcome
+Sir Richard's ridiculous notion that a girl ought not to marry till
+she's twenty-one.  He's a most crotchety old fellow, that future
+father-in-law of mine."
+
+When Lawrence had first come back from the war I had thought him
+wonderfully improved, but a long course of spoiling and flattery had
+done him a world of harm.  He liked very much to be lionised, and to
+see him now posing in drawing-rooms, surrounded by a worshipping
+throng of women, was enough to sicken any sensible being.
+
+As for Derrick, though he could not be expected to feel his
+bereavement in the ordinary way, yet his father's death had been a
+great shock to him.  It was arranged that after settling various
+matters in Bath he should go down to stay with his sister for a
+time, joining me in Montague Street later on.  While he was away in
+Birmingham, however, an extraordinary change came into my humdrum
+life, and when he rejoined me a few weeks later, I--selfish brute--
+was so overwhelmed with the trouble that had befallen me that I
+thought very little indeed of his affairs.  He took this quite as a
+matter of course, and what I should have done without him I can't
+conceive.  However, this story concerns him and has nothing to do
+with my extraordinary dilemma; I merely mention it as a fact which
+brought additional cares into his life.  All the time he was doing
+what could be done to help me he was also going through a most
+baffling and miserable time among the publishers; for 'At Strife,'
+unlike its predecessor, was rejected by Davison and by five other
+houses.  Think of this, you comfortable readers, as you lie back in
+your easy chairs and leisurely turn the pages of that popular story.
+The book which represented years of study and long hours of hard
+work was first burnt to a cinder.  It was re-written with what
+infinite pains and toil few can understand.  It was then six times
+tied up and carried with anxiety and hope to a publisher's office,
+only to re-appear six times in Montague Street, an unwelcome
+visitor, bringing with it depression and disappointment.
+
+Derrick said little, but suffered much.  However, nothing daunted
+him.  When it came back from the sixth publisher he took it to a
+seventh, then returned and wrote away like a Trojan at his third
+book.  The one thing that never failed him was that curious
+consciousness that he HAD to write; like the prophets of old, the
+'burden' came to him, and speak it he must.
+
+The seventh publisher wrote a somewhat dubious letter:  the book, he
+thought, had great merit, but unluckily people were prejudiced, and
+historical novels rarely met with success.  However, he was willing
+to take the story, and offered half profits, candidly admitting that
+he had no great hopes of a large sale.  Derrick instantly closed
+with this offer, proofs came in, the book appeared, was well
+received like its predecessor, fell into the hands of one of the
+leaders of Society, and, to the intense surprise of the publisher,
+proved to be the novel of the year.  Speedily a second edition was
+called for; then, after a brief interval, a third edition--this time
+a rational one-volume affair; and the whole lot--6,000 I believe--
+went off on the day of publication.  Derrick was amazed; but he
+enjoyed his success very heartily, and I think no one could say that
+he had leapt into fame at a bound.
+
+Having devoured 'At Strife,' people began to discover the merits of
+'Lynwood's Heritage;' the libraries were besieged for it, and a
+cheap edition was hastily published, and another and another, till
+the book, which at first had been such a dead failure, rivalled 'At
+Strife.'  Truly an author's career is a curious thing; and precisely
+why the first book failed, and the second succeeded, no one could
+explain.
+
+It amused me very much to see Derrick turned into a lion--he was so
+essentially un-lion-like.  People were for ever asking him how he
+worked, and I remember a very pretty girl setting upon him once at a
+dinner-party with the embarrassing request:
+
+"Now, do tell me, Mr. Vaughan, how do you write stories?  I wish you
+would give me a good receipt for a novel."
+
+Derrick hesitated uneasily for a minute; finally, with a humorous
+smile, he said:
+
+"Well, I can't exactly tell you, because, more or less, novels grow;
+but if you want a receipt, you might perhaps try after this
+fashion:--Conceive your hero, add a sprinkling of friends and
+relatives, flavour with whatever scenery or local colour you please,
+carefully consider what circumstances are most likely to develop
+your man into the best he is capable of, allow the whole to simmer
+in your brain as long as you can, and then serve, while hot, with
+ink upon white or blue foolscap, according to taste."
+
+The young lady applauded the receipt, but she sighed a little, and
+probably relinquished all hope of concocting a novel herself; on the
+whole, it seemed to involve incessant taking of trouble.
+
+About this time I remember, too, another little scene, which I
+enjoyed amazingly.  I laugh now when I think of it.  I happened to
+be at a huge evening crush, and rather to my surprise, came across
+Lawrence Vaughan.  We were talking together, when up came Connington
+of the Foreign Office.  "I say, Vaughan," he said, "Lord Remington
+wishes to be introduced to you."  I watched the old statesman a
+little curiously as he greeted Lawrence, and listened to his first
+words:  "Very glad to make your acquaintance, Captain Vaughan; I
+understand that the author of that grand novel, 'At Strife,' is a
+brother of yours."  And poor Lawrence spent a mauvais quart d'heure,
+inwardly fuming, I know, at the idea that he, the hero of Saspataras
+Hill, should be considered merely as 'the brother of Vaughan, the
+novelist.'
+
+Fate, or perhaps I should say the effect of his own pernicious
+actions, did not deal kindly just now with Lawrence.  Somehow Freda
+learnt about that will, and, being no bread-and-butter miss, content
+meekly to adore her fiance and deem him faultless, she 'up and
+spake' on the subject, and I fancy poor Lawrence must have had
+another mauvais quart d'heure.  It was not this, however, which led
+to a final breach between them; it was something which Sir Richard
+discovered with regard to Lawrence's life at Dover.  The engagement
+was instantly broken off, and Freda, I am sure, felt nothing but
+relief.  She went abroad for some time, however, and we did not see
+her till long after Lawrence had been comfortably married to 1,500
+pounds a year and a middle-aged widow, who had long been a hero-
+worshipper, and who, I am told, never allowed any visitor to leave
+the house without making some allusion to the memorable battle of
+Saspataras Hill and her Lawrence's gallant action.
+
+For the two years following after the Major's death, Derrick and I,
+as I mentioned before, shared the rooms in Montague Street.  For me,
+owing to the trouble I spoke of, they were years of maddening
+suspense and pain; but what pleasure I did manage to enjoy came
+entirely through the success of my friend's books and from his
+companionship.  It was odd that from the care of his father he
+should immediately pass on to the care of one who had made such a
+disastrous mistake as I had made.  But I feel the less compunction
+at the thought of the amount of sympathy I called for at that time,
+because I notice that the giving of sympathy is a necessity for
+Derrick, and that when the troubles of other folk do not immediately
+thrust themselves into his life he carefully hunts them up.  During
+these two years he was reading for the Bar--not that he ever
+expected to do very much as a barrister, but he thought it well to
+have something to fall back on, and declared that the drudgery of
+the reading would do him good.  He was also writing as usual, and he
+used to spend two evenings a week at Whitechapel, where he taught
+one of the classes in connection with Toynbee Hall, and where he
+gained that knowledge of East-end life which is conspicuous in his
+third book--'Dick Carew.'  This, with an ever increasing and often
+very burdensome correspondence, brought to him by his books, and
+with a fair share of dinners, 'At Homes,' and so forth, made his
+life a full one.  In a quiet sort of way I believe he was happy
+during this time.  But later on, when, my trouble at an end, I had
+migrated to a house of my own, and he was left alone in the Montague
+Street rooms, his spirits somehow flagged.
+
+Fame is, after all, a hollow, unsatisfying thing to a man of his
+nature.  He heartily enjoyed his success, he delighted in hearing
+that his books had given pleasure or had been of use to anyone, but
+no public victory could in the least make up to him for the loss he
+had suffered in his private life; indeed, I almost think there were
+times when his triumphs as an author seemed to him utterly
+worthless--days of depression when the congratulations of his
+friends were nothing but a mockery.  He had gained a striking
+success, it is true, but he had lost Freda; he was in the position
+of the starving man who has received a gift of bon-bons, but so
+craves for bread that they half sicken him.  I used now and then to
+watch his face when, as often happened, someone said:  "What an
+enviable fellow you are, Vaughan, to get on like this!" or, "What
+wouldn't I give to change places with you!"  He would invariably
+smile and turn the conversation; but there was a look in his eyes at
+such times that I hated to see--it always made me think of Mrs.
+Browning's poem, 'The Mask':
+
+     "Behind no prison-grate, she said,
+        Which slurs the sunshine half a mile,
+      Live captives so uncomforted
+        As souls behind a smile."
+
+As to the Merrifields, there was no chance of seeing them, for Sir
+Richard had gone to India in some official capacity, and no doubt,
+as everyone said, they would take good care to marry Freda out
+there.  Derrick had not seen her since that trying February at Bath,
+long ago.  Yet I fancy she was never out of his thoughts.
+
+And so the years rolled on, and Derrick worked away steadily, giving
+his books to the world, accepting the comforts and discomforts of an
+author's life, laughing at the outrageous reports that were in
+circulation about him, yet occasionally, I think, inwardly wincing
+at them, and learning from the number of begging letters which he
+received, and into which he usually caused searching inquiry to be
+made, that there are in the world a vast number of undeserving poor.
+
+One day I happened to meet Lady Probyn at a garden-party; it was at
+the same house on Campden Hill where I had once met Freda, and
+perhaps it was the recollection of this which prompted me to enquire
+after her.
+
+"She has not been well," said Lady Probyn, "and they are sending her
+back to England; the climate doesn't suit her.  She is to make her
+home with us for the present, so I am the gainer.  Freda has always
+been my favourite niece.  I don't know what it is about her that is
+so taking; she is not half so pretty as the others."
+
+"But so much more charming," I said.  "I wonder she has not married
+out in India, as everyone prophesied."
+
+"And so do I," said her aunt.  "However, poor child, no doubt, after
+having been two years engaged to that very disappointing hero of
+Saspataras Hill, she will be shy of venturing to trust anyone
+again."
+
+"Do you think that affair ever went very deep?" I ventured to ask.
+"It seemed to me that she looked miserable during her engagement,
+and happy when it was broken off."
+
+"Quite so," said Lady Probyn; "I noticed the same thing.  It was
+nothing but a mistake.  They were not in the least suited to each
+other.  By-the-by, I hear that Derrick Vaughan is married."
+
+"Derrick?" I exclaimed; "oh, no, that is a mistake.  It is merely
+one of the hundred and one reports that are for ever being set
+afloat about him."
+
+"But I saw it in a paper, I assure you," said Lady Probyn, by no
+means convinced.
+
+"Ah, that may very well be; they were hard up for a paragraph, no
+doubt, and inserted it.  But, as for Derrick, why, how should he
+marry?  He has been madly in love with Miss Merrifield ever since
+our cruise in the Aurora."
+
+Lady Probyn made an inarticulate exclamation.
+
+"Poor fellow!" she said, after a minute's thought; "that explains
+much to me."
+
+She did not explain her rather ambiguous remark, and before long our
+tete-a-tete was interrupted.
+
+Now that my friend was a full-fledged barrister, he and I shared
+chambers, and one morning about a month after this garden party,
+Derrick came in with a face of such radiant happiness that I
+couldn't imagine what good luck had befallen him.
+
+"What do you think?" he exclaimed; "here's an invitation for a
+cruise in the Aurora at the end of August--to be nearly the same
+party that we had years ago," and he threw down the letter for me to
+read.
+
+Of course there was special mention of "my niece, Miss Merrifield,
+who has just returned from India, and is ordered plenty of sea-air."
+I could have told that without reading the letter, for it was
+written quite clearly in Derrick's face.  He looked ten years
+younger, and if any of his adoring readers could have seen the
+pranks he was up to that morning in our staid and respectable
+chambers, I am afraid they would no longer have spoken of him "with
+'bated breath and whispering humbleness."
+
+As it happened, I, too, was able to leave home for a fortnight at
+the end of August; and so our party in the Aurora really was the
+same, except that we were all several years older, and let us hope
+wiser, than on the previous occasion.  Considering all that had
+intervened, I was surprised that Derrick was not more altered; as
+for Freda, she was decidedly paler than when we first met her, but
+before long sea-air and happiness wrought a wonderful transformation
+in her.
+
+In spite of the pessimists who are for ever writing books, even
+writing novels (more shame to them), to prove that there is no such
+thing as happiness in the world, we managed every one of us heartily
+to enjoy our cruise.  It seemed indeed true that:
+
+     "Green leaves and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
+      And singing and loving all come back together."
+
+Something, at any rate, of the glamour of those past days came back
+to us all, I fancy, as we laughed and dozed and idled and talked
+beneath the snowy wings of the Aurora, and I cannot say I was in the
+least surprised when, on roaming through the pleasant garden walks
+in that unique little island of Tresco, I came once more upon
+Derrick and Freda, with, if you will believe it, another handful of
+white heather given to them by that discerning gardener!  Freda once
+more reminded me of the girl in the 'Biglow Papers,' and Derrick's
+face was full of such bliss as one seldom sees.
+
+He had always had to wait for his good things, but in the end they
+came to him.  However, you may depend upon it, he didn't say much.
+That was never his way.  He only gripped my hand, and, with his eyes
+all aglow with happiness, exclaimed "Congratulate me, old fellow!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext Derrick Vaughan--Novelist, by Edna Lyall
+
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