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diff --git a/17063-h/17063-h.htm b/17063-h/17063-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..099a4e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/17063-h/17063-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10365 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Lost Leader, by E. Phillips Oppenheim</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + pre {font-size: 75%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Lost Leader, by E. Phillips Oppenheim, +Illustrated by Fred Pegram</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: A Lost Leader</p> +<p>Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim</p> +<p>Release Date: November 14, 2005 [eBook #17063]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LOST LEADER***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (https://www.pgdp.net/)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill_cover.jpg"><img src="images/ill_cover.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + + + +<h1>A Lost Leader</h1> + +<h2>By E. Phillips Oppenheim</h2> + +<h4>Author of "A Maker of History," "Mysterious Mr. Sabin," "The Master +Mummer," "Anna the Adventuress," Etc.</h4> + +<h4>Illustrated by Fred Pegram</h4> + +<h5>Boston<br /> +Little, Brown & Company<br /> +1907</h5> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> + +<h3>BOOK I</h3> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I--<span class="smcap">Reconstruction</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II--<span class="smcap">The Woman with an Alias</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III--<span class="smcap">Wanted—A Politician</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV--<span class="smcap">The Duchess Asks a Question</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V--<span class="smcap">The Hesitation of Mr. Mannering</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI--<span class="smcap">Sacrifice</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII--<span class="smcap">The Duchess's "At Home"</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII--<span class="smcap">The Mannering Mystery</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX--<span class="smcap">The Pumping of Mrs. Phillimore</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X--<span class="smcap">The Man with a Motive</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI--<span class="smcap">Mannering's Alternative</span></a><br /> +</p> +<h3>BOOK II</h3> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Ia">CHAPTER I--<span class="smcap">Borrowdean makes a Bargain</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIa">CHAPTER II--<span class="smcap">"Cherchez la Femme"</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIIa">CHAPTER III--<span class="smcap">One of the "Sufferers"</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IVa">CHAPTER IV--<span class="smcap">Debts of Honour</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Va">CHAPTER V--<span class="smcap">Love <i>versus</i> Politics</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIa">CHAPTER VI--<span class="smcap">The Conscience of a Statesman</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIa">CHAPTER VII--<span class="smcap">A Blow for Borrowdean</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIIa">CHAPTER VIII--<span class="smcap">A Page from the Past</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IXa">CHAPTER IX--<span class="smcap">The Faltering of Mannering</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Xa">CHAPTER X--<span class="smcap">The End of a Dream</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIa">CHAPTER XI--<span class="smcap">Borrowdean shows his "Hand"</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIIa">CHAPTER XII--<span class="smcap">Sir Leslie Borrowdean incurs a Heavy Debt</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIIIa">CHAPTER XIII--<span class="smcap">The Woman and—the Other Woman</span></a><br /> +</p> +<h3>BOOK III</h3> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Ib">CHAPTER I--<span class="smcap">Matrimony and an Awkward Meeting</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIb">CHAPTER II--<span class="smcap">The Snub for Borrowdean</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIIb">CHAPTER III--<span class="smcap">Clouds—and a Call to Arms</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IVb">CHAPTER IV--<span class="smcap">Disaster</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Vb">CHAPTER V--<span class="smcap">The Journalist Intervenes</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIb">CHAPTER VI--<span class="smcap">Treachery and a Telegram</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIb">CHAPTER VII--<span class="smcap">Mr. Mannering, M.P.</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIIb">CHAPTER VIII--<span class="smcap">Playing the Game</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IXb">CHAPTER IX--<span class="smcap">The Tragedy of a Key</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Xb">CHAPTER X--<span class="smcap">Blanche finds a Way Out</span></a><br /> +</p> +<h3>BOOK IV</h3> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Ic">CHAPTER I--<span class="smcap">The Persistency of Borrowdean</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIc">CHAPTER II--<span class="smcap">Hester Thinks it "A Great Pity"</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIIc">CHAPTER III--<span class="smcap">Summoned to Windsor</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IVc">CHAPTER IV--<span class="smcap">Checkmate to Borrowdean</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Vc">CHAPTER V--<span class="smcap">A Brazen Proceeding</span></a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#E_Phillips_Oppenheims_Novels">E. Phillips Oppenheim's Novels</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<p> +<a href="images/ill1_th.jpg">'I am very glad to know you, Mrs. Mannering.'</a><br /> + +<a href="images/ill2_th.jpg">'I must have a few words with you before I go back,' he said, nonchalantly.</a><br /> + +<a href="images/ill3_th.jpg">She leaned over him, one hand on the back of his chair.</a><br /> + +<a href="images/ill4_th.jpg">Sir Leslie never quite forgot her gesture as she motioned him towards the door.</a><br /> + +<a href="images/ill5_th.jpg">She was the only beautiful woman who sat alone and companionless.</a><br /> + +<a href="images/ill6_th.jpg">'You will find yourself repaid for this, Sir Leslie,' she murmured.</a><br /> + +<a href="images/ill7_th.jpg">Mannering rose to play his shot.</a><br /> + +<a href="images/ill8_th.jpg">She was already on her way up the grey stone steps.</a> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>A LOST LEADER</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BOOK I</h2> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>RECONSTRUCTION</h3> + + +<p>The two men stood upon the top of a bank bordering the rough road which +led to the sea. They were listening to the lark, which had risen +fluttering from their feet a moment or so ago, and was circling now above +their heads. Mannering, with a quiet smile, pointed upwards.</p> + +<p>"There, my friend!" he exclaimed. "You can listen now to arguments more +eloquent than any which I could ever frame. That little creature is +singing the true, uncorrupted song of life. He sings of the sunshine, the +buoyant air; the pure and simple joy of existence is beating in his +little heart. The things which lie behind the hills will never sadden +him. His kingdom is here, and he is content."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean's smile was a little cynical. He was essentially of that order +of men who are dwellers in cities, and even the sting of the salt breeze +blowing across the marshes—marshes riven everywhere with long arms of +the sea—could bring no colour to his pale cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Your little bird—a lark, I think you called it," he remarked, "may be a +very eloquent prophet for the whole kingdom of his species, but the song +of life for a bird and that for a man are surely different things!"</p> + +<p>"Not so very different after all," Mannering answered, still watching the +bird. "The longer one lives, the more clearly one recognizes the absolute +universality of life."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shrugged his shoulders, with a little gesture of impatience. +He had left London at a moment when he could ill be spared, and had not +travelled to this out-of-the-way corner of the kingdom to exchange +purposeless platitudes with a man whose present attitude towards life at +any rate he heartily despised. He seated himself upon a half-broken rail, +and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Mannering," he said, "I did not come here to simper cheap philosophies +with you like a couple of schoolgirls. I have a real live errand. I want +to speak to you of great things."</p> + +<p>Mannering moved a little uneasily. He had a very shrewd idea as to the +nature of that errand.</p> + +<p>"Of great things," he repeated slowly. "Are you in earnest, Borrowdean?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because," Mannering continued, "I have left the world of great things, +as you and I used to regard them, very far behind. I am glad to see you +here, of course, but I cannot think of any serious subject which it would +be useful or profitable for us to discuss. You understand me, Borrowdean, +I am sure!"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean closely eyed this man who once had been his friend.</p> + +<p>"The old sore still rankles, then, Mannering," he said. "Has time done +nothing to heal it?"</p> + +<p>Mannering laughed easily.</p> + +<p>"How can you think me such a child?" he exclaimed. "If Rochester himself +were to come to see me he would be as welcome as you are. In fact," he +continued, more seriously, "if you could only realize, my friend, how +peaceful and happy life here may be, amongst the quiet places, you would +believe me at once when I assure you that I can feel nothing but +gratitude towards those people and those circumstances which impelled me +to seek it."</p> + +<p>"What should you think, then," Borrowdean asked, watching his friend +through half-closed eyes, "of those who sought to drag you from it?"</p> + +<p>Mannering's laugh was as free and natural as the wind itself. He had +bared his head, and had turned directly seawards.</p> + +<p>"Hatred, my dear Borrowdean," he declared, "if I thought that they had a +single chance of success. As it is—indifference."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean's eyebrows were raised. He held his cigarette between his +fingers, and looked at it for several moments.</p> + +<p>"Yet I am here," he said slowly, "for no other purpose."</p> + +<p>Mannering turned and faced his friend.</p> + +<p>"All I can say is that I am sorry to hear it," he declared. "I know the +sort of man you are, Borrowdean, and I know very well that if you have +come down here with something to say to me you will say it. Therefore go +on. Let us have it over."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean stood up. His tone acquired a new earnestness. He became at +once more of a man. The cynical curve of his lips had vanished.</p> + +<p>"We are on the eve of great opportunities, Mannering," he said. "Six +months ago the result of the next General Election seemed assured. We +appeared to be as far off any chance of office as a political party could +be. To-day the whole thing is changed. We are on the eve of a general +reconstruction. It is our one great chance of this generation. I come to +you as a patriot. Rochester asks you to forget."</p> + +<p>Mannering held up his hand.</p> + +<p>"Stop one moment, Borrowdean," he said. "I want you to understand this +once and for all. I have no grievance against Rochester. The old wound, +if it ever amounted to that, is healed. If Rochester were here at this +moment I would take his hand cheerfully. But—"</p> + +<p>"Ah! There is a but, then," Borrowdean interrupted.</p> + +<p>"There is a but," Mannering assented. "You may find it hard to +understand, but here is the truth. I have lost all taste for public life. +The whole thing is rotten, Borrowdean, rotten from beginning to end. I +have had enough of it to last me all my days. Party policy must come +before principle. A man's individuality, his whole character, is assailed +and suborned on every side. There is but one life, one measure of days, +that you or I know anything of. It doesn't last very long. The months and +years have a knack of slipping away emptily enough unless we are always +standing to attention. Therefore I think that it becomes our duty to +consider very carefully, almost religiously, how best to use them. Come +here for a moment, Borrowdean. I want to show you something."</p> + +<p>The two men stood side by side upon the grassy bank, Mannering +broad-shouldered and vigorous, his clean, hard-cut features tanned with +wind and sun, his eyes bright and vigorous with health; Leslie +Borrowdean, once his greatest friend, a man of almost similar physique, +but with the bent frame and listless pallor of a dweller in the crowded +places of life. Without enthusiasm his tired eyes followed the sweep of +Mannering's arm.</p> + +<p>"You see those yellow sandhills beyond the marshes there? Behind them is +the sea. Do you catch that breath of wind? Take off your hat, man, and +get it into your lungs. It comes from the North Sea, salt and fresh and +sweet. I think that it is the purest thing on earth. You can walk here +for miles and miles in the open, and the wind is like God's own music. +Borrowdean, I am going to say things to you which one says but once or +twice in his life. I came to this country a soured man, cynical, a +pessimist, a materialist by training and environment. To-day I speak of a +God with bowed head, for I believe that somewhere behind all these +beautiful things their prototype must exist. Don't think I've turned +ranter. I've never spoken like this to any one else before, and I don't +suppose I ever shall again. Here is Nature, man, the greatest force on +earth, the mother, the mistress, beneficent, wonderful! You are a +creature of cities. Stay with me here for a day or two, and the joy of +all these things will steal into your blood. You, too, will know what +peace is."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean, as though unconsciously, straightened himself. If no colour +came to his cheeks, the light of battle was at least in his eyes. This +man was speaking heresies. The words sprang to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Peace!" he exclaimed, scornfully. "Peace is for the dead. The last +reward perhaps of a breaking heart. The life effective, militant, is +the only possible existence for men. Pull yourself together, Mannering, +for Heaven's sake. Yours is the <i>faineant</i> spirit of the decadent, +masquerading in the garb of a sham primitivism. Were you born into the +world, do you think, to loiter through life an idle worshipper at the +altar of beauty? Who are you to dare to skulk in the quiet places, whilst +the battle of life is fought by others?"</p> + +<p>Another lark had risen almost from their feet, and, circling its way +upwards, was breaking into song. And below, the full spring tide was +filling the pools and creeks with the softly flowing, glimmering +sea-water. The fishing boats, high and dry an hour ago, were passing now +seaward along the silvery way. All these things Mannering was watching +with rapt eyes, even whilst he listened to his companion.</p> + +<p>"Dear friend," he said, "the world can get on very well without me, and +I have no need of the world. The battle that you speak of—well, I have +been in the fray, as you know. The memory of it is still a nightmare to +me."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean had the appearance of a man who sought to put a restraint upon +his words. He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke very +deliberately.</p> + +<p>"Mannering," he said, "do not think me wholly unsympathetic. There is a +side of me which sympathises deeply with every word which you have said. +And there is another which forces me to remind you again, and again, that +we men were never born to linger in the lotos lands of the world. You do +not stand for yourself alone. You exist as a unit of humanity. Think of +your responsibilities. You have found for yourself a beautiful corner of +the world. That is all very well for you, but how about the rest? How +about the millions who are chained to the cities that they may earn their +living pittance, whose wives and children fill the churchyards, the +echoes of whose weary, never-ceasing cry must reach you even here? They +are the people, the sufferers, fellow-links with you in the chain of +humanity. You may stand aloof as you will, but you can never cut yourself +wholly away from the great family of your fellows. You may hide from your +responsibilities, but the burden of them will lie heavy upon your +conscience, the poison will penetrate sometimes into your most jealously +guarded paradise. We are of the people's party, you and I, Mannering, and +I tell you that the tocsin has sounded. We need you!"</p> + +<p>A shadow had fallen upon Mannering's face. Borrowdean was in earnest, and +his appeal was scarcely one to be treated lightly. Nevertheless, +Mannering showed no sign of faltering, though his tone was certainly +graver.</p> + +<p>"Leslie," he said, "you speak like a prophet, but believe me, my mind is +made up. I have taken root here. Such work as I can do from my study is, +as it always has been, at your service. But I myself have finished with +actual political life. Don't press me too hard. I must seem churlish and +ungrateful, but if I listened to you for hours the result would be the +same. I have finished with actual political life."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shrugged his shoulders despairingly. Such a man was hard to +deal with.</p> + +<p>"Mannering," he protested, "you must not, you really must not, send me +away like this. You speak of your written work. Don't think that I +underestimate it because I have not alluded to it before. I myself +honestly believe that it was those wonderful articles of yours in the +<i>Nineteenth Century</i> which brought back to a reasonable frame of mind +thousands who were half led away by the glamour of this new campaign. You +kindled the torch, my friend, and you must bear it to victory. You bring +me to my last resource. If you will not serve under Rochester, come +back—and Rochester will serve under you when the time comes."</p> + +<p>Mannering shook his head slowly.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could convince you," he said, "once and for all, that my +refusal springs from no such reasons as you seem to imagine. I would +sooner sit here, with a volume of Pater or Meredith, and this west wind +blowing in my face, than I would hear myself acclaimed Prime Minister of +England. Let us abandon this discussion once and for all, Borrowdean. We +have arrived at a cul-de-sac, and I have spoken my last word."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean threw his half-finished cigarette into the ever-widening creek +below. It was characteristic of the man that his face showed no sign of +disappointment. Only for several moments he kept silence.</p> + +<p>"Come," Mannering said at last. "Let us make our way back to the house. +If you are resolved to get back to town to-night, we ought to be thinking +about luncheon."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," Borrowdean said. "I must return."</p> + +<p>They started to walk inland, but they had taken only a few steps when +they both, as though by a common impulse, stopped. An unfamiliar sound +had broken in upon the deep silence of this quiet land. Borrowdean, who +was a few paces ahead, pointed to the bend in the road below, and turned +towards his companion with a little gesture of cynical amusement.</p> + +<p>"Behold," he exclaimed, "the invasion of modernity. Even your +time-forgotten paradise, Mannering, has its civilizations, then. What an +anachronism!"</p> + +<p>With a cloud of dust behind, and with the sun flashing upon its polished +metal parts, a motor car swung into sight, and came rushing towards them. +Borrowdean, always a keen observer of trifles, noticed the change in +Mannering's face.</p> + +<p>"It is a neighbour of mine," he remarked. "She is on her way to the golf +links."</p> + +<p>"Golf links!" Borrowdean exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Mannering nodded.</p> + +<p>"Behind the sandhills there," he remarked.</p> + +<p>There was a grinding of brakes. The car came to a standstill below. A +woman, who sat alone in the back seat, raised her veil and looked +upwards.</p> + +<p>"Am I late?" she asked. "Clara has gone on—they told me!"</p> + +<p>She had addressed Mannering, but her eyes seemed suddenly drawn to +Borrowdean. As though dazzled by the sun, she dropped her veil. +Borrowdean was standing as though turned to stone, perfectly rigid and +motionless. His face was like a still, white mask.</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry," Mannering said, "but I have had a most unexpected visit +from an old friend. May I introduce Sir Leslie Borrowdean—Mrs. +Handsell!"</p> + +<p>The lady in the car bent her head, and Borrowdean performed an automatic +salute. Mannering continued:</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that I must throw myself upon your mercy! Sir Leslie insists +upon returning this afternoon, and I am taking him back for an early +luncheon. You will find Clara and Lindsay at the golf club. May we have +our foursome to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly! I will not keep you for a moment. I must hurry now, or the +tide will be over the road."</p> + +<p>She motioned the driver to proceed, but Borrowdean interposed.</p> + +<p>"Mannering," he said, "I am afraid that the poison of your lotos land is +beginning to work already. May I stay until to-morrow and walk round with +you whilst you play your foursome? I should enjoy it immensely."</p> + +<p>Mannering looked at his friend for a moment in amazement. Then he laughed +heartily.</p> + +<p>"By all means!" he answered. "Our foursome stands, then, Mrs. Handsell. +This way, Borrowdean!"</p> + +<p>The two men turned once more seaward, walking in single file along the +top of the grassy bank. The woman in the car inclined her head, and +motioned the driver to proceed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE WOMAN WITH AN ALIAS</h3> + + +<p>Borrowdean seemed after all to take but little interest in the game. He +walked generally, some distance away from the players, on the top of the +low bank of sandhills which fringed the sea. He was one of those men whom +solitude never wearies, a weaver of carefully thought-out schemes, no +single detail of which was ever left to chance or impulse. Such moments +as these were valuable to him. He bared his head to the breeze, stopped +to listen to the larks, watched the sea-gulls float low over the lapping +waters, without paying the slightest attention to any one of them. The +instinctive cunning which never deserted him led him without any +conscious effort to assume a pleasure in these things which, as a matter +of fact, he found entirely meaningless. It led him, too, to choose a +retired spot for those periods of intensely close observation to which he +every now and then subjected his host and the woman who was now his +partner in the game. What he saw entirely satisfied him. Yet the way was +scarcely clear.</p> + +<p>They caught him up near one of the greens, and he stood with his hands +behind him, and his eyeglass securely fixed, gravely watching them +approach and put for the hole. To him the whole performance seemed +absolutely idiotic, but he showed no sign of anything save a mild and +genial interest. Clara, Mannering's niece, who was immensely impressed +with him, lingered behind.</p> + +<p>"Don't you really care for any games at all, Sir Leslie?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I know that you think me a barbarian," he remarked, smiling.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," she declared, "that is probably what you think us. I +suppose they are really a waste of time when one has other things to do! +Only down here, you see, there is nothing else to do."</p> + +<p>He looked at her thoughtfully. He had never yet in his life spoken half a +dozen words with man, woman or child without wondering whether they might +not somehow or other contribute towards his scheme of life. Clara +Mannering was pretty, and no doubt foolish. She lived alone with her +uncle, and possibly had some influence over him. It was certainly worth +while.</p> + +<p>"I do not know you nearly well enough, Miss Mannering," he said, smiling, +"to tell you what I really think. But I can assure you that you don't +seem a barbarian to me at all."</p> + +<p>She was suddenly grave. It was her turn to play a stroke. She examined +the ball, carefully selected a club from her bag, and with a long, easy +swing sent it flying towards the hole.</p> + +<p>"Wonderful!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what you are thinking," she insisted.</p> + +<p>"That if I played golf," he answered, "I should like to be able to play +like that."</p> + +<p>"But you must have played games sometimes," she insisted.</p> + +<p>"When I was at Eton—" he murmured.</p> + +<p>Mannering looked back, smiling.</p> + +<p>"He was in the Eton Eleven, Clara, and stroked his boat at college. Don't +you believe all he tells you."</p> + +<p>"I shall not believe another word," she declared.</p> + +<p>"I hope you don't mean it," he protested, "or I must remain dumb."</p> + +<p>"You want to go off and tramp along the ridges by yourself," she +declared. "Confess!"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," he answered, "I should like to carry that bag for you +and hand out the—er—implements."</p> + +<p>She unslung it at once from her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You have rushed upon your fate," she said. "Now let me fasten it for +you."</p> + +<p>"Is there any remuneration?" he inquired, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"You mercenary person! Stand still now, I am going to play. Well, what do +you expect?"</p> + +<p>"I am not acquainted with the usual charges," he answered, "but to judge +from the weight of the clubs—"</p> + +<p>"Give me them back, then," she cried.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he declared, firmly, "would induce me to relinquish them. +I will leave the matter of remuneration entirely in your hands. I am +convinced that you have a generous disposition."</p> + +<p>"The usual charge," she remarked, "is tenpence, and twopence for lunch."</p> + +<p>"I will take it in kind!" he said.</p> + +<p>She laughed gaily.</p> + +<p>"Give me a mashie, please."</p> + +<p>He peered into the bag.</p> + +<p>"Which of these clubs now," he asked, "rejoices in that weird name?"</p> + +<p>She helped herself, and played her shot.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't think," she said, firmly, "of paying the full price to a +caddie who doesn't know what a mashie is."</p> + +<p>"I will be thankful," he murmured, "for whatever you may give me—even if +it should be that carnation you are wearing."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"It is worth more than tenpence," she said.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps by extra diligence," he suggested, "I might deserve a little +extra. By the bye, why does your partner, Mr. Lindsay, isn't it, walk by +himself all the time?"</p> + +<p>"He probably thinks," she answered, demurely, "that I am too familiar +with my caddie."</p> + +<p>"You will understand," he said, earnestly, "that if my behaviour is not +strictly correct it is entirely owing to ignorance. I have no idea as to +the exact position a caddie should take up."</p> + +<p>"What a pity you are going away so soon," she said. "I might have given +you lessons."</p> + +<p>"Don't tempt me," he begged. "I can assure you that without me the +constitution of this country would collapse within a week."</p> + +<p>She looked at him—properly awed.</p> + +<p>"What a wonderful person you are!"</p> + +<p>"I am glad," he said, meekly, "that you are beginning to appreciate me."</p> + +<p>"As a caddie," she remarked, "you are not, I must confess, wholly +perfect. For instance, your attention should be entirely devoted to the +person whose clubs you are carrying, instead of which you talk to me and +watch Mrs. Handsell."</p> + +<p>He was almost taken aback. For a pretty girl she was really not so much +of a fool as he had thought her.</p> + +<p>"I deny it <i>in toto</i>!" he declared.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but I know you," she answered. "You are a politician, and you would +deny anything. Don't you think her very handsome?"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean gravely considered the matter, which was in itself a somewhat +humorous thing. Slim and erect, with a long, graceful neck, and a +carriage of the head which somehow suggested the environment of a court, +Mrs. Handsell was distinctly, even from a distance, a pleasant person to +look upon. He nodded approvingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is good-looking," he admitted. "Is she a neighbour of yours?"</p> + +<p>"She has taken a house within a hundred yards of ours," Clara Mannering +answered. "We all think that she is delightful."</p> + +<p>"Is she a widow?" Borrowdean asked.</p> + +<p>"I imagine so," she answered. "I have never heard her speak of her +husband. She has beautiful dresses and things. I should think she must be +very rich. Stand quite still, please. I must take great pains over this +stroke."</p> + +<p>A wild shot from Clara's partner a few minutes later resulted in a +scattering of the little party, searching for the ball. For the first +time Borrowdean found himself near Mrs. Handsell.</p> + +<p>"I must have a few words with you before I go back," he said, +nonchalantly.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill2_th.jpg"><img src="images/ill2_th.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + + +<p>"Say that you would like to try my motor car," she answered. "What do you +want here?"</p> + +<p>"I came to see Mannering."</p> + +<p>"Poor Mannering!"</p> + +<p>"It would be," he remarked, smoothly, "a mistake to quarrel."</p> + +<p>They separated, and immediately afterwards the ball was found. A little +later on the round was finished. Clara attributed her success to the +excellence of her caddie. Mrs. Handsell deplored a headache, which had +put her off her putting. Lindsay, who was in a bad temper, declined an +invitation to lunch, and rode off on his bicycle. The rest of the little +party gathered round the motor car, and Borrowdean asked preposterous +questions about the gears and the speeds.</p> + +<p>"If you are really interested," Mrs. Handsell said, languidly, "I will +take you home. I have only room for one, unfortunately, with all these +clubs and things."</p> + +<p>"I should be delighted," Borrowdean answered, "but perhaps Miss +Mannering—"</p> + +<p>"Clara will look after me," Mannering interrupted, smiling. "Try to make +an enthusiast of him, Mrs. Handsell. He needs a hobby badly."</p> + +<p>They started off. She leaned back in her seat and pulled her veil down.</p> + +<p>"Do not talk to me here," she said. "We shall have a quarter of an hour +before they can arrive."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean assented silently. He was glad of the respite, for he wanted +to think. A few minutes' swift rush through the air, and the car pulled +up before a queer, old-fashioned dwelling house in the middle of the +village. A smart maid-servant came hurrying out to assist her mistress. +Borrowdean was ushered into a long, low drawing-room, with open windows +leading out on to a trim lawn. Beyond was a walled garden bordering the +churchyard.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsell came back almost immediately. Borrowdean, turning his head +as she entered, found himself studying her with a new curiosity. Yes, she +was a beautiful woman. She had lost nothing. Her complexion—a little +tanned, perhaps—was as fresh and soft as a girl's, her smile as +delightfully full of humour as ever. Not a speck of grey in her black +hair, not a shadow of embarrassment. A wonderful woman!</p> + +<p>"The one thing which we have no time to do is to stand and look at one +another," she declared. "However, since you have tried to stare me out of +countenance, what do you find?"</p> + +<p>"I find you unchanged," he answered, gravely.</p> + +<p>"Naturally! I have found a panacea for all the woes of life. Now what do +you want down here?"</p> + +<p>"Mannering!"</p> + +<p>"Of course. But you won't get him. He declares that he has finished with +politics, and I never knew a man so thoroughly in earnest."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean smiled.</p> + +<p>"No man has ever finished with politics!"</p> + +<p>"A platitude," she declared. "As for Mannering, well, for the first few +weeks I felt about him as I suppose you do now. I know him better now, +and I have changed my mind. He is unique, absolutely unique! Do you think +that I could have existed here for nearly two months without him?"</p> + +<p>"May I inquire," Borrowdean asked, blandly, "how much longer you intend +to exist here with him?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"All my days—perhaps! He and this place together are an anchorage. Look +at me! Am I not a different woman? I know you too well, my dear Leslie, +to attempt your conversion, but I can assure you that I am—very nearly +in earnest!"</p> + +<p>"You interest me amazingly," he remarked, smiling. "May I ask, does +Mannering know you as Mrs. Handsell only?"</p> + +<p>"Of course!"</p> + +<p>"This," he continued, "is not the Garden of Eden. I may be the first, but +others will come who will surely recognize you."</p> + +<p>"I must risk it," she answered.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean swung his eyeglass backwards and forwards. All the time he was +thinking intensely.</p> + +<p>"How long have you been here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Very nearly two months," she answered. "Imagine it!"</p> + +<p>"Quite long enough for your little idyll," he said. "Come, you know what +the end of it must be. We need Mannering! Help us!"</p> + +<p>"Not I," she answered, coolly. "You must do without him for the present."</p> + +<p>"You are our natural ally," he protested. "We need your help now. You +know very well that with a slip of the tongue I could change the whole +situation."</p> + +<p>"Somehow," she said, "I do not think that you are likely to make that +slip."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" he protested. "I begin to understand Mannering's firmness now. +You are one of the ropes which hold him to this petty life—to this +philandering amongst the flower-pots. You are one of the ropes I want to +cut. Why not, indeed? I think that I could do it."</p> + +<p>"Do you want a bribe?"</p> + +<p>"I want Mannering."</p> + +<p>"So do I!"</p> + +<p>"He can belong to you none the less for belonging to us politically."</p> + +<p>"Possibly! But I prefer him here. As a recluse he is adorable. I do not +want him to go through the mill."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand his importance to us," Borrowdean declared. "This +is really no light affair. Rochester and Mellors both believe in him. +There is no limit to what he might not ask."</p> + +<p>"He has told me a dozen times," she said, "that he never means to sit in +Parliament again."</p> + +<p>"There is no reason why he should not change his mind," Borrowdean +answered. "Between us, I think that we could induce him."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she answered. "Only I do not mean to try."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could make you understand," he said impatiently, "that I am in +deadly earnest."</p> + +<p>"You threaten?"</p> + +<p>"Don't call it that."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," she declared, "I will tell him the truth myself."</p> + +<p>"That," he answered, "is all that I should dare to ask. He would come to +us to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"You used not to underrate me," she murmured, with a glance towards the +mirror.</p> + +<p>"There is no other man like Mannering," he said. "He abhors any form of +deceit. He would forgive a murderer, but never a liar."</p> + +<p>"My dear Leslie," she said, "as a friend—and a relative—"</p> + +<p>"Neither counts," he interrupted. "I am a politician."</p> + +<p>She sat quite still, looking away from him. The peaceful noises from the +village street found their way into the room. A few cows were making +their leisurely mid-day journey towards the pasturage, a baker's cart +came rattling round the corner. The west wind was rustling in the elms, +bending the shrubs upon the lawn almost to the ground. She watched them +idly, already a little shrivelled and tarnished with their endless +struggle for life.</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to be melodramatic," she said, slowly, "but you are +forcing me into a corner. You know that I am rich. You know the people +with whom I have influence. I want to purchase Lawrence Mannering's +immunity from your schemes. Can you name no price which I could pay? You +and I know one another fairly well. You are an egoist, pure and simple. +Politics are nothing to you save a personal affair. You play the game of +life in the first person singular. Let me pay his quittance."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean regarded her thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"You are a strange woman," he said. "In a few months' time, when you are +back in the thick of it all, you will be as anxious to have him there as +we are. You will not be able to understand how you could ever have wished +differently. This is rank sentiment, you know, which you have been +talking. Mannering here is a wasted power. His life is an unnatural one."</p> + +<p>"He is happy," she objected.</p> + +<p>"How do you know? Will he be as happy, I wonder, when you have gone, when +there is no longer a Mrs. Handsell? I think not! You are one of the first +to whom I should have looked for help in this matter. You owe it to us. +We have a right to demand it. For myself personally I have no life now +outside the life political. I am tired of being in opposition. I want to +hold office. One mounts the ladder very slowly. I see my way in a few +months to going up two rungs at a time. We want Mannering. We must have +him. Don't force me to make that slip of the tongue."</p> + +<p>The sound of a gong came through the open window. She rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"We are keeping them waiting for luncheon," she remarked. "I will think +over what you have said."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>WANTED—A POLITICIAN</h3> + + +<p>Sir Leslie carefully closed the iron gate behind him, and looked around.</p> + +<p>"But where," he asked, "are the roses?"</p> + +<p>Clara laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"You may be a great politician, Sir Leslie," she declared, "but you are +no gardener. Roses don't bloom out of doors in May—not in these parts at +any rate."</p> + +<p>"I understand," he assented, humbly. "This is where the roses will be."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"That wall, you see," she explained, "keeps off the north winds, and the +chestnut grove the east. There is sun here all the day long. You should +come to Blakely in two months' time, Sir Leslie. Everything is so +different then."</p> + +<p>He sighed.</p> + +<p>"You forget, my dear child," he murmured, "that you are speaking to a +slave."</p> + +<p>"A slave!" she repeated. "How absurd! You are a Cabinet Minister, are +you not, Sir Leslie?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I was once," he answered, "until an ungrateful country grew weary of the +monotony of perfect government and installed our opponents in our places. +Just now we are in opposition."</p> + +<p>"In opposition," she repeated, a little vaguely.</p> + +<p>"Meaning," he explained, "that we get all the fun, no responsibility, +and, alas, no pay."</p> + +<p>"How fascinating," she exclaimed. "Do sit down here, and tell me all +about it. But I forgot. You are not used to sitting down out of doors. +Perhaps you will catch cold."</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie smiled.</p> + +<p>"I am inclined to run the risk," he said gravely, "if you will share it. +Seriously, though, these rustic seats are rather a delusion, aren't they, +from the point of view of comfort?"</p> + +<p>"There shall be cushions," she declared, "for the next time you come."</p> + +<p>He sighed.</p> + +<p>"Ah, the next time! I dare not look forward to it. So you are interested +in politics, Miss Mannering?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I believe I am," she answered, a little doubtfully. "To tell you +the truth, Sir Leslie, I am shockingly ignorant. You must live in London +to be a politician, mustn't you?"</p> + +<p>"It is necessary," he assented, "to spend some part of your time there, +if you want to come into touch with the real thing."</p> + +<p>"Then I am very interested in politics," she declared. "Please go on."</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I would rather you talked to me about the roses. You should ask your +uncle to tell you all about politics. He knows far more than I do."</p> + +<p>"More than you! But you have been a Cabinet Minister!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"So was your uncle once," he answered. "So he could be again whenever he +chose."</p> + +<p>She looked at him incredulously.</p> + +<p>"You don't really mean that, Sir Leslie?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do!" he asserted. "There was never a man within my recollection +or knowledge who in so short a time made for himself a position so +brilliant as your uncle. There is no man to-day whose written word +carries so much weight with the people."</p> + +<p>She sighed a little doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Then if that is so," she said, "I cannot imagine why we live down here, +hundreds of miles away from everywhere. Why did he give it up? Why is he +not in Parliament now?"</p> + +<p>"It is to ask him that question, Miss Mannering," Borrowdean said, "that +I am here. No wonder it seems surprising to you. It is surprising to all +of us."</p> + +<p>She looked at him eagerly.</p> + +<p>"You mean, then, that you—that his party want him to go back?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"Assuredly!"</p> + +<p>"You have told him this?"</p> + +<p>"Of course! It was my mission!"</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie, you must tell me what he said."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean sighed.</p> + +<p>"My dear young lady," he said, "it is rather a painful subject with me +just now. Yet since you insist, I will tell you. Something has come over +your uncle which I do not understand. His party—no, it is his country +that needs him. He prefers to stay here, and watch his roses blossom."</p> + +<p>"It is wicked of him!" she declared, energetically.</p> + +<p>"It is inexplicable," he agreed. "Yet I have used every argument which +can well be urged."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must think of others," she begged. "If you knew how weary one +gets of this place—a man, too, like my uncle! How can he be content? The +monotony here is enough to drive even a dull person like myself mad. To +choose such a life, actually to choose it, is insanity!"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean raised his head. He had heard the click of the garden gate.</p> + +<p>"They are coming," he said. "I wish you would talk to your uncle like +this."</p> + +<p>"I only wish," she answered, passionately, "that I could make him feel as +I do."</p> + +<p>They entered the garden, Mannering, bareheaded, following his guest. +Borrowdean watched them closely as they approached. The woman's +expression was purely negative. There was nothing to be learned from the +languid smile with which she recognized their presence. Upon Mannering, +however, the cloud seemed already to have fallen. His eyebrows were set +in a frown. He had the appearance of a man in some manner perplexed. He +carried two telegrams, which he handed over to Borrowdean.</p> + +<p>"A boy on a bicycle," he remarked, "is waiting for answers. Two telegrams +at once is a thing wholly unheard of here, Borrowdean. You really ought +not to have disturbed our postal service to such an extent."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean smiled as he tore them open.</p> + +<p>"I think," he said, "that I can guess their contents. Yes, I thought so. +Can you send me to the station, Mannering?"</p> + +<p>"I can—if it is necessary," Mannering answered. "Must you really go?"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean nodded.</p> + +<p>"I must be in the House to-night," he said, a little wearily. "Rochester +is going for them again."</p> + +<p>"You didn't take a pair?" Mannering asked.</p> + +<p>"It isn't altogether that," Borrowdean answered, "though Heaven knows we +can't spare a single vote just now. Rochester wants me to speak. We are a +used-up lot, and no mistake. We want new blood, Mannering!"</p> + +<p>"I trust that the next election," Mannering said, "may supply you with +it. Will you walk round to the stables with me? I must order a cart for +you."</p> + +<p>"I shall be glad to," Borrowdean answered.</p> + +<p>They walked side by side through the chestnut grove. Borrowdean laid his +hand upon his friend's arm.</p> + +<p>"Mannering," he said, slowly, "am I to take it that you have spoken your +last word? I am to write my mission down a failure?"</p> + +<p>"A failure without doubt, so far as regards its immediate object," +Mannering assented. "For the rest, it has been very pleasant to see you +again, and I only wish that you could spare us a few more days."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shook his head.</p> + +<p>"We are better apart just now, Mannering," he said, "for I tell you +frankly that I do not understand your present attitude towards life—your +entire absence of all sense of moral responsibility. Are you indeed +willing to be written down in history as a philanderer in great things, +to loiter in your flower gardens, whilst other men fight the battle of +life for you and your fellows? Persist in your refusal to help us, if you +will, Mannering, but before I go you shall at least hear the truth."</p> + +<p>Mannering smiled.</p> + +<p>"Be precise, my dear friend. I shall hear your view of the truth!"</p> + +<p>"I do not accept the correction," Borrowdean answered, quickly. "There +are times when a man can make no mistake, and this is one of them. You +shall hear the truth from me this afternoon, and when your days here have +been spun out to their limit—your days of sybaritic idleness—you shall +hear it again, only it will be too late. You are fighting against Nature, +Mannering. You were born to rule, to be master over men. You have that +nameless gift of genius—power—the gift of swaying the minds and hearts +of your fellow men. Once you accepted your destiny. Your feet were firmly +planted upon the great ladder. You could have climbed—where you would."</p> + +<p>A curious quietness seemed to have crept over Mannering. When he +answered, his voice seemed to rise scarcely above a whisper.</p> + +<p>"My friend," he said, "it was not worth while!"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean was almost angry.</p> + +<p>"Not worth while," he repeated, contemptuously. "Is it worth while, then, +to play golf, to linger in your flower gardens, to become a dilettante +student, to dream away your days in the idleness of a purely enervating +culture? What is it that I heard you yourself say once—that life apart +from one's fellows must always lack robustness. You have the instincts of +the creator, Mannering. You cannot stifle them. Some day the cry of the +world to its own children will find its echo in your heart, and it may be +too late. For sooner or later, my friend, the place of all men on earth +is filled."</p> + +<p>For a moment that somewhat cynical restraint which seemed to divest of +enthusiasm Borrowdean's most earnest words, and which militated somewhat +against his reputation as a public speaker, seemed to have fallen from +him. Mannering, recognizing it, answered him gravely enough, though with +no less decision.</p> + +<p>"If you are right, Borrowdean," he said, "the suffering will be mine. +Come, your time is short now. Perhaps you had better make your adieux to +my niece and Mrs. Handsell."</p> + +<p>They all came out into the drive to see him start. A curious change had +come over the bright spring day. A grey sea-fog had drifted inland, the +sunlight was obscured, the larks were silent. Borrowdean shivered a +little as he turned up his coat-collar.</p> + +<p>"So Nature has her little caprices, even—in paradise!" he remarked.</p> + +<p>"It will blow over in an hour," Mannering said. "A breath of wind, and +the whole thing is gone."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean's farewells were of the briefest. He made no further allusion +to the object of his visit. He departed as one who had been paying an +afternoon call more or less agreeable. Clara waved her hand until he was +out of sight, then she turned somewhat abruptly round and entered the +house. Mannering and Mrs. Handsell remained for a few moments in the +avenue, looking along the road. The sound of the horse's feet could still +be heard, but the trap itself was long since invisible.</p> + +<p>"The passing of your friend," she remarked, quietly, "is almost +allegorical. He has gone into the land of ghosts—or are we the ghosts, +I wonder, who loiter here?"</p> + +<p>Mannering answered her without a touch of levity. He, too, was unusually +serious.</p> + +<p>"We have the better part," he said. "Yet Borrowdean is one of those men +who know very well how to play upon the heartstrings. A human being is +like a musical instrument to him. He knows how to find out the harmonies +or strike the discords."</p> + +<p>She turned away.</p> + +<p>"I am superstitious," she murmured, with a little shiver. "I suppose that +it is this ghostly mist, and the silence which has come with it. Yet I +wish that your friend had stayed away from Blakely!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Upstairs from her window Clara also was gazing along the road where +Borrowdean had disappeared. And Borrowdean himself was puzzling over a +third telegram which Mannering had carelessly passed on to him with his +own, and which, although it was clearly addressed to Mannering, he had, +after a few minutes' hesitation, opened. It had been handed in at the +Strand Post-office.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I must see you this week.—Blanche."</p></div> + +<p>A few hours later, on his arrival in London, Borrowdean repeated this +message to Mannering from the same post-office, and quietly tearing up +the original went down to the House.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell," he reported to his chief, "whether we have succeeded or +not. In a fortnight or less we shall know."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE DUCHESS ASKS A QUESTION</h3> + + +<p>Clara stepped through the high French window, and with skirts a little +raised crossed the lawn. Lindsay, who was following her, stopped to +light a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"We're getting frightfully modern," she remarked, turning and waiting for +him. "Mrs. Handsell and I ought to have come out here, and you and uncle +ought to have stayed and yawned at one another over the dinner-table."</p> + +<p>"You have an excellent preceptress—in modernity," he remarked. "May I?"</p> + +<p>"If you mean smoke, of course you may," she answered. "But you may not +say or think horrid things about my best friend. She's a dear, wonderful +woman, and I'm sure uncle has not been like the same man since she came."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you appreciate that," he answered. "Do you honestly think he's +any the better for it?"</p> + +<p>"I think he's immensely improved," she answered. "He doesn't grub about +by himself nearly so much, and he's had his hair cut. I'm sure he looks +years younger."</p> + +<p>"Do you think that he seems quite as contented?"</p> + +<p>"Contented!" she repeated, scornfully. "That's just like you, Richard. He +hasn't any right to be contented. No one has. It is the one absolutely +fatal state."</p> + +<p>He stretched himself out upon, the seat, and frowned.</p> + +<p>"You're picking up some strange ideas, Clara," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"Well, if I am, that's better than being contented to all eternity with +the old ones," she replied. "Mrs. Handsell is doing us all no end of +good. She makes us think! We all ought to think, Richard."</p> + +<p>"What on earth for?"</p> + +<p>"You are really hopeless," she murmured. "So bucolic—"</p> + +<p>"Thanks," he interrupted. "I seem to recognize the inspiration. I hate +that woman."</p> + +<p>"My dear Richard!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Well, I do!" he persisted. "When she first came she was all right. That +fellow Borrowdean seems to have done all the mischief."</p> + +<p>"Poor Sir Leslie!" she exclaimed, demurely. "I thought him so +delightful."</p> + +<p>"Obviously," he replied. "I didn't. I hate a fellow who doesn't do things +himself, and has a way of looking on which makes you feel a perfect +idiot. Neither Mr. Mannering nor Mrs. Handsell—nor you—have been the +same since he was here."</p> + +<p>"I gather," she said, softly, "that you do not find us improved."</p> + +<p>"I do not," he answered, stolidly. "Mrs. Handsell has begun to talk to +you now about London, of the theatres, the dressmakers, Hurlingham, +Ranelagh, race meetings, society, and all that sort of rot. She talks of +them very cleverly. She knows how to make the tinsel sparkle like real +gold."</p> + +<p>She laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"You are positively eloquent, Richard," she declared. "Do go on!"</p> + +<p>"Then she goes for your uncle," he continued, without heeding her +interruption. "She speaks of Parliament, of great causes, of ambition, +until his eyes are on fire. She describes new pleasures to you, and you +sit at her feet, a mute worshipper! I can't think why she ever came here. +She's absolutely the wrong sort of woman for a quiet country place like +this. I wish I'd never let her the place."</p> + +<p>"You are a very foolish person," she answered. "She came here simply +because she was weary of cities and wanted to get as far away from them +as possible. Only last night she said that she would be content never to +breathe the air of a town again."</p> + +<p>Lindsay tossed his cigarette away impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know exactly her way of saying that sort of thing!" he exclaimed. +"A moment later she would be describing very cleverly, and a little +regretfully, some wonderful sight or other only to be found in London."</p> + +<p>"Really," she declared, "I am getting afraid of you. You are more +observant than I thought."</p> + +<p>"There is one gift, at least," he answered, "which we country folk are +supposed to possess. We know truth when we see it. But I am saying more +than I have any right to. I don't want to make you angry, Clara!"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"You won't do that," she said. "But I don't think you quite understand. +Let me tell you something. You know that I am an orphan, don't you? I do +not remember my father at all, and I can only just remember my mother. I +was brought up at a pleasant but very dreary boarding-school. I had very +few friends, and no one came to see me except my uncle, who was always +very kind, but always in a desperate hurry. I stayed there until I was +seventeen. Then my uncle came and fetched me, and brought me straight +here. Now that is exactly what my life has been. What do you think of +it?"</p> + +<p>"Very dull indeed," he answered, frankly.</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"I have never been in London at all," she continued. "I really only know +what men and women are like from books, or the one or two types I have +met around here. Now, do you think that that is enough to satisfy one? Of +course it is very beautiful here, I know, and sometimes when the sun is +shining and the birds singing and the sea comes up into the creeks, +well, one almost feels content. But the sun doesn't always shine, +Richard, and there are times when I am right down bored, and I feel as +though I'd love to draw my allowance from uncle, pack my trunk, and go up +to London, on my own!"</p> + +<p>He laughed. Somehow all that she had said had sounded so natural that +some part of his uneasiness was already passing away.</p> + +<p>"Yours," he admitted, "is an extreme case. I really don't know why your +uncle has never taken you up for a month or so in the season."</p> + +<p>"We have lived here for four years," she said, "and he has never once +suggested it. He goes himself, of course, sometimes, but I am quite sure +that he doesn't enjoy it. For days before he fidgets about and looks +perfectly miserable, and when he comes back he always goes off for a long +walk by himself. I am perfectly certain that for some reason or other +he hates going. Yet he seems to have been everywhere, to know every one. +To hear him talk with Mrs. Handsell is like a new Arabian Nights to me."</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"Your uncle was a very distinguished man," he said. "I was only at +college then, but I remember what a fuss there was in all the papers when +he resigned his seat."</p> + +<p>"What did they say was the reason?" she asked, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"A slight disagreement with Lord Rochester, and ill-health."</p> + +<p>"Absurd!" she exclaimed. "Uncle is as strong as a horse."</p> + +<p>"Would you like him," he asked, "to go back into political life?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>"Of course I should."</p> + +<p>"You may have your wish," he said, a little sadly. "I don't fancy he has +been quite the same man since Sir Leslie Borrowdean was here, and Mrs. +Handsell never leaves him alone for a moment."</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>"You talk as though they were conspirators!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"That is precisely what I believe them to be," he answered, grimly.</p> + +<p>"Richard!"</p> + +<p>"Can't help it," he declared. "I will tell you something that I have no +right to tell you. Mrs. Handsell is not your friend's real name."</p> + +<p>"Richard, how exciting!" she exclaimed. "Do tell me how you know."</p> + +<p>"Her solicitors told mine so when she took the farm."</p> + +<p>"Not her real name? But—I wonder they let it to her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, her references were all right," he answered. "My people saw to that. +I do not mean to insinuate for a moment that she had any improper reasons +for calling herself Mrs. Handsell, or anything else she liked. The +explanations given were quite satisfactory. But she has become very +friendly with you and with your uncle, and I think that she ought to have +told you both about it."</p> + +<p>"Do you know her real name?"</p> + +<p>"No! It is not my affair. My solicitors knew, and they were satisfied. +Perhaps I ought not to have told you this, but—"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she said. "They are coming out. If you like you can take me down +to the orchard wall, and we will watch the tide come in—"</p> + +<p>Mannering came out alone and looked around. The full moon was creeping +into the sky. The breath of wind which shook the leaves of the tall elm +trees that shut in his little demesne from the village, was soft, and, +for the time of year, wonderfully mild. Below, through the orchard trees, +were faint visions of the marshland, riven with creeks of silvery sea. He +turned back towards the room, where red-shaded lamps still stood upon the +white tablecloth, a curiously artificial daub of color after the +splendour of the moonlit land.</p> + +<p>"The night is perfect," he exclaimed. "Do you need a wrap, or are you +sufficiently acclimatized?"</p> + +<p>She came out to him, tall and slender in her black dinner gown, the +figure of a girl, the pale, passionate face of a woman, to whom every +moment of life had its own special and individual meaning. Her eyes were +strangely bright. There was a tenseness about her manner, a restraint in +her tone, which seemed to speak of some emotional crisis. She passed out +into the quiet garden, in itself so exquisitely in accordance with this +sleeping land, and even Mannering was at once conscious of some alien +note in these old-world surroundings which had long ago soothed his +ruffled nerves into the luxury of repose.</p> + +<p>"A wrap!" she murmured. "How absurd! Come and let us sit under the cedar +tree. Those young people seem to have wandered off, and I want to talk to +you."</p> + +<p>"I am content to listen," he answered. "It is a night for listeners, +this!"</p> + +<p>"I want to talk," she continued, "and yet—the words seem difficult. +These wonderful days! How quickly they seem to have passed."</p> + +<p>"There are others to follow," he answered, smiling. "That is one of the +joys of life here. One can count on things!"</p> + +<p>"Others for you!" she murmured. "You have pitched your tent. I came here +only as a wanderer."</p> + +<p>"But scarcely a month ago," he exclaimed, "you too—"</p> + +<p>"Don't!" she interrupted. "A month ago it seemed to me possible that +I might live here always. I felt myself growing young again. I believed +that I had severed all the ties which bound me to the days which have +gone before. I was wrong. It was the sort of folly which comes to one +sometimes, the sort of folly for which one pays."</p> + +<p>His face was almost white in the moonlight. His deep-set grey eyes were +fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>"You were content—a month ago," he said. "You have been in London for +two days, and you have come back a changed woman. Why must you think of +leaving this place? Why need you go at all?"</p> + +<p>"My friend," she said, softly, "I think that you know why. It is very +beautiful here, and I have never been happier in all my life. But one may +not linger all one's days in the pleasant places. One sleeps through the +nights and is rested, but the days—ah, they are different."</p> + +<p>"I cannot reason with you," he said. "You are too vague. Yet—you say +that you have been contented here."</p> + +<p>"I have been happy," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Then you must speak more plainly," he insisted, a note of passion +throbbing in his hoarse tones. "I ask you again—why do you talk of going +back, like a city slave whose days of holiday are over? What is there in +the world more beautiful than the gifts the gods shower on us here? We +have the sun, and the sea, and the wind by day and by night—this! It is +the flower garden of life. Stay and pluck the roses with me."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my friend," she murmured, "if that were possible!"</p> + +<p>She sank down into the seat under the cedar tree. Her hands were clasped +nervously together, her head was downcast.</p> + +<p>"Your words," she continued, her voice sinking almost to a whisper, yet +lacking nothing in distinctness, "are like wine. They mount to the head, +they intoxicate, they tempt! And yet all the time one knows that it is +not possible. Surely you yourself—in your heart—must know it!"</p> + +<p>"Not I!" he answered, fiercely. "The world would have claimed me if +it could, but I laughed at it. Our destinies are our own. With our own +fingers we mould and shape them."</p> + +<p>"There is the little voice," she said, "the little voice, which rings +even through our dreams. Life—actual, militant life, I mean—may have +its vulgarities, its weariness and its disappointments, but it is, after +all, the only place for men and women. The battle may be sordid, and the +prizes tinsel—yet it is only the cowards who linger without."</p> + +<p>"Then let you and me be cowards," he answered. "We shall at least be +happy."</p> + +<p>She shook her head a little sadly.</p> + +<p>"I doubt it," she answered. "Happiness is a gift, not a prize. It comes +seldom enough to those who seek it."</p> + +<p>He laughed scornfully.</p> + +<p>"I am not a seeker," he cried. "I possess. It seems to me that all the +beautiful things of life are here to-night. Listen! Do you hear the sea, +the full tide sweeping softly up into the land, a long drawn out +undernote of breathless harmonies, the rustling of leaves there in the +elm trees, the faint night wind, like the murmuring of angels? Lift your +head! Was there anything ever sweeter than the perfume from that hedge of +honeysuckle? What can a man want more than these things—and—"</p> + +<p>"Go on!"</p> + +<p>"And the woman he loves! There, I have said it. Useless words enough! You +know very well that I love you. I meant to have said nothing just yet, +but who could help it—on such a night as this! Don't talk of going away, +Berenice. I want you here always."</p> + +<p>She held herself away from him. Her face was deathly white now. Her eyes +questioned him fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Before I answer you. You were in London last week?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I had business."</p> + +<p>"In Chelsea, in Merton Street?"</p> + +<p>He gave a little gasp.</p> + +<p>"What do you know about that?" he asked, almost roughly.</p> + +<p>"You were seen there, not for the first time. The person whom you +visited—I have heard about. She is somewhat notorious, is she not?"</p> + +<p>He was very quiet, pale to the lips. A strange, hunted expression had +crept into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I want to know what took you there. Am I asking too much? Remember that +you have asked me a good deal."</p> + +<p>"Has Borrowdean anything to do with this?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I have known Sir Leslie Borrowdean for many years," she answered, "and +it is quite true that we have discussed certain matters—concerning you."</p> + +<p>"You have known Sir Leslie Borrowdean for many years," he repeated. "Yet +you met here as strangers."</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie divined my wishes," she answered. "He knew that it was my +wish to spend several months away from everybody, and, if possible, +unrecognized. Perhaps I had better make my confession at once. My name +is not Mrs. Handsell. I am the Duchess of Lenchester."</p> + +<p>Mannering stood as though turned to stone. The woman watched him eagerly. +She waited for him to speak—in vain. A sudden mist of tears blinded her. +She closed her eyes. When she opened them Mannering was gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE HESITATION OF MR. MANNERING</h3> + + +<p>The peculiar atmosphere of the room, heavy with the newest perfume from +the Burlington Arcade, and the scent of exotic flowers, at no time +pleasing to him, seemed more than usually oppressive to Mannering as he +fidgetted about waiting for the woman whom he had come to see. He was +conscious of a restless longing to open wide the windows, take the +flowers from their vases, throw them into the street, and poke out the +fire. The little room, with all its associations, its almost pathetic +attempts at refinement, its furniture which reeked of the Tottenham Court +Road, was suddenly hateful to him. He detested his presence there, and +its object. He was already in a state of nervous displeasure when the +door opened.</p> + +<p>The girl who entered seemed in a sense as ill in accord with such +surroundings as himself. She was plainly dressed in black, her hair +brushed back, her complexion pale, her eyes brilliant with a not +altogether natural light. She regarded him with a curious mixture of fear +and welcome. The latter, however, triumphed easily. She came towards him +with out-stretched hand and a delightful smile.</p> + +<p>"You;—so soon again!" she exclaimed. "Were there—so many mistakes?"</p> + +<p>Mannering's face softened. He was half ashamed of his irritation. He +answered her kindly.</p> + +<p>"Scarcely any, Hester," he answered. "Your typing is always excellent."</p> + +<p>Her anxiety was only half allayed.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing else wrong?" she demanded, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing whatever," he assured her. "Where is your mother?"</p> + +<p>She sat down. The light died out of her face.</p> + +<p>"Out!" she answered. "Gone to Brighton for the day. What do you want with +her?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he answered, gravely. "I only wanted to know whether we were +likely to be interrupted."</p> + +<p>"She will not be in for some time," the girl answered. "She is almost +certain to stay down there and dine."</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"Hester," he asked, "do you know any one—a man named Borrowdean? Sir +Leslie Borrowdean?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head a little doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"I have heard mother speak of him," she said.</p> + +<p>"He is a friend of hers, then?"</p> + +<p>"She met him at a supper party at the Savoy a few weeks ago," she +answered.</p> + +<p>"And since?"</p> + +<p>"I believe so! She talks about him a great deal. Why do you ask me this?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you, Hester," he said, gravely. "By the bye, do you think +that she is likely to have mentioned my name to him?"</p> + +<p>The girl flushed up to her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know! I am sorry," she faltered. "You know what mother is. If +any one asked her questions she would be more than likely to answer them. +I do hope that she has not been making mischief."</p> + +<p>He left her anxiety unrelieved. For some few moments he did not speak +at all. Already he fancied that he could see the whole pitiful little +incident—Borrowdean, diplomatic, genial, persistent, the woman a fool, +fashioned to his own making; himself the sacrifice. Yet the meaning of it +all was dark to him.</p> + +<p>She moved over to his side. Her eyes and tone were full of appeal. She +sat close to him, her long white fingers nervously interlocked.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid of you. More afraid than ever to-day," she murmured. "You +look stern, and I don't understand why you have come."</p> + +<p>"To see you, Hester," he answered, with a sudden impulse of kindness.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no!" she interrupted, choking back a little sob. "We both know so +well that it is not that. It is pity which brings you, pity and nothing +else. You know very well what a difference it makes to me. If I have your +work to do, and a letter sometimes, and see you now and then, I can bear +everything. But it is not easy. It is never easy!"</p> + +<p>"Of course it is not," he assented. "Hester, have you thought over what I +said to you last time I was here?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"What is the use of thinking?" she asked, quietly. "I could not leave +her."</p> + +<p>"You mean that she would not let you go?" Mannering asked.</p> + +<p>"No! It is not that," the girl answered. "Sometimes I think that she +would be glad. It is not that."</p> + +<p>He nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"I understand. But—"</p> + +<p>"If you understand, please do not say any more."</p> + +<p>"But I must, Hester," he persisted. "There is no one else to give you +advice. I know all that you can tell me, and I say that this is no +fitting home for you. Your mother's friends are not fit friends for you. +She has chosen her way in life, and she will not brook any interference. +You can do no good by remaining with her. On the contrary, you are doing +yourself a great deal of harm. I am old enough to be your father, child. +Wise enough, I hope, to be your adviser. You shall be my secretary, and +come and live at Blakely."</p> + +<p>A faint flush stole into her anæmic. One realized then that under +different conditions she might have been pretty. Her face was no longer +expressionless.</p> + +<p>"You are so kind," she said, softly. "I shall always like to think of +this. And yet—it is impossible."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"It is difficult to explain," she said. "But my being here makes a +difference. I found it out once when I went away for a week. Some of—of +mother's friends came to the house then whom she will not have when I am +here. If I were away altogether—oh, I can't explain, but I would not +dare to go."</p> + +<p>Mannering seemed to have much to say—and said nothing. This queer, +pale-faced girl, with her earnest eyes and few simple words, had silenced +him. She was right—right at least from her own point of view. A certain +sense of shame suddenly oppressed him. He was acutely conscious of his +only half-admitted reason for this visit. He had argued for himself. It +was his own passionate desire to free himself from associations that were +little short of loathsome which had prompted this visit. And then what he +had dreaded most of all happened. As they sat facing one another in the +silent, half-darkened room, Mannering trying to bring himself into accord +with half-admitted but repugnant convictions, she watching him +hopelessly, the tinkle of a hansom bell sounded outside. The sudden +stopping of a horse, the rattle of a latchkey, and she was in the room. +Mannering rose to his feet with a little exclamation.</p> + +<p>The woman stood and looked in upon them. She wore a pink cloth gown, a +flower-garlanded hat, a white coaching veil, beneath which her features +were indistinguishable. She brought with her a waft of strong perfume. +Her figure was a living suggestion of the struggle between maturity and +the corsetiére. Before she spoke she laughed—not altogether pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"You here again!" she exclaimed to Mannering. "Upon my word! I'm not a +ghost! Hester, go and see about some tea, and a brandy and soda. Billy +Foa brought me up on his motor, and I'm half choked with dust."</p> + +<p>The girl rose obediently and quitted the room. The woman untwisted her +veil, drew out the pins from her hat, and threw both upon the sofa. Then +she turned suddenly upon Mannering.</p> + +<p>"Look here," she said, "the last twice you've been here you seem to have +carefully chosen times when I am out. I don't understand it. It can't be +that you want to see that chit of a girl of mine. Why don't you come when +I ask you? Why do you act as though I were something to be avoided?"</p> + +<p>Mannering rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I came to-day without knowing where you were," he answered, "but I will +admit that I wished to see Hester."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"I have asked her to come and live at Blakely with my niece and myself. +She is an excellent typist, and I require a secretary."</p> + +<p>The woman looked at him angrily. Without her veil she displayed features +not in themselves unattractive, but a complexion somewhat impaired by the +use of cosmetics. The powder upon her cheeks was even then visible.</p> + +<p>"What about me?" she asked, sharply.</p> + +<p>Mannering looked her steadily in the face.</p> + +<p>"I do not think," he said, "that such a life would suit you."</p> + +<p>She was an angry woman, and she did not become angry gracefully.</p> + +<p>"You mean that I'm not good enough for you and your friends in the +country. That's what you mean, isn't it? And I should like to know, if +I'm not, whose fault it is. Tell me that, will you?"</p> + +<p>Mannering flinched, though almost imperceptibly.</p> + +<p>"I meant simply what I said," he said. "Blakely would not suit you at +all. We have few friends there, and our simple life would not attract you +in the slightest. With Hester it is different. She would have her work, +in which she takes some interest, and I believe the change would be in +every way good for her."</p> + +<p>"Well, she shan't come," the woman said, throwing herself into a chair, +and regarding him insolently. "I'm not going to live all alone—and be +talked about. Don't stare at me like that, Lawrence. I'm the child's +mother, am I not?"</p> + +<p>"It is because you are her mother," he said, quietly, "that I thought you +might be glad to find a suitable home for her."</p> + +<p>"What's good enough for me ought to be good enough for her," she +answered, doggedly.</p> + +<p>Mannering was silent for a moment. This woman seemed to belong to a +different world from that with whose denizens he was in any way familiar. +Years of isolation, and a certain epicureanism of taste, from which +necessity had never taken the fine edge, had made him a little +intolerant. He could see nothing that was not absolutely repulsive in +this woman, whose fine eyes were seeking even now to attract his +admiration. She was making the best of herself. She had chosen the +darkest corner of the room, and her pose was not ungraceful. Her skirts +were skilfully raised to show just as much as possible of her long, +slender foot, with the patent shoes and silver buckles. She knew that her +ankles were above reproach, and her dress becoming. A dozen men had paid +her compliments during the day, yet she knew that every admiring glance, +every whispered word which had come to her to-day, or for many days past, +would count for nothing if only she could pierce for a single moment the +unchanging coldness of the man who sat watching her now with the face of +a Sphynx. A slow tide of passion welled up in her heart. Was not he a man +and free, and was not she a woman? It was not much she asked from him, no +pledge, no bondage. His kindness only, she told herself, was all she +craved. She wanted him to look at her as other men looked at her. Who was +he that he should set himself on a pedestal? Perhaps he had grown shy +from the rust of his country life, the slow drifting apart from the world +of men and women. Perhaps—she rose swiftly to her feet and crossed the +room.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill3_th.jpg"><img src="images/ill3_th.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>SACRIFICE</h3> + + +<p>She leaned over him, one hand on the back of his chair, the other seeking +in vain for his.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she said, "you grow colder and more unkind every day. What +have I done to change you so? I am a foolish woman, I know, but there are +things which I cannot forget."</p> + +<p>He rose at once to his feet, and stood apart from her.</p> + +<p>"I thought," he said, "I believed that we understood one another."</p> + +<p>She laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"I am very sure that I do not understand you," she said. "And as for +you—I do not believe that you have ever understood any woman. There was +a time, Lawrence—"</p> + +<p>His impassivity was gone. He threw out his hands.</p> + +<p>"Remember," he said, "there is a promise between us. Don't break it. +Don't dare to break it!"</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously. A new idea concerning this man and his +avoidance of her crept into her mind. It was at least consoling to her +vanity, and it left her a chance. She had roused him too, at last, and +that was worth something.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she asked, moving a step towards him. "It was a foolish +promise. It has done neither of us any good. It has spoilt a part of my +life. Why should I keep silence, and let it go on to the end? Do you know +what it has made of me, this promise?"</p> + +<p>He shrank back.</p> + +<p>"Don't! I have done all I could!"</p> + +<p>"All you could!" she repeated, scornfully. "You drew a diagram of your +duty, and you have moved like a machine along the lines. You talk like a +Pharisee, Lawrence! Come! You knew me years ago! Do you find me changed? +Tell me the truth."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he admitted, "you are changed."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"You admit that. Perhaps, perhaps," she continued more slowly, "there are +things about me now of which you don't approve. My friends are a little +fast, I go out alone, I daresay people have said things. There, you see +I am very frank. I mean to be! I mean you to know that whatever I am, the +fault is yours."</p> + +<p>"You are as God or the Devil made you," he answered, hardly. "You are +what you would have become, in any case."</p> + +<p>"Lawrence!"</p> + +<p>Already he hated the memory of his words. True or not, they were spoken +to a woman who was cowering under them as under a lash. He was at a +disadvantage now. If she had met him with anger they might have cried +quits. But he had seen her wince, seen her sudden pallor, and it was not +a pleasant sight.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," he said. "I do not know quite what I am saying. You have +broken a compact which I had hoped might have lasted all our days. Let us +be better friends, if you will, but let us keep that promise which we +made to one another."</p> + +<p>"It was so many years ago," she said, in a low tone. "I am afraid to +think how many. It makes me lonely, Lawrence, to look ahead. I am afraid +of growing old!"</p> + +<p>He looked at her steadily. Yes, the signs were there. She was a +good-looking woman to-day, a handsome woman in some lights, but she had +reached the limit. It was a matter of a few years at most, and then—He +stood with his hands behind his back.</p> + +<p>"It is a fear which we must all share," he said, quietly. "The only +antidote is work."</p> + +<p>"Work!" she repeated, scornfully. "That is the man's resource. What about +us? What about me?"</p> + +<p>"It is no matter of sex," he declared. "We all make our own choice. We +are what we make of ourselves."</p> + +<p>"It is not true," she answered, bluntly. "Not with us, at any rate. We +are what our menkind make of us. Oh, what cowards you all are."</p> + +<p>"Cowards?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You do what mischief you choose, and then soothe your conscience +with platitudes. You will take hold of pleasure with both hands, but your +shoulders are not broad enough for the pack of responsibility. Don't look +at me as though I were a mile off, Lawrence, as though this were simply +an impersonal discussion. I am speaking to you—of you. You avoid me +whenever you can. I don't often get a chance of speaking to you. You +shall listen now. You live the life of a poet and a scholar, they tell +me. You live in a beautiful home, you take care that nothing ugly or +disturbing shall come near you. You are pleased with it, aren't you? You +think yourself better than other men. Well, you are making a big mistake. +A man doesn't have to answer for his own life only. He has to carry the +burden of the lives his influence has wrecked and spoilt. I know just +what you think of me. I am a middle-aged woman, clinging to my youth and +pleasures—the sort of pleasures for which you have a vast contempt. +There isn't an hour of my days of which you wouldn't disapprove. I'm not +your sort of woman at all. And yet I was all right once, Lawrence, and +what I am now—" she paused, "what I am now—"</p> + +<p>Hester came in, followed by a maid with the tea-tray. She looked from +one to the other a little anxiously. The atmosphere of the room seemed +charged with electricity. Mannering's face was grey. Her mother was +nervously crumpling into a ball her tiny lace handkerchief. Mrs. +Phillimore rose abruptly from her seat.</p> + +<p>"Have you got the brandy and soda, Hester?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I forgot it, mother," the girl answered. "Mayn't I make you +some Russian tea? I've had the lemon sliced."</p> + +<p>The woman laughed, a little unnaturally.</p> + +<p>"What a dutiful daughter," she exclaimed. "That's right! I want looking +after, don't I? I'll have the tea, Hester, but send it up to my room. I'm +going to lie down. That wretched motoring has given me a headache, and +I'm dining out to-night. Good-bye, Mr. Mannering, if I don't see you +again."</p> + +<p>She nodded, without glancing in his direction, and left the room. The +maid arranged the tea-tray and departed. Hester showed no signs of being +aware that anything unusual had happened. She made a little desultory +conversation. Mannering answered in monosyllables.</p> + +<p>When at last he put his cup down he rose to go.</p> + +<p>"You are quite sure, Hester," he said. "You have made up your mind?"</p> + +<p>She, too, rose, and came over to him.</p> + +<p>"You know that I am right," she answered, quietly. "The life you offer me +would be paradise, but I dare not even think of it. I may not do any good +here, perhaps I don't, but I can't come away."</p> + +<p>"You are a true daughter of your sex," he said, smiling. "The keynote of +your life must be sacrifice."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we are not so unwise, after all," she answered, "for I think +that there are more happy women in the world than men."</p> + +<p>"There are more, I think, who deserve to be, dear," he answered, holding +her hand for a moment. "Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>Mannering walked in somewhat abstracted fashion to the corner of the +street, and signalled for a hansom. With his foot upon the step he +hesitated.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE DUCHESS'S "AT HOME"</h3> + + +<p>"The perfect man," the Duchess murmured, as she stirred her tea, "does +not exist. I know a dozen perfect women, dear, dull creatures, and plenty +of men who know how to cover up the flaw. But there is something in the +composition of the male sex which keeps them always a little below the +highest pinnacle."</p> + +<p>"It is purely a matter of concealment," her friend declared. "Women are +cleverer humbugs than men."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I know your perfect woman!" he remarked, softly. "You search for her +through the best years of your life, and when you have found her you +avoid her. That," he added, handing his empty cup to a footman, "is why +I am a bachelor."</p> + +<p>The Duchess regarded him complacently.</p> + +<p>"My dear Sir Leslie," she said, "I am afraid you will have to find a +better reason for your miserable state. The perfect woman would certainly +have nothing to do with you if you found her."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," he declared, confidently, "I am convinced that she +would find me attractive."</p> + +<p>The Duchess shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Your theory," she declared, "is antiquated. Like and unlike do not +attract. We seek in others the qualities which we strive most zealously +to develop in ourselves. I know a case in point."</p> + +<p>"Good!" Sir Leslie remarked. "I like examples. The logic of them appeals +to me."</p> + +<p>The Duchess half closed her eyes. For a moment she was silent. She seemed +to be listening to something a long way off. Through the open windows of +her softly shaded drawing-rooms, odourous with flowers, came the rippling +of water falling from a fountain in the conservatory, the lazy hum of a +mowing machine on the lawn, the distant tinkling of a hansom bell in the +Square. But these were not the sounds which for a moment had changed her +face.</p> + +<p>"I myself," she murmured, "am an example!"</p> + +<p>A woman who had risen to go sat down again.</p> + +<p>"Do go on, Duchess!" she exclaimed. "Anything in the nature of a personal +confession is so fascinating, and you know you are such an enigma to all +of us."</p> + +<p>"Am I?" she answered, smiling. "Then I am likely to remain so."</p> + +<p>"A perfectly obvious person like myself," the woman remarked, "is always +fascinated by the unusual. But if you are really not going to give +yourself away, Duchess, I am afraid I must move on. One hates to leave +your beautifully cool rooms. Shall I see you to-night, I wonder, at +Esholt House?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps!"</p> + +<p>There were still many people in the room. Some fresh arrivals occupied +his hostess's attention, and Borrowdean, with a resigned shrug of the +shoulders, prepared to depart. He had come, hoping for an opportunity to +be alone for a few minutes with the Duchess, and himself a skilful +tactician in such small matters, he could not but admire the way she had +kept him at arm's length. And then the opportunity for a master stroke +came. A servant sought him out with a card. A man of method, he seldom +left his rooms without instructions as to where he was to be found.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman begged you to excuse his coming here, sir," the man +whispered, confidentially, "but he is returning to the country this +evening, and was anxious to see you. He is quite ready to wait your +convenience."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean held the card in his hand, scrutinizing it with impassive +face. Was this a piece of unparalleled good fortune, or simply a trick of +the fates to tempt him on to catastrophe? With that wonderful swiftness +of thought which was part of his mental equipment he balanced the +chances—and took his risk.</p> + +<p>"I should be glad," he said, looking the servant in the face, "if you +would show the gentleman up here as an ordinary visitor. I should like to +find you down stairs when I come out. You understand?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, sir," the man answered, and withdrew.</p> + +<p>Mannering had no idea whose house he was in. The address Borrowdean's +servant had given him had been simply 81, Grosvenor Square. Nevertheless, +he was conscious of a little annoyance as he followed the servant up the +broad stairs. He would much have preferred waiting until Borrowdean had +concluded his call. He remembered his grey travelling clothes, and all +his natural distaste for social amenities returned with unabated force as +he neared the reception-rooms and heard the softly modulated rise and +fall of feminine voices, the swishing of silks and muslin, the faint +perfume of flowers and scents which seemed to fill the air. At the last +moment he would have withdrawn, but his guide seemed deaf. His words +passed unheeded. His name, very softly but very distinctly, had been +announced. He had no option but to pass into the room and play the cards +which fate and his friend had dealt him.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean rose to greet his friend. Mannering, not knowing who his +hostess might be, and feeling absolutely no curiosity concerning her, +confined his attention wholly to the man whom he had come to seek.</p> + +<p>"I did not wish to disturb you here, Borrowdean," he said, quickly, "but +if your call is over, could you come away for a few minutes? I have a +matter to discuss with you."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean smiled slightly, and laid his hand upon the other's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"By all means, Mannering," he answered. "But since you have discovered +our little secret, don't you think that you had better speak to our +hostess?"</p> + +<p>Mannering was puzzled, but his eyes followed Borrowdean's slight gesture. +Berenice, who at the sound of his voice had suddenly abandoned her +conversation and risen to her feet, was within a few feet of him. A +sudden light swept into Mannering's face.</p> + +<p>"You!" he exclaimed softly.</p> + +<p>Her hands went out towards him. Borrowdean, with an almost imperceptible +movement, checked his advance.</p> + +<p>"So you see we are found out, after all, Duchess," he said, turning to +her. "You have known Mrs. Handsell, Mannering, let me present you now to +her other self. Duchess, you see that our recluse has come to his senses +at last. I must really introduce you formally: Mr. Mannering—the Duchess +of Lenchester."</p> + +<p>Berenice, arrested in her forward movement, watched Mannering's face +eagerly. So carefully modulated had been Borrowdean's voice that no word +of his had reached beyond their own immediate circle. It was as though a +silent tableau were being played out between the three, and Mannering, to +whom repression had become a habit, gave little indication of anything he +might have felt. Borrowdean's fixed smile betokened nothing but an +ordinary interest in the introduction of two friends, and the Duchess's +back was turned towards her friends. They both waited for Mannering to +speak.</p> + +<p>"This," he said, slowly, "is a surprise! I had no idea when I called to +see Borrowdean here, of the pleasure which was in store for me."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean dropped his eyeglass.</p> + +<p>"Are you serious, my dear Mannering?" he exclaimed. "Do you mean to say +that you came here—"</p> + +<p>"Only to see you," Mannering interrupted. "That you should know perfectly +well. I am sorry to hurry you out, but the few minutes' conversation +which I desired with you is of some importance, and my train leaves in +an hour. I hope that you will pardon me," he added, looking steadily at +Berenice, "if I hurry away one of your guests."</p> + +<p>She laughed quite in her natural manner.</p> + +<p>"I will forgive anything," she said, "except that you should hurry away +yourself so unceremoniously. Come and sit down near me. I want to talk to +you about Blakeley."</p> + +<p>She swept her gown on one side, disclosing a vacant place on the settee +where she had been sitting. For a second her eyes said more to him than +her courteous but half-careless words of invitation. Mannering made no +movement forward.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," he said, "but it is impossible for me to stay!"</p> + +<p>She seemed to dismiss him and the whole subject with a careless little +shrug of the shoulders, which was all the farewell she vouchsafed to +either of them. A woman who had just entered seemed to absorb her whole +attention. The two men passed out.</p> + +<p>Mannering spoke no word until they stood upon the pavement. Then he +turned almost savagely upon his companion.</p> + +<p>"This is a trick of yours, I suppose!" he exclaimed. "Damn you and your +meddling, Borrowdean. Why can't you leave me and my affairs alone? No, +I am not going your way. Let us separate here!"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shook his head.</p> + +<p>"You are unreasonable, Mannering," he said. "I have done only what I +believe you were on your way to ask me to do. I have brought you and +Berenice together again. It was for both your sakes. If there has been +any misunderstanding between you, it would be better cleared up."</p> + +<p>Mannering gripped his arm.</p> + +<p>"Let us go to your rooms, Borrowdean," he said. "It is time we understood +one another."</p> + +<p>"Willingly!" Borrowdean said. "But your train?"</p> + +<p>"Let my train go," Mannering answered. "There are some things I have to +say to you."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean called a hansom. The two men drove off together.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>THE MANNERING MYSTERY</h3> + + +<p>Borrowdean was curter than usual, even abrupt. The calm geniality of his +manner had departed. He spoke in short, terse sentences, and he had the +air of a man struggling to subdue a fit of perfectly reasonable and +justifiable anger. It was a carefully cultivated pose. He even refrained +from his customary cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mannering," he said, "there are times when a few plain words +are worth an hour's conversation. Will you have them from me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"This thing was started six months ago, soon after those two +bye-elections in Yorkshire. Even the most despondent of us then saw that +the Government could scarcely last its time. We had a meeting and we +attempted to form on paper a trial cabinet. You know our weakness. We +have to try to form a National party out of a number of men who, although +they call themselves broadly Liberals, are as far apart as the very poles +of thought. It was as much as they could do to sit in the same room +together. From the opening of the meeting until its close, there was but +one subject upon which every one was unanimous. That was the absolute +necessity of getting you to come back to our aid."</p> + +<p>"You flatter me," Mannering said, with fine irony.</p> + +<p>"You yourself," Borrowdean continued, without heeding the interruption, +"encouraged us. From the first pronouncement of this wonderful new policy +you sprang into the arena. We were none of us ready. You were! It is true +that your weapon was the pen, but you reached a great public. The country +to-day considers you the champion of Free Trade."</p> + +<p>"Pass on," Mannering interrupted, brusquely. "All this is wasted time!"</p> + +<p>"A smaller meeting," Borrowdean continued, "was held with a view of +discussing the means whereby you could be persuaded to rejoin us. At that +meeting the Duchess of Lenchester was present."</p> + +<p>Mannering, who had been pacing the room, stopped short. He grasped the +back of a chair, and turning round faced Borrowdean.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"You know what place the Duchess has held in the councils of our party +since the Duke's death," Borrowdean continued. "She has the political +instinct. If she were a man she would be a leader. All the great ladies +are on the other side, but the Duchess is more than equal to them all. +She entertains magnificently, and with tact. She never makes a mistake. +She is part and parcel of the Liberal Party. It was she who volunteered +to make the first effort to bring you back."</p> + +<p>Mannering turned his head. Apparently he was looking out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Her methods," Borrowdean continued, "did not commend themselves to us, +but beggars must not be choosers. Besides, the Duchess was in love with +her own scheme. Such objections as we made were at once overruled."</p> + +<p>He paused, but Mannering said nothing. He was still looking out of the +window, though his eyes saw nothing of the street below, or the great +club buildings opposite. A scent of roses, lost now and then in the +salter fragrance of the night breeze sweeping over the marshes, the magic +of a wonderful, white-clad presence, the low words, the sense of a world +apart, a world of speechless beauty.... What empty dreams! A palace built +in a poet's fancy upon a quicksand.</p> + +<p>"The Duchess," Borrowdean continued, "undertook to discover from you what +prospects there were, if any, of your return to political life. She took +none of us into her confidence. We none of us knew what means she meant +to employ. She disappeared. She communicated with none of us. We none of +us had the least idea what had become of her. Time went on, and we began +to get a little uneasy. We had a meeting and it was arranged that I +should come down and see you. I came, I saw you, I saw the Duchess! The +situation very soon became clear to me. Instead of the Duchess converting +you, you had very nearly converted the Duchess."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you—" Mannering began.</p> + +<p>"Let me finish," Borrowdean pleaded. "I realized the situation at a +glance. Your attitude I was not so much surprised at, but the attitude of +the Duchess, I must confess, amazed me. I came to the conclusion that I +had found my way into a forgotten corner of the world, where the lotos +flowers still blossomed, and the sooner I was out of it the better. Now I +think that brings us, Mannering, up to the present time."</p> + +<p>Mannering turned from the window, out of which he had been steadfastly +gazing. There was a strained look under his eyes, and little trace of the +tan upon his, cheeks. He had the air of a jaded and a weary man.</p> + +<p>"That is all, then," he remarked. "I can still catch my train."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "It is not all. This explanation I have made for your +sake, Mannering, and it has been a truthful and full one. Now it is my +turn. I have a few words to say to you on my own account."</p> + +<p>Mannering paused. There was a note of something unusual in Borrowdean's +voice, a portent of things behind. Mannering involuntarily straightened +himself. Something was awakened in him which had lain dormant for many +years—dormant since those old days of battle, of swift attack, of +ambushed defence and the clamour of brilliant tongues. Some of the old +light flashed in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Say it then—quickly!"</p> + +<p>"We speak of great things," Borrowdean continued, "and the catching of a +train is a trifle. My wardrobe and house are at your service. Don't hurry +me!"</p> + +<p>Mannering smiled.</p> + +<p>"Go on!" he said.</p> + +<p>"The men who count in this world," Borrowdean declared, calmly lighting +a cigarette, "are either thinkers of great thoughts or doers of great +deeds. To the former belong the poets and the sentimentalists; to the +latter the statesmen and the soldiers."</p> + +<p>"What have I done," Mannering murmured, "that I should be sent back to +kindergarten? Platitudes such as this bore me. Let me catch my train."</p> + +<p>"In a moment. To all my arguments and appeals, to all my entreaties to +you to realize yourself, to do your duty to us, to history and to +posterity, you have replied in one manner only. You have spoken from the +mushroom pedestal of the sentimentalist. Not a single word that has +fallen from your lips has rung true. You have spoken as though your eyes +were blind all the time to the letters of fire which truth has spelled +out before you. Any further argument with you is useless, because you are +not honest. You conceal your true position, and you adopt a false +defence. Therefore, I relinquish my task. You can go and grow your roses, +and think your poetry, and call it life if you will. But before you go I +should like you to know that I, at least, am not deceived. I do not +believe in you, Mannering. I ask you a question, and I challenge you to +answer it. What is your true reason for making a scrap-heap of your +career?"</p> + +<p>"Are you my friend," Mannering asked, quietly, "that you wish to pry +behind the curtain of my life? If I have other reasons they concern +myself alone."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shook his head. He had scored, but he took care to show no +sign of triumph.</p> + +<p>"The issue is too great," he said, "to be tried by the ordinary rules +which govern social life. Will you presume that I am your friend, and let +us consider the whole matter afresh together?"</p> + +<p>"I will not," Mannering answered. "But I will do this. I will answer your +question. There is another reason which makes my reappearance in public +life impossible. Not even your subtlety, Borrowdean, could remove it. I +do not even wish it removed. I mean to live my own life, and not to be +pitchforked back into politics to suit the convenience of a few +adventurous office-seekers, and the Duchess of Lenchester!"</p> + +<p>"Mannering!"</p> + +<p>But Mannering had gone.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Borrowdean felt that this was a trying day. After a battle with Mannering +he was face to face with an angry woman, to whose presence an imperious +little note had just summoned him. Berenice was dressed for a royal +dinner party, and she had only a few minutes to spare. Nevertheless she +contrived to make them very unpleasant ones for Borrowdean.</p> + +<p>"The affair was entirely an accident," he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"It was nothing of the sort," she answered, bluntly. "I know you too well +for that. Your bringing him here without warning was an unwarrantable +interference with my affairs."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean could hold his own with men, but Berenice in her own room, +a wonderful little paradise of soft colourings and luxury so perfectly +chosen that it was rather felt than seen; Berenice, in her marvellous +gown, with the necklace upon her bosom and the tiara flashing in her dark +hair, was an overwhelming opponent. Borrowdean was helpless. He could not +understand the attack itself. He failed altogether to appreciate its +tenour.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," he protested, "but I did not know that you had any plans. +All that you told us on your return from Blakely was that you had failed. +So far as you were concerned the matter seemed to me to be over, and with +it, I imagined, your interest in Mannering. I brought him here—"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Because I wished him to know who you were. I wished him to understand +the improbability of your ever again returning to Blakely."</p> + +<p>"You are telling the truth now, at any rate," she remarked, curtly, "or +what sounds like the truth. Why did you trouble in the matter at all? +Where I have failed you are not likely to succeed."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean smiled for the first time.</p> + +<p>"I have still some hopes of doing so," he admitted.</p> + +<p>The Duchess glanced at the little Louis Seize time-piece, and hesitated.</p> + +<p>"You had better abandon them," she said. "Lawrence Mannering may be +wrong, or he may be right, but he believes in his choice. He has no +ambition. You have no motive left to work upon."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shook his head.</p> + +<p>"You are wrong, Duchess," he remarked, simply. "I never believed in +Mannering's sentimentality. To-day, with his own lips, he has confessed +to me that another, an unbroached reason, stands behind his refusal!"</p> + +<p>"And he never told me," the Duchess murmured, involuntarily.</p> + +<p>"Duchess," Borrowdean answered, with a faint, cynical parting of the +lips, "there are matters which a man does not mention to the woman in +whose high opinion he aims at holding an exalted place."</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door. The Duchess's maid entered, carrying a +long cloak of glimmering lace and satin.</p> + +<p>The Duchess nodded.</p> + +<p>"I come at once, Hortense," she said, in French. "Sir Leslie," she added, +turning towards him, "you are making a great mistake, and I advise you to +be careful. You are one of those who think ill of all men. Such men as +Lawrence Mannering belong to a race of human beings of whom you know +nothing. I listened to you once, and I was a fool. You could as soon +teach me to believe that you were a saint, as that Mannering had anything +in his past or present life of which he was ashamed. Now, Hortense."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean walked off, still smiling. How simple half the world was.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE PUMPING OF MRS. PHILLIMORE</h3> + + +<p>Hester sprang to her feet eagerly as she heard the front door close, and +standing behind the curtain she watched the man, who was already upon the +pavement looking up and down the street for a hansom. His erect, +distinguished figure was perfectly familiar to her. It was Sir Leslie +Borrowdean again.</p> + +<p>She resumed her seat in front of the typewriter, and touched the keys +idly. In a few moments what she had been expecting happened. Her mother +entered the room.</p> + +<p>Of her advent there were the usual notifications. An immense rustling +of silken skirts, and an overwhelming odour of the latest Bond Street +perfume. She flung herself into a chair, and regarded her daughter with +a complacent smile.</p> + +<p>"That delightful man has been to see me again," she exclaimed. "I could +scarcely believe it when Mary brought me his card. By the bye, where is +Mary? I want her to try to take that stain out of my pink silk skirt. I +shall have to wear it to-night."</p> + +<p>"I will ring for her directly," the girl answered. "So that was Sir +Leslie Borrowdean, mother! Why did he come to see you again so soon?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't the least idea," Mrs. Phillimore announced, "but I thought +it was very sweet of him. It seems all the more remarkable when one +considers the sort of man he is. He's very ambitious, you know, and +devoted to politics."</p> + +<p>"Where did you meet him first?" Hester asked.</p> + +<p>"It was at the Metropole at Bexhill," Mrs. Phillimore answered. "We +motored down there one day, and Lena Roberts told me that she heard him +inquiring who I was directly we came into the room. He joined our party +at luncheon. Billy knew him slightly, so I made him go over and ask him."</p> + +<p>Hester nodded, and seemed to be absorbed in some trifling defect of one +of the keys of her typewriter.</p> + +<p>"Does he still ask you many questions about Mr. Mannering, mother?" she +asked, quietly.</p> + +<p>"About Mr. Mannering!" Mrs. Phillimore repeated, with raised eyebrows. +"Why, he scarcely ever mentions his name."</p> + +<p>She took up a small mirror from the table by her side, and critically +touched her hair.</p> + +<p>"About Mr. Mannering, indeed," she repeated. "Why do you ask me such a +question?"</p> + +<p>The girl hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Do you really want to know, mother?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course!"</p> + +<p>"When Mr. Mannering was here last," Hester said, "he asked me whether Sir +Leslie Borrowdean was a friend of yours. I fancy that they are political +acquaintances, but I don't think that they are on very good terms."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Phillimore laid down the mirror and yawned.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's nothing very strange about that," she declared. "Lawrence +isn't the sort to get on with many people, especially since he went and +buried himself in the country. How pale you are looking, child. Why don't +you go and take a walk, instead of hammering away at that old typewriter? +Any one would think that you had to do it for a living!"</p> + +<p>"I prefer to earn my own living," the girl answered, "and I am not in the +least tired. Tell me, are you going to see Sir Leslie Borrowdean again, +mother?"</p> + +<p>The woman on the couch smoothed her hair once more, with a smile of +gratification.</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie has asked me to join a small party of friends for dinner at +the Carlton this evening," she announced. "Why on earth are you looking +at me like that, child? You're always grumbling that my friends are a +fast lot, and don't suit you. You can't say anything against Sir Leslie."</p> + +<p>The girl had risen to her feet. The trouble in her face was manifest.</p> + +<p>"Mother," she said, slowly, "I wish that you were not going. I wish that +you would have nothing whatever to do with Sir Leslie Borrowdean."</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens!—and why not?" the woman exclaimed, suddenly sitting up.</p> + +<p>"I believe that he only asked you because he has an idea that you can +tell him—something he wants to know about Mr. Mannering," the girl +answered, steadily. "I don't think that you ought to go!"</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" her mother answered, crossly. "I don't believe that he has +such an idea in his head. As though he couldn't ask me for the sake of my +company. And if he does ask me questions, I'm not obliged to answer them, +am I? Do you think that I'm to be turned inside out like a schoolgirl?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie is very clever, and he is very unscrupulous," the girl +answered. "I wish you weren't going! I believe that he wants to find out +things."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Phillimore frowned uneasily.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a fool!" she said. "He's welcome to all he can get to know +through me. I don't know what you want to try to make me uncomfortable +for, Hester, I'm sure. Sir Leslie has never betrayed the least curiosity +about Mr. Mannering, and I don't believe that he's any such idea in his +head. Upon my word I don't see why you should think it impossible that +Sir Leslie should come here just for the sake of improving an +acquaintance which he found pleasant. That's what he gave me to +understand, and he put it very nicely too!"</p> + +<p>"I do not think that Sir Leslie is that sort of man, mother."</p> + +<p>"And I don't see how you know anything about it," was the sharp response. +"Ring the bell, please. I want to speak to Mary about my skirt."</p> + +<p>"You mean to dine with him then, mother?" she asked, crossing the room +towards the bell.</p> + +<p>"Of course! I've accepted. To-night and as often as he chooses to ask me. +Now don't upset me, please. I want to look my best to-night, and if I get +angry my hair goes all out of curl."</p> + +<p>The girl went back to her typewriter. She unfolded a sheet of copy, and +placed it on the stand before her.</p> + +<p>"If you have made up your mind, mother, I suppose you will go," she said. +"Still—I wish you wouldn't."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Phillimore shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"If I did what you wished all the time," she remarked, pettishly, "I +might as well drown myself at once. Can't you understand, Hester?" she +added, with a sudden change of manner, "that I must do something to help +me to forget? You don't want to see me go mad, do you?"</p> + +<p>The girl turned half round in her chair. She was fronting a mirror. She +caught a momentary impression of herself—pallid, hollow-eyed, weary. She +sighed.</p> + +<p>"There are other ways of forgetting," she murmured. "There is work."</p> + +<p>Her mother laughed scornfully.</p> + +<p>"You have chosen your way," she said, "let me choose mine. Turn round, +Hester."</p> + +<p>The girl obeyed her languidly. Her mother eyed her with an attention she +seldom vouchsafed to anything. Her plain black frock was ill-fitting and +worn. She wore no ribbon or jewellery or adornment of any sort. +Negatively her face was not ill-pleasing, but her figure was angular, and +her complexion almost anæmic. The woman on the couch represented other +things. She was tastefully, though somewhat elaborately dressed. She wore +chains and trinkets about her neck, rings upon her fingers, and in her +face had begun in earnest the tragic struggle between an actual forty and +presumptive twenty. She laughed again, a little hardly.</p> + +<p>"And you are my daughter," she exclaimed. "You are one of the freaks of +heredity. I'm perfectly certain you don't belong to me, and as for him—"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" the girl cried.</p> + +<p>The woman nodded.</p> + +<p>"Quite right," she said. "I didn't mean to mention him. I won't again. +But we are different, aren't we? I wonder why you stay with me. I wonder +you don't go and make a home for yourself somewhere. I know that you hate +all the things I do, and care for, and all my friends. Why don't you go +away? It would be more comfortable for both of us!"</p> + +<p>"I have no wish to go away," the girl said, softly, "and I don't think +that we interfere with one another very much, do we? This is the first +time I have ever made a remark about any—of your friends. To-night I +cannot help it. Sir Leslie Borrowdean is Mr. Mannering's enemy. I am sure +of it! That is why I do not like the idea of your going out with him. It +doesn't seem to be right—and I am afraid."</p> + +<p>"Afraid! You little idiot!"</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie Borrowdean is a very clever man," the girl said. "He is a +very clever man, and he has been a lawyer. That sort of person knows how +to ask questions—to—find out things."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" the woman remarked, sitting up on the couch. "Why do you try +to make me so uncomfortable, Hester? Sir Leslie may be very clever, but +I am not exactly a fool myself."</p> + +<p>She spoke confidently, but under the delicate coating of rouge her cheeks +had whitened.</p> + +<p>"Besides," she continued, "Sir Leslie has never even mentioned Mr. +Mannering's name in anything except the most casual way. You don't +understand everything, Hester. Of course Lena and Billy Aswell and Rothe +and all of them are all right, but they are just a little—well, you +would call it fast, and it does one good to be seen with a different set +sometimes. Sir Leslie Borrowdean and his friends are altogether +different, of course."</p> + +<p>The girl bent over her work.</p> + +<p>"No doubt, mother," she answered, "There's Mary stamping on the floor. +I expect she has your bath ready."</p> + +<p>An hour or so later Mrs. Phillimore departed in a hired brougham. +Her hair had been carefully arranged by a local expert who had an +establishment in the next street, her pink silk gown had come through the +ordeal of cleansing with remarkable success, and the heels on her new +evening shoes resembled more than anything else, miniature stilts. Her +face was wreathed in smiles, and she possessed the good conscience and +light heart of a woman who feels that she has made a successful toilette. +All the vague misgivings of a short while ago had vanished. She gave her +hair a final touch in the side window of the carriage as she drove off, +and quite forgot to wave her hand to Hester, who was standing at the +window to see her go. If any misgivings remained at all between the two, +they were not with her. She settled herself back amongst the cushions +with a little sigh of content. Sir Leslie was a most charming person, and +evidently not at all insensible to her charms. She was sure that she was +going to have a delightful evening.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Borrowdean, if he possessed no conscience, was not altogether free from +some kindred eccentricity. He was reminded sharply enough of the fact +about one o'clock the next morning, when the door of the little house on +Merton Street was suddenly opened before he could touch the bell. Framed +in a little slanting gleam of light, Hester, still wearing her plain +black gown, stood and looked at him. His careless words of explanation +died away upon his lips. The fire which flashed from her hollow eyes +seemed to wither up the very sources of speech within him. The half +lights were kind to her. He saw nothing of the hollow cheeks. The +weariness of her pose and manner had passed like magic away. She stood +there, erect as a dart, her head thrown back, a curious mixture of scorn, +of loathing, and of fear in her expression. She looked at him steadily, +and he felt his cheeks burn. He was ashamed—ashamed of himself, ashamed +of his errand.</p> + +<p>"Your mother," he said, struggling to look away from her, "is—a little +unwell. The heat of the room—"</p> + +<p>She swept down the steps and passed him. Before he could reach her side +she was tugging at the handle of the carriage door.</p> + +<p>"Mother," she cried, through the window, "undo the door!"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Phillimore made no answer. When at last the door was opened she +was discovered half asleep in a corner. Her hair was in some disorder, +and her cheeks no longer preserved that even colouring which is a result +of the artistic use of the rouge-pot. Her head was thrown back, and she +was apparently asleep. Hester stifled a sob. She took her mother by the +arm, and shook her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Phillimore sat up and smiled a sleepy smile. She made a few +incoherent remarks. They helped her into the house and into an +easy-chair, where she promptly turned her face towards the cushions and +resumed her slumber. Sir Leslie moved towards the door, then hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Miss Phillimore," he said, "I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this +should have happened."</p> + +<p>She was on her knees before her mother. She turned and rose slowly to +her feet. Sir Leslie never quite forgot her gesture as she motioned him +towards the door. It was one of the most uncomfortable moments of his +life.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill4_th.jpg"><img src="images/ill4_th.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<p>"I am afraid—"</p> + +<p>She did not speak a word, yet Sir Leslie obeyed what seemed to him more +eloquent than words. He turned and left the room and the house. Without +any change in her tense expression she waited until she heard him go. +Then she sank upon her knees on the hearthrug, and hid her face in her +hands.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE MAN WITH A MOTIVE</h3> + + +<p>Mannering sat alone in the shade of his cedar tree. He had walked in his +rose-garden amongst a wilderness of drooping blossoms, for the season of +roses was gone. He had crossed the marshland seawards, only to find a +little crowd of holiday-makers in possession of the golf links and the +green tufted stretch of sandy shore. The day had been long, almost +irksome. A fit of restlessness had driven him from his study. He seemed +to have lost all power of concentration. For once his brain had failed +him. The shadowy companions who stood ever between him and solitude +remained uninvoked. His cigar had burnt out between his fingers. He threw +it impatiently away. These were the days, the hours he dreaded.</p> + +<p>Clara came down the garden from the house, and seeing him, crossed the +lawn and sat down beside him.</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear uncle," she exclaimed, "you look almost as dull as I feel! +Let us be miserable together!"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart," he answered. "Whilst we are about it, can we invent +a cause?"</p> + +<p>"Invent!" she repeated. "I do not think we need either of us look very +far. Every one seems to have gone away whose presence made this place +endurable. Uncle, do you know when Mrs. Handsell is coming back? She +promised to write, and I have never heard a word!"</p> + +<p>Mannering turned his head. A little rustling wind had stolen in from +seaward. Above their heads flights of sea-gulls were floating out towards +the creeks. He watched them idly until they dropped down.</p> + +<p>"I do not think that she will come back at all," he said, quietly. +"I heard to-day that the place was to let again."</p> + +<p>"And Sir Leslie Borrowdean?"</p> + +<p>"I think you may take it for granted," Mannering remarked, dryly, "that +we shall see no more of him."</p> + +<p>The girl leaned back and sighed.</p> + +<p>"Uncle, what is it that makes you such a hermit?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Age, perhaps, and experience," he answered, lightly. "There are not many +people in the world, Clara, who are worth while!"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Handsell was worth while," she murmured.</p> + +<p>Mannering did not reply.</p> + +<p>"And Sir Leslie Borrowdean," she continued, "was more than just worth +while. I think that he was delightful."</p> + +<p>"Very young ladies, and very old ones," Mannering remarked, grimly, +"generally like Borrowdean."</p> + +<p>"And what about Mrs. Handsell?" she asked, with a spice of malice in her +tone.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Handsell," Mannering answered, coolly, "was a very charming woman. +Since both these people have passed out of our lives, Clara, I scarcely +see why we need discuss them."</p> + +<p>"One must talk about something," she answered. "At least I must talk, and +you must pretend to listen. I positively cannot exist in the house by +myself any longer."</p> + +<p>"Where is Richard?" Mannering asked.</p> + +<p>"Gone into Norwich to dine at the barracks with some stupid men. Not that +I mind his going," she added, hastily. "I wish he'd stay away for a +month. Of course he's a very good sort, and all that, but he's deadly +monotonous. Uncle, really, as a matter of curiosity, before I get to be +an old woman I should like to see one other young man."</p> + +<p>"Plenty on the links just now!"</p> + +<p>"I know it. I sat out near the ninth hole all this morning. There are +some Cambridge boys who looked quite nice. One of them was really +delightful when I showed him where his ball was, but I can't consider +that an introduction, can I? Heavens, who's this?"</p> + +<p>Behind the trim maid-servant already crossing the lawn, and within a few +yards of them, came a strange, almost tragical, figure. Her plain black +clothes and hat were powdered with dust, there were deep lines under her +eyes, she swayed a little when she walked, as though with fatigue. She +seemed to bring with her into the cool, quiet garden, with its country +odours and general air of peace, an alien note. One almost heard the deep +undercry from a far-away world of suffering—the great, ever-moving +wheels seemed to have caught her up and thrown her down in this most +incongruous of places. Clara, in her cool white dress, her fresh +complexion, her general air of health and girlish vigour, seemed, as she +rose to her feet, a creature of another sex, almost of another world. The +two girls exchanged for a moment wondering glances. Then Mannering +intervened.</p> + +<p>"Hester!" he exclaimed. "Why—is there anything wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing—very serious," she answered. "But I had to see you. I thought +that I had better come."</p> + +<p>He held out his hands.</p> + +<p>"You have had a tiring journey," he said. "You must come into the house +and let them find you something to eat. Clara, this is Hester Phillimore, +the daughter of an old friend of mine. Will you see about a room for her, +and lend her anything she requires?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," Clara answered. "Won't you come into the house with me?" she +added pleasantly to the girl. "You must be horribly tired travelling this +hot weather, and this is such an out-of-the-way corner of the world!"</p> + +<p>Hester lingered for a moment, glancing nervously at Mannering.</p> + +<p>"I must go back to-night," she said. "I only came because I thought that +it would be quicker than writing."</p> + +<p>"To-night?" he exclaimed. "But, my dear girl, that is impossible. There +are no trains, and you are tired out already. Go into the house with my +niece, and we will have a talk afterwards."</p> + +<p>He walked across the lawn with them, talking pleasantly to Hester, +as though her visit were in no sense of the word unpleasant, or an +extraordinary event. But when he returned to his seat under the cedar +tree his whole expression was changed. The lines about his face had +insensibly deepened. He leaned a little forward, looking with weary, +unseeing eyes into the tangled shrubbery. Had all men, he wondered, this +secret chapter in their lives—the one sore place so impossible to +forget, the cupboard of shadows never wholly closed, shadows which at any +moment might steal out and encompass his darkening life? He sat there +motionless, and his thoughts travelled backwards. There were many things +in his life which he had forgotten, but never this. Every word that had +been spoken, every detail in that tragic little scene seemed to glide +into his memory with a distinctness and amplitude which time had never +for one second dimmed. So it must be until the end. He forgot the girl +and her errand. He forgot the carefully cultivated philosophy which for +so many years had helped him towards forgetfulness. So he sat until the +sound of their voices upon the lawn recalled him to the present.</p> + +<p>"I will leave you to have your talk with uncle," Clara said. "Afterwards +I will come back to you. There he is, sitting under the cedar tree."</p> + +<p>The girl came swiftly over to his side. For a moment the compassion which +he had always felt for her swept away the memory of his own sorrow. Her +pallid, colourless face had lost everything except expression. If the +weariness, which seemed to have found a home in her eyes, was just now +absent, it was because a worse thing was shining out of them—a fear, +of which there were traces even in her hurried walk and tone. He rose at +once and held out his hands.</p> + +<p>"Come and sit down, Hester," he said, "and don't look so frightened."</p> + +<p>She obeyed him at once.</p> + +<p>"I am frightened," she said, "because I feel that I ought not to have +come here, and yet I thought that you ought to know at once what has +happened. Sir Leslie Borrowdean has been coming to see mother. Last night +he took her out to dinner. She came home—late—she was not quite +herself. This morning she was frightened and hysterical. She said—that +she had been talking."</p> + +<p>"To Sir Leslie Borrowdean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Mannering showed no signs of dismay. He took the girl's thin white hand +in his, and held it almost affectionately.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to know this at once, dear," he said, "and you did what +was right and kind when you came to see me. But Sir Leslie Borrowdean has +no reason to make himself my enemy. On the contrary, just now he seems +particularly anxious to cultivate my friendship."</p> + +<p>"Then why," the girl asked, "has he gone out of his way to—to—"</p> + +<p>Mannering stopped her.</p> + +<p>"He had a motive, of course. Borrowdean is one of those men who do +nothing without a motive. I believe that I can even guess what it is. +Don't let this thing distress you too much, Hester. I do not think that +we have anything to worry about."</p> + +<p>"But he knows!"</p> + +<p>"I could not imagine a man," Mannering answered, "better able to keep a +secret."</p> + +<p>The girl sat silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I have been an idiot," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"You have been nothing of the sort," Mannering asserted, firmly. "You +have done just what is kind, and what will help me to save the situation. +I must confess that I should not like to have been taken by surprise. You +have saved me from that. Now let us put the whole subject away for a +time. How I wish that you could stay here for a few days."</p> + +<p>The girl smiled a little piteously.</p> + +<p>"I ought not to have left her even for so long as this," she said. "I +must go back to-morrow morning by the first train."</p> + +<p>He nodded. He felt that it was useless to combat her resolution.</p> + +<p>"You and I," he said, gravely, "have both our burdens to carry. Only it +seems a little unfair that Providence should have made my back so much +the broader. Listen, Hester!"</p> + +<p>The full murmur of the sea growing louder and louder as the salt water +flowed up into the creeks betokened the change of tide. Faint wreaths of +mist were rising up from over the shadowy marshland. Above them were the +stars. He laid his hand upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Dear child!" he said, "I think that you understand how it is that the +burden, after all, is easier for me. A man may forget his troubles here, +for all the while there is this eternal background of peaceful things."</p> + +<p>Her hand stole into his.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she murmured, "I understand. Don't let them ever bring you away."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>MANNERING'S ALTERNATIVE</h3> + + +<p>Once again Mannering found himself in the over-scented, overheated room, +which was perhaps of all places in the world the one he hated the most. +Fresh from the wind-swept places of his country home, he found the +atmosphere intolerable. After a few minutes' waiting he threw open the +windows and leaned out. Hester was walking in the Square somewhere. He +had a shrewd idea that she had been sent out of the way. With a restless +impatience of her absence he awaited the interview which he dreaded.</p> + +<p>Her mother's coming took him a little by surprise. She seemed to have +laid aside all her usual customs. She entered the room quietly. She +greeted him almost nervously. She was dressed, without at any rate any +obvious attempt to attract, in a plain black gown, and with none of the +extravagances in which she sometimes delighted. Her usual boisterous +confidence of manner seemed to have deserted her. Her face, without its +skilful touches of rouge, looked thin, and almost peaked.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad that you came, Lawrence," she said. "It was very good of +you."</p> + +<p>She glanced towards the opened windows, and he closed them at once.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," he said, "that you have not been well!"</p> + +<p>There was a touch of her old self in the hardness of her low laugh.</p> + +<p>"It is remorse!" she declared. "I think that for once in my life I have +permitted myself to think! It is a great mistake. One loses confidence +when one realizes what a beast one is."</p> + +<p>He waited in silence. It seemed to him the best thing. She sat down a +little wearily. He remained standing a few feet away.</p> + +<p>"I have given you away, Lawrence," she said, quietly.</p> + +<p>"So," he remarked, "I understand."</p> + +<p>"Hester has told you, of course. I am not blaming her. She did quite +right. Only I should have told you myself. I wanted to be the first to +assure you of this. Our secret is quite safe. The man—with whom I made +a fool of myself—has given me his word of honour."</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie Borrowdean's—word of honour!" Mannering remarked, with slow +scorn. "Do you know the man, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"I know that he wishes to be your friend, and not your enemy," she said.</p> + +<p>"He chooses his friends for what they are worth to him," Mannering +answered. "It is all a matter of self-interest. He has some idea of +making me the stepping-stone to his advancement. I have a place just now +in his scheme of life. But as for friendship! Borrowdean does not know +the meaning of the word."</p> + +<p>"You speak bitterly," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"I know the man," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me," she asked, "what it is that he wants of you?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Is this worth discussing between us?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, you shall know. He wants me to re-enter political life, +to be the jackal to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for him."</p> + +<p>"To re-enter political life! And why don't you?"</p> + +<p>Mannering turned abruptly round and looked her in the face. He had been +gazing out of the window, wondering how long it would be before Hester +returned.</p> + +<p>"Why don't I!" he repeated, a little vaguely. "How can you ask me such a +question as that?"</p> + +<p>She was undisturbed. Again he marvelled at the change in her.</p> + +<p>"Is it so very extraordinary a question?" she said. "I have often +wondered whether you meant to content yourself with your present life +always. It is scarcely worthy of you, is it? You were born to other +things than to live the life of a country gentleman. You dabble in +literature, they say, and poke your stick into politics through the pages +of the reviews. Why don't you take your coat off and play the game?"</p> + +<p>Mannering was silent for several moments. He was, however, meditating his +own reply less than studying his questioner. Her attitude was amazing to +him. She watched him all the time, frowning.</p> + +<p>"You are not usually so tongue-tied," she remarked, irritably. "Have you +nothing to say to me?"</p> + +<p>"I am wondering," he said, quietly, "what has given birth to this sudden +interest in my proceedings. What does it matter to you how my days are +spent, or what manner of use I make of them?"</p> + +<p>"There was a time—" she began.</p> + +<p>"A time irretrievably past," he interrupted, shortly.</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure!" she declared, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"What has Borrowdean to do with this?" he asked her, abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Borrowdean?"</p> + +<p>"Surely! Some one has been putting notions into your head."</p> + +<p>"Why take that for granted?" she asked, equably. "The pity of the whole +thing is obvious enough, isn't it? Sometimes I think that we were a pair +of fools. We played into the hands of fate. We were brought face to face +with a terrible situation. Instead of meeting it bravely we played the +coward. Why don't you forget, Lawrence, as I have done? Take up your work +again. Set a seal upon—that memory."</p> + +<p>"I have outgrown my ambitions," he answered. "Life was hot enough in my +veins then. Desire grows cold with the years. I am content."</p> + +<p>"But I," she answered, "am not."</p> + +<p>"We each chose our life," he reminded her.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. I am not satisfied with my choice. You may be with yours."</p> + +<p>"I am."</p> + +<p>She leaned over towards him.</p> + +<p>"Once," she said, "you offered me what you called—atonement. I refused +it. Just then it seemed horrible. Now that feeling has passed away. I am +lonely, Lawrence, and I am weary of the sort of life I have been living. +Supposing I asked you to make me that offer again?"</p> + +<p>Mannering turned slowly towards her. He was not a man who easily showed +emotion, but there were traces of it now in his face. The hand which +rested on the back of his chair shook. There was in his eyes the look of +a man who sees evil things.</p> + +<p>"It is too late, Blanche," he said. "You cannot be in earnest?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she murmured, dropping her eyes. "I am tired of my life. What +you owed me then you owe me now. Why should it be too late? I am not an +old woman yet, nor are you an old man, and I am weary of being alone."</p> + +<p>Mannering walked to the window. His hand went to his forehead. It was +damp and cold. He was afraid! If she were in earnest! And she spoke like +a woman who knew her mind. She was always, he remembered, a creature of +caprice. If she were really in earnest!</p> + +<p>"We have drifted too far apart, Blanche," he said, making an effort to +face the situation. "Years ago this might have been possible. To-day it +would be a dismal failure. My ways are not yours. The life I lead would +bore you to death."</p> + +<p>"There is no reason why you should not alter it," she answered, calmly. +"In fact, I should wish you to. Blakely all the year round would be an +impossibility. You could come and live in London."</p> + +<p>He looked at her fixedly.</p> + +<p>"Have you forgotten?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She covered her face with her hands for a moment. If indeed she really +felt any emotion it passed quickly away, for when she looked up again +there were no traces left.</p> + +<p>"I have forgotten nothing," she declared, defiantly. "Only the horror and +fear of it all has passed away. I don't see why I should suffer all my +life. In fact, I don't mean to. I don't want to be a miserable, lonely +old woman. I want a home, something different from this."</p> + +<p>Mannering faced her gravely.</p> + +<p>"Blanche," he said, "you are proposing something which would most surely +ruin the rest of our lives. What we might have been to one another if +things had been different it is hard to say. But this much is very +certain. We belong now to different worlds. We have drifted apart with +the years. Even the little we see of one another now is far from a +pleasure to either of us. What you are suggesting would be simply +suicidal."</p> + +<p>She was silent. He watched her anxiously. As a rule her face was easy +enough to read. To-day it was impenetrable. He could not tell what was +passing behind that still, almost stony, look. Her silence forced him +again into speech.</p> + +<p>"You agree with me, surely, Blanche? You must agree with me?"</p> + +<p>She raised her head.</p> + +<p>"I am not sure that I do," she answered. "But at least I understand you. +That is something! You want to go on as you are—apart from me. That is +true, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"At least you are candid. You want your liberty—unfettered. What are you +willing to pay for it?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her incredulously.</p> + +<p>"I do not quite understand!" he said.</p> + +<p>She laughed, and the laugh belonged to her old self.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I thought that I was explicit enough, brutally explicit, even. +What have you to offer me in place of your name and yourself? What +sacrifice are you prepared to make?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her furtively, as though even then he doubted the +significance of her words.</p> + +<p>"You have already half my income," he said, slowly.</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"A thousand a year! What can one do on that? To live decently in town one +needs much more."</p> + +<p>"It is as much as I can offer," he remarked, stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Then you should earn money," she declared. "It's easy enough for men +with brains. Go back into politics instead of idling your time away down +in Blakely. I mean it! I've no patience with men who have a right to a +place in the world which they won't fill."</p> + +<p>"Surely," he remonstrated, "I may be allowed to choose the manner of my +life!"</p> + +<p>"If you can afford to—yes," she answered. "But I want one of two things. +The first seems to scare you to death even to think of. The second is +more money—a good deal more money."</p> + +<p>"But," he protested, "even if I did as you suggested, and went back into +politics, it would be some time, if ever, before I should be any better +off."</p> + +<p>"I will wait until that time comes," she answered, "provided that when it +does, you share with me."</p> + +<p>Then Mannering understood.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word," he exclaimed, "you are an apt conspirator indeed. All +this time you have been fooling me. I even fancied—bah! How much is +Borrowdean giving you for this?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all," she answered, coolly. "It is my own sincere desire +for your welfare which has prompted all that I have said to you. I am +ambitious for you, Lawrence. I should like to see you Prime Minister. +I am sure you could be if you tried. You are letting your talents rust, +and I don't approve of it!"</p> + +<p>The faint note of mockery in her tone was clearly apparent. Mannering +found it hard to answer her calmly.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said, "put it into plain words. What does it mean? What do you +want?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie tells me," she said, raising her eyes and looking him in the +face, "that his party is prepared to find you a safe seat to-morrow. I +want you to give up your hermit's life and accept it."</p> + +<p>"And the alternative?"</p> + +<p>"You have it already before you. Your reception of it was not, I must +admit, altogether flattering."</p> + +<p>"I am allowed," he said, "some short space of time for consideration?"</p> + +<p>"Until to-morrow, if you wish," she answered. "I imagine you know pretty +well what you mean to do."</p> + +<p>He picked up his hat and turned towards the door.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "I suppose I do!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BOOK II</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Ia" id="CHAPTER_Ia"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>BORROWDEAN MAKES A BARGAIN</h3> + + +<p>Borrowdean sank into the chair which Berenice had indicated, with a +little sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>"These all-night sittings," he remarked, "get less of a joke as one +advances in years. You read the reports this morning?"</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"And Mannering's speech?"</p> + +<p>"Every word of it."</p> + +<p>"Our little conspiracy," he continued, "is bearing fruit. Honestly, +Mannering is a surprise, even to me. After these years of rust I scarcely +expected him to step back at once into all his former brilliancy. His +speech last night was wonderful."</p> + +<p>"I heard it," she said. "You are quite right. It was wonderful."</p> + +<p>"You were in the House?" he asked, looking up quickly.</p> + +<p>"I was there till midnight," she answered.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean was thoughtful for a moment.</p> + +<p>"His speech," he remarked, "sounded even better than it read."</p> + +<p>"I thought so," she admitted. "He has all the smaller tricks of the +orator, as well as the gift of eloquence. One can always listen to him +with pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Will you pardon me," Borrowdean asked, "if I make a remark which may +sound a little impertinent? You and Mannering were great friends at +Blakely. On my first visit there you will remember that you did not +attempt to conceal that there was more than an ordinary intimacy between +you. Yet to-day I notice that there are indications on both your parts of +a desire to avoid one another as much as possible. It seems to me a pity +that you two should not be friends. Is there any small misunderstanding +which a common friend—such as I trust I may call myself—might help +to smooth away?"</p> + +<p>Berenice regarded him thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"It is strange," she said, "that you should talk to me like this, you who +are certainly responsible for any estrangement there may be between Mr. +Mannering and myself. Please answer me this question. Why do you wish us +to be friends?"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"You and he and myself, with about a dozen others," he answered, "form +the backbone of a political party. As time goes on we shall in all +probability be drawn closer and closer together. It seems to me best that +our alliance should be as real a thing as possible."</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled.</p> + +<p>"Rather a sentimental attitude for you, Sir Leslie," she remarked. "Have +you ever considered the fact that any coolness there may be between +Lawrence Mannering and myself is entirely due to you?"</p> + +<p>"To me!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Exactly! At Blakely we were on terms of the most intimate friendship. I +had grown to like and respect him more than any man I had ever met. I +don't know exactly why I should take you so far into my confidence, but I +am inclined to do so. Our friendship seemed likely to develop into—other +things."</p> + +<p>"My dear Duchess—"</p> + +<p>"Don't interrupt me! I have an idea that you were perfectly aware of it. +Perhaps it did not suit your plans. At any rate, you made statements to +me concerning him which, as you very well knew, were likely to alter my +entire opinion of him. I had an idea that there was some code of honour +between men which kept them from discussing the private life of their +friends with a woman. You seem to have been troubled with no such +scruples. You told me things about Lawrence Mannering which made it +absolutely necessary that I should hear them confirmed or denied from his +own lips."</p> + +<p>"You would rather have remained in ignorance, then?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I would rather have remained in ignorance," she repeated, calmly. "Don't +flatter yourself, Sir Leslie, that a woman ever has any real gratitude in +her heart for the person who, out of friendship, or some other motive, +destroys her ideals. I should have married Lawrence Mannering if you had +not spoken."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean was silent. In his heart he was thinking how nearly one of the +most cherished schemes of his life had gone awry.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, then," he said, "that even at the risk of your further +displeasure I have no regrets to offer you."</p> + +<p>"I do not desire your regrets," she answered, scornfully. "You did what +it suited you to do, and I presume you are satisfied. As for the rest, I +can assure you that the relations between Mr. Mannering and myself are +such that the balance of your political apple-cart is not likely to be +disturbed. Now let us talk of something else. I have said all that I have +to say on this matter—"</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie was not entirely satisfied with the result of his afternoon +call. He walked slowly from Grosvenor Square to a small house in Sloane +Gardens, in front of which a well-appointed victoria was waiting. He +looked around at the well-filled window-boxes, thick with geraniums and +marguerites, at the coachman's new livery, at the evidences of luxury +which met him the moment the door was opened, and his lips parted in a +faint, unpleasant smile.</p> + +<p>"Poor Mannering," he murmured to himself. "What a millstone!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Phillimore was at home. She would certainly see Sir Leslie, the +trim parlour-maid thought, with a smile. She left him alone in a +flower-scented drawing-room, crowded with rococo furniture and many +knick-knacks, where he waited more or less impatiently for nearly twenty +minutes. Then Mrs. Phillimore swept into the room, elaborately gowned for +her drive in the park, dispersing perfumes in all directions and +bestowing a dazzling smile upon him.</p> + +<p>"I felt very much inclined not to see you at all," she declared. "How +dared you keep away from me all this time? You haven't been near me since +I moved in here. What do you think of my little house?"</p> + +<p>"Charming!" he declared.</p> + +<p>"Every one likes it," she remarked. "Such a time I had choosing the +furniture. Hester wouldn't help with a single thing. You know that she +has left me?"</p> + +<p>"I understood that she had gone to Mr. Mannering as secretary," he +answered. "She has done typing for him for some time, hasn't she?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Phillimore nodded.</p> + +<p>"Worships him, the little fool!" she remarked. "I must admit I detest +clever men. You are all so dull, and such scheming brutes, too."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean smiled. A certain rough-and-ready humour about this woman +always appealed to him. He looked around.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have done very nicely with that little offering," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ready money goes a long way," she declared, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"And when it is spent?" he asked. "Five thousand pounds is not an +inexhaustible sum."</p> + +<p>"By the time it is spent," she answered, "your party will be in, and I +suppose you will make Lawrence something."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean regarded the woman thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Has it ever occurred to you," he asked, "that the time is likely to come +when Mannering might want his money for himself? He might want to marry, +for instance."</p> + +<p>She laughed mirthlessly, but without a shade of uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"You don't know Lawrence," she declared, scornfully. "He'd never do that +whilst I was alive."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure," Borrowdean answered, calmly. "Between ourselves, +I cannot see that your claim upon him amounts to very much."</p> + +<p>"Then you're a fool!" she declared, brusquely.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not," Borrowdean assured her, blandly. "Now I fancy that I could +tell you something which would surprise you very much."</p> + +<p>"Has he been making love to any one?" she asked, quickly.</p> + +<p>"Something of the sort," he admitted. "Mannering is quixotic, of course, +and that hermit life of his down in Norfolk has made him more so. Now he +has come back again into the world it is just possible that he may see +things differently. I flatter myself that I am a man of common sense. I +know how the whole affair seems to me, and I tell you frankly that I can +see nothing from the point of view of honour to prevent Mannering +marrying any woman he chooses. I think it very possible that he may +readjust his whole point of view."</p> + +<p>The woman looked around her, and outside, where her victoria was waiting. +At last she had attained to an environment such as she had all her life +desired. The very idea that at any moment it might be swept away sent a +cold shiver through her. Borrowdean had a trick of speaking convincingly. +And besides—</p> + +<p>"Who is the woman?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I had been wondering," Borrowdean said, "whether it would not be better +to tell you, so that you might be on your guard. The woman is the Duchess +of Lenchester."</p> + +<p>She stared at him.</p> + +<p>"You're in earnest?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely!"</p> + +<p>Her face hardened. Whatever other feelings she may have had for +Mannering, she had lived so long with the thought that he belonged to +her, at least as a wage-earning animal, a person whose province it +was to make her ways smooth so far as his means permitted, that the +thought of losing him stirred in her a dull, jealous anger.</p> + +<p>"I'd stop it!" she declared. "I'd go and tell her everything."</p> + +<p>"I am not sure," Borrowdean continued, smoothly, "that that would be the +best course. Supposing that you were to tell her the story just as you +told it to me. It is just possible that her point of view might be mine. +She might regard Lawrence Mannering as a quixotic person, and endeavour +to persuade him that your claim was scarcely so binding as he seems to +imagine. In any case, I do not think that your story would prevent her +marrying him."</p> + +<p>"Then all I can say is that she is a woman with a very queer sense of +right and wrong," Mrs. Phillimore declared, angrily.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean smiled.</p> + +<p>"A woman," he said, "who is fond of a man is apt to have her judgment +a little warped. The Duchess is a woman of fine perceptions and sound +judgment. But she is attracted by Lawrence Mannering. She admires him. +He is the sort of person who appeals to her imagination. These feelings +might easily become, if they have not already developed into, something +else. And I tell you again that I do not believe your story would stop +her from marrying him."</p> + +<p>She leaned a little towards him.</p> + +<p>"What would?" she asked, earnestly.</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "I think I could tell you that!"</p> + +<p>She held up her hand.</p> + +<p>"Stop, please," she said. "I want to ask you something else. Are you +Lawrence's enemy?"</p> + +<p>"I? Why, of course not!"</p> + +<p>"Then where do you come in?" she asked, bluntly. "You couldn't persuade +me that it is interest on my account which brings you here and makes you +tell me these things. You don't care a button for me."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean took her hand and leaned forward in his chair. She snatched it +away.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rot!" she exclaimed. "I may be a fool, but I'm not quite fool enough +for that. I'm simply a useful person for the moment in some scheme of +yours, and I just want to know what that scheme is. That's all! I'm not +the sort of woman you'd waste a moment with, except for some purpose of +your own. You've proved that. You wormed my story out of me very +cleverly, but I haven't quite forgotten it yet, you know. And to tell you +the truth," she continued, "you're not my sort, either. You and Lawrence +Mannering are something of the same kidney after all, though he's worth +a dozen of you. You've neither of you any time for play in the world, and +that sort of man doesn't appeal to me. Now where do you come in?"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean looked at her thoughtfully. He had the air of a man a trifle +piqued. Perhaps for the first time he realized that Blanche Phillimore +was not altogether an unattractive-looking woman. If she had desired to +stir him from his indifference she could not have chosen any more +effectual means.</p> + +<p>"I am not going to argue with you," he said, quietly. "I have ambitions, +it is true, and the world is not exactly a playground for me. +Nevertheless, I am not an ascetic like Mannering. The world, the flesh +and the devil are very much to me what they are to other men. But in a +sense you have cornered me, and you shall have the truth. I want to marry +the Duchess of Lenchester myself."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"That's right," she said. "Now we know where we are. You want to marry +the Duchess, and therefore you don't want her to have Lawrence. You think +that I can stop it, and as I don't want him married, either, you come to +me. That is reasonable. Now how can I prevent it?"</p> + +<p>"By a slight variation from your story," he answered. "In fact, words are +not needed. A suggestion only would be enough, and circumstances," he +added, glancing around, "are strongly in favour of that suggestion."</p> + +<p>"You mean—"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Mannering is security for your lease," he remarked. "You pay in his +cheques to your bank every quarter. He occupies just that position which +in a general way is capable of one explanation only."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Let the Duchess believe him, or continue to believe him, to be an +ordinary man—instead of a fool—and she will never marry him."</p> + +<p>"And she will you?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so!"</p> + +<p>She leaned back in her chair. He could not altogether understand her +silence. Surely she could have no scruples?</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," she said at last, "that I am to play your game for +nothing. I don't care so very much, after all, if he marries. He'd settle +all he could on me. In fact, I should have just as much claim on him as I +have now."</p> + +<p>"I did not say that you should play it for nothing," he answered. "I want +us to understand each other, because I have an idea that you may be +seeing something of the Duchess at any moment. Let us put it this way. +Suppose I promise to give you a diamond necklace of the value of, say +five thousand pounds, the day I marry the Duchess!"</p> + +<p>She rose and put pen and paper before him. He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I can't put an arrangement of that sort on paper," he protested. "You +must rely upon my word of honour."</p> + +<p>She held out the pen to him.</p> + +<p>"On paper, or the whole thing is off absolutely," she declared.</p> + +<p>"You won't trust me?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him.</p> + +<p>"There isn't much honour about an arrangement of this sort, is there?" +she said. "It has to be on paper, or not at all."</p> + +<p>A carriage stopped outside. They heard the bell.</p> + +<p>"That," she remarked, "may be the Duchess of Lenchester."</p> + +<p>He caught up the pen and wrote a few hurried lines. The smile with which +he handed it to her was not altogether successful.</p> + +<p>"After all, you know," he said, "there should be honour amongst thieves."</p> + +<p>"No doubt there is," she answered. "Only thieves are a cut above us, +aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe," Borrowdean said to himself, as he reached the +pavement, "that that woman is such a fool as she seems."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIa" id="CHAPTER_IIa"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>"CHERCHEZ LA FEMME"</h3> + + +<p>Mannering hated dinner parties, but this one had been a necessity. +Nevertheless, if he had known who his companion for the evening was fated +to be he would most certainly have stayed away. Her first question showed +him that she had no intention of ignoring memories which to him were +charged with the most subtle pain.</p> + +<p>He looked down the table, and back again into her face.</p> + +<p>"You are quite right," he said. "This is different. We cannot compare. We +can judge only by effect—the effect upon ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Can you be analytical and yet remain within the orbit of my +understanding?" she asked, with a faint smile. "If so, I should like to +know exactly how you feel about it all."</p> + +<p>He passed a course with a somewhat weary gesture of refusal, and leaned +back in his chair.</p> + +<p>"You are comprehensive—as usual," he remarked. "Just then I was +wondering whether the perfume of these banks of hot-house flowers—I +don't know what they are—was as sweet as the odour of the salt from +the creeks, or my roses when the night wind touched them."</p> + +<p>"You were wondering! And what have you decided?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, I must not say. In any case you would not agree with me. Wasn't it +you who once scoffed at my idyll in the wilderness?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think that I believe in idylls, nowadays," she answered. "One +risks so many disappointments when one believes in anything."</p> + +<p>He raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"You did not talk like this at Blakely," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"I am nearly a year older," she answered, "and a year wiser."</p> + +<p>"You pain me," he answered, with a little sigh. "You are a person of +intelligence, and you talk of growing wiser with the years. Don't you +know that the only supreme wisdom is the wisdom of the child? Our +inherent ignorance is fed and nourished by experience."</p> + +<p>"You are hiding yourself," she remarked, "behind a fence of words—words +that mean less than nothing! I don't suppose that even you would hesitate +to admit that you have come into a larger world. You may have to pay for +it. We all do. But at any rate it is an atmosphere which breeds men."</p> + +<p>"And changes women," he murmured, under his breath.</p> + +<p>She did not speak to him for several moments. Then the alteration in her +tone and manner was almost marked.</p> + +<p>"You mentioned Blakely a few minutes ago," she said. "I wonder whether +you remember our discussion there upon precisely what has come to pass."</p> + +<p>"Perfectly!"</p> + +<p>"I remember that in those days," she continued, reflectively, "you were +very firm indeed, or was it my poor arguments that were at fault? Your +vegetable and sentimental existence was a part of yourself. Ambition! You +had forgotten what it was. Duty! You spouted individualism by the hour. +Gratify my curiosity, won't you? Tell me what made you change your mind?"</p> + +<p>Mannering was silent for a moment. A close observer might have noticed +a certain alteration in his face. A touch of the coming weariness was +already there.</p> + +<p>"I have never changed my mind," he answered, quietly. "My inclinations +to-day are what they have always been."</p> + +<p>She dropped her voice a little.</p> + +<p>"You puzzle me," she said, softly. "Do you mean that it was your sense of +duty which was awakened?"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not mean that," he answered. "Forgive me—but I cannot tell you +what I do mean. Circumstances brought me here against my will."</p> + +<p>"You talk like a slave," she said, lightly enough. She, too, was brave. +She drank wine to keep the colour in her cheeks, and she told herself +that the pain at her heart was nothing. Nevertheless, some words of +Borrowdean's were mocking her all the while.</p> + +<p>"We are all slaves," he answered. "The folly of it all is when we stop to +think. Then we realize it."</p> + +<p>Their conversation was like a strangled thing. Neither made any serious +effort to re-establish it. It was a great dinner party, chiefly +political, and long drawn out. Afterwards came a reception, and Mannering +was at once surrounded. It was nearly midnight when by chance they came +face to face again. She touched him with her fan, and leaned aside from +the little group by whom she was surrounded.</p> + +<p>"Are you very much occupied, Mr. Mannering," she asked, lightly, "or +could you spare me a moment?"</p> + +<p>He stopped short. Whatever surprise he may have felt he concealed.</p> + +<p>"I am entirely at your service, Duchess," he answered. "Mr. Harrison will +excuse me, I am sure," he added, turning to his companion.</p> + +<p>She rested her fingers upon his arm. The house belonged to a relative of +hers, and she knew where to find a quiet spot. When they were alone she +did not hesitate for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she said, quietly, "will you imagine for a moment that we are +back again at Blakely?"</p> + +<p>"I would to God we were!" he answered, impulsively. "That is—if you wish +it too!"</p> + +<p>She did not answer at once. The sudden abnegation of his reserve took her +by surprise. She had to readjust her words.</p> + +<p>"At least," she said, "there are many things about Blakely which I regret +all the time. You know, of course, the chief one, our own altered selves. +I know, Lawrence, that I need to ask your forgiveness. I came there under +an assumed name, and I will admit that my coming was part of a scheme +between Ronalds, Rochester and myself. Well, I am ready to ask your +forgiveness for that. I don't think you ought to refuse it me. It doesn't +alter anything that happened. It doesn't even affect it. You must believe +that!"</p> + +<p>"I believe it, if you tell me so," he answered.</p> + +<p>"I do tell you," she declared. "I can explain it all. I am longing to +have it all off my mind. But first of all, there is just one thing which +I want to ask you."</p> + +<p>His face as he looked towards her gave her almost a shock. Very little +was left of his healthy colouring. Already there were lines under his +eyes, and he was certainly thinner. And there was something else which +almost appalled her. There was fear in his manner. He sat like a man +waiting for sentence, a man fore-doomed.</p> + +<p>"I want to know," she said, "what has brought you—here. I want to know +what manner of persuasion has prevailed—when mine was so ineffectual. +Don't think that I am not glad that you decided as you did. I am +glad—very. You are in your rightful place, and I am only too thankful +to hear about you, and read—and watch. But—we are jealous creatures, we +women, you know, and I want to know whose and what arguments prevailed, +when mine were so very insufficient."</p> + +<p>He answered her without hesitation, but his tone was dull and spiritless.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you!"</p> + +<p>There was a short silence. She gathered her skirts for a moment in her +hand as though about to rise, but apparently changed her mind. She waited +for some time, and then she spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you think that I ought not to ask?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think that. You have a right to ask. But it doesn't alter +things, does it? I can't tell you."</p> + +<p>"You asked me to marry you."</p> + +<p>"It was at Blakely. We were so far out of the world—such a different +world. I think that I had forgotten all that I wished to forget. +Everything seemed possible there."</p> + +<p>"You mean that you would have married me and told me nothing of +circumstances in your life, so momentous that they have practically +exercised in this matter of your return to politics a compelling +influence over you?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure," he said, "that I should not have told you!"</p> + +<p>His unhappiness moved her. She still lingered. She drew a little breath, +and she went a good deal further than she had meant to go.</p> + +<p>"It has been suggested to me," she said, "that your reappearance was due +to a woman's influence. Is this true?"</p> + +<p>"A woman had something to do with it," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"Her name," he answered, "is Blanche Phillimore. It was the person to +whom you yourself alluded."</p> + +<p>The Duchess maintained her self-control. She was quite pale, however, and +her tone was growing ominously harder.</p> + +<p>"Is she a connection of yours?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Is there anything which you could tell me about her?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Yet at her bidding you have done—what you refused me."</p> + +<p>"I had no choice! Borrowdean saw to that," he remarked, bitterly.</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet. She was pale, and her lips were quivering, but she +was splendidly handsome.</p> + +<p>"What sort of a man are you, Lawrence Mannering?" she asked, steadily. +"You play at idealism, you asked me to marry you. Yet all the time there +was this background."</p> + +<p>"It was madness," he admitted. "But remember it was Mrs. Handsell whom I +asked to be my wife."</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make? She was a woman, too, I suppose, to be +honoured—or insulted—by your choice!"</p> + +<p>"There was no question of insult, I think."</p> + +<p>She looked at him steadfastly. Perhaps for a moment her thoughts +travelled back to those unforgotten days in the rose-gardens at Blakely, +to the man whose delicate but wholesome joy in the wind and the sun and +the flowers, the sea-stained marshes and the windy knolls where they had +so often stood together, she could not forget. His life had seemed to her +then so beautiful a thing. The elementary purity of his thoughts and +aspirations were unmistakable. She told herself passionately that there +must be a way out.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she said, "we are man and woman, not boy and girl. You asked +me to marry you once, and I hesitated, only because of one thing. I do +not wish to look into any hidden chambers of your life. I wish to know +nothing, save of the present. What claim has this woman Blanche +Phillimore upon you?"</p> + +<p>"It is her secret," he answered, "not mine alone."</p> + +<p>"She lives in your house—through her you are a poor man—through her you +are back again, a worker in the world."</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"It must always be so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And you have nothing more to say?"</p> + +<p>"If I dared," he said, raising his eyes to hers, "I would say—trust me! +I am not exactly—one of the beasts of the field."</p> + +<p>"Will you not trust me, then? I am not a foolish girl. I am a woman. You +may destroy an ideal, but there would be something left."</p> + +<p>"I can tell you no more."</p> + +<p>"Then it is to be good-bye?"</p> + +<p>"If you say so!"</p> + +<p>She turned slowly away. He watched her disappear. Afterwards, with a +curious sense of unreality, he remained quite still, his eyes still fixed +upon the portiere through which she had passed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIIa" id="CHAPTER_IIIa"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>ONE OF THE "SUFFERERS"</h3> + + +<p>Mannering kept no carriage, and he left Downing Street on foot. The +little house which he had taken furnished for the season was in the +somewhat less pretentious neighborhood of Portland Crescent, and as there +were no hansoms within hail he started to walk home. An attempt at a +short cut landed him presently in a neighborhood which he failed to +recognize. He paused, looking about him for some one from whom to inquire +the way. Then he at once realized what he had already more than once +suspected. He was being followed.</p> + +<p>The footsteps ceased as he himself had halted. It was a wet night, and +the street was ill-lit. Nevertheless, Mannering could distinguish the +figure of a man standing in the shadows of the houses, apparently to +escape observation. For a moment he hesitated. His follower could +scarcely be an ordinary hooligan, for not more than fifty yards away were +the lights of a great thoroughfare, and even in this street, quiet though +it was, there were people passing to and fro. His curiosity prompted him +to subterfuge. He took a cigarette from his case, and commenced in a +leisurely manner the operation of striking a light. Instantly the figure +of the man began to move cautiously towards him.</p> + +<p>Mannering's eyes and hearing, keenly developed by his country life, +apprised him of every step the man took. He heard him pause whilst a +couple of women passed on the other side of the way. Afterwards his +approach became swifter and more stealthy. Barely in time to avoid, he +scarcely knew what, Mannering turned sharply round.</p> + +<p>"What do you want with me?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>The man showed no signs of confusion. Mannering, as he looked sternly +into his face, lost all fear of personal assault. He was neatly but +shabbily dressed, pale, and with a slight red moustache. He had a +somewhat broad forehead, eyes with more than an ordinary lustre, and, in +somewhat striking contradiction to the rest of his features, a large +sensitive mouth with a distinctly humorous curve. Even now its corners +were receding into a smile, which had in it, however, other elements than +mirth alone.</p> + +<p>"You are Mr. Lawrence Mannering?"</p> + +<p>"That is my name," Mannering answered, "but if you want to speak to me +why don't you come up like a man, instead of dogging my footsteps? It +looked as though you wanted to take me by surprise. What is that you are +hiding up your sleeve?"</p> + +<p>The man held it out, placed it even in Mannering's hand.</p> + +<p>"A life preserver, steel, as you see, and with a beautiful spring. Deadly +weapon, isn't it, sir? Even a half-hearted sort of blow might kill a +man."</p> + +<p>Mannering swung the weapon lightly in his hand. It cut the air with a +soft, sickly swish.</p> + +<p>"What were you doing following me, on tiptoe, with this in your hand?" he +asked, sternly.</p> + +<p>"Well," the man answered, as though forced to confess an unpleasant +truth, "I am very much afraid that I was going to hit you with it."</p> + +<p>Mannering looked up and down the street for a policeman.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" he said. "And may I ask why you changed your mind?"</p> + +<p>"It was an inspiration," the man answered, easily. "To tell you the +truth, the clumsiness of the whole thing grated very much upon me. +Personally, I ran no risk, don't think it was that. My escape was very +carefully provided for. But one thinks quickly in moments of excitement, +and it seemed to me as I took those last few steps that I saw a better +way."</p> + +<p>"A better way," Mannering repeated, puzzled. "I am afraid I don't quite +understand you. I presume that you meant to rob me. You would not have +found it worth while, by the bye."</p> + +<p>The man laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," he exclaimed, "do I look like a robber? Rumour says that +you are a poor man. I should think it very likely that, although I am not +a rich one, I am at least as well off as you."</p> + +<p>Mannering looked out no more for the policeman. He was getting +interested.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said, "I should like to understand what all this means. You +were going to tap me on the head with this particularly unpleasant +weapon, and your motive was not robbery. I am not aware of ever having +seen you before. I am not aware of having an enemy in the world. Explain +yourself."</p> + +<p>"I should be charmed," the man answered. "I do not wish to keep you +standing here, however. Will you allow me to walk with you towards your +home? You can retain possession of that little trifle, if you like," he +added, pointing to the weapon which was still in Mannering's hand. "I can +assure you that I have nothing else of the sort in my possession. You can +feel my pockets, if you like."</p> + +<p>"I will take your word!" Mannering said. "I was on my way to Portland +Crescent, but I fancy that I have taken a wrong turn."</p> + +<p>"We can get there this way," the man answered. "Excuse me one second."</p> + +<p>He paused, and lit a cigarette. Then with his hands behind his back he +stepped out by Mannering's side.</p> + +<p>"What was that you said just now?" he remarked, "that you were not aware +of having an enemy in the world? My dear sir, there was never a more +extraordinary delusion. I should seriously doubt whether in the whole +of the United Kingdom there is a man who has more. I know myself of a +million or so who would welcome the news of your death to-morrow. I +know of a select few who have opened, and will open their newspapers +to-morrow, and for the next few days, in the hope of seeing your obituary +notice."</p> + +<p>A light commenced to break in upon Mannering. He looked towards his +companion incredulously.</p> + +<p>"You mean political opponents!" he exclaimed. "Is that what you are +driving at all the time?"</p> + +<p>The man laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"My friend," he said—"excuse me, Mr. Mannering—you remind me +irresistibly of <i>Punch's</i> cartoon last week—the ostrich politician with +his head in the sand. You have thrust yours very deep down indeed, when +you talk of political opponents. Do you know what they call you in the +North, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"The enemy of the people! It isn't a pleasant title, is it?"</p> + +<p>"It is a false one!" Mannering declared, with a little note of passion +quivering in his tone.</p> + +<p>"It is as true and certain as the judgment of God!" his companion +answered, with almost lightning-like rapidity.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence. They passed a lamp-post, and Mannering, +turning his head, scrutinized the other's features closely.</p> + +<p>"I should like to know who you are," he said, "and what your name is."</p> + +<p>"It is a reasonable curiosity," the man answered. "My name is Fardell, +Richard Fardell, and I am a retired bookmaker."</p> + +<p>"A bookmaker!" Mannering repeated, incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Precisely. I should imagine from what I know of you, Mr. Mannering, that +my occupation, or rather my late occupation, is not one which would +appeal to you favourably. Very likely not! I don't see why it should +myself. But at any rate, it taught me a lot about my fellow men. I did my +business in shillings and half-crowns, you see. Did it with the working +classes, the sort who used to go to a race-meeting for a jaunt, and just +have a bit on for the sake of the sport. Took their missus generally, and +made a holiday of it, and if they lost they'd grin and come and chaff me, +and if they won they'd spend the money like lords. I made money, of +course, bought houses, and made a lot more. Then business fell off. I +didn't seem to meet with that cheerful holiday-making crew at any of the +meetings up in the North, and I got sick of it. You see, I'd made sort +of friends with them. They all knew Dicky Fardell, and I knew hundreds +of 'em by sight. They'd come and mob me to stand 'em a drink when the +wrong horse won, and I can tell you I never refused. They were always +good-tempered, real sports to the backbone, and I tell you I was fond of +'em. And then they left off coming. I couldn't understand it at first. +The one or two who came talked of bad trade, and when I asked after their +pals they shook their heads. They betted in shillings instead of +half-crowns, and I didn't like the look of their faces when they lost. +I tell you, it got so at last that I used to watch for the horse they'd +put their bit on to win, and feel kind o' sick when it didn't. You can +imagine I couldn't stand that sort of thing long. I chucked it, and I +went to look for my pals. I wanted to find out what had become of them."</p> + +<p>Mannering looked at him curiously.</p> + +<p>"You found, I hope," he said, drily, "that the British workman had +discovered a better investment for his shillings and half-crowns than the +race-course."</p> + +<p>Mr. Richard Fardell smiled pleasantly, but tolerantly.</p> + +<p>"It's clear," he said, "that you, meaning no offence, Mr. Mannering, know +nothing about the British workman. Whatever else he may be, he's a +sportsman. He'll look after his wife and kids as well as the best of +them, but he'll have his bit of sport so long as he's got a copper in his +pocket. When he didn't come I put my kit on one side and went to look for +him. I went, mind you, as his friend, and knowing a bit about him. And +what I found has made a changed man of me."</p> + +<p>Mannering nodded.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid things are bad up in the North," he said. "You mustn't think +that we people who are responsible for the laws of the country ignore +this, Mr. Fardell. It is a very anxious time indeed with all of us. +Still, I presume you study the monthly trade returns. Some industries +seem prosperous enough."</p> + +<p>"I'm no politician," Fardell answered, curtly. "Figures don't interest +me. They're just the drugs some of your party use to keep your conscience +quiet. Things I see and know of are what I go by. And what I've seen, and +what I know of, are just about enough to tear the heart out of any man +who cares a row of pins about his fellows. Now I'm going to talk plain +English to you, Mr. Mannering. I bought that little article you have in +your pocket seriously meaning to knock you on the head with it. And that +may come yet."</p> + +<p>Mannering looked at him in amazement.</p> + +<p>"But my dear sir," he said, "what is your grievance against me? I have +always considered myself a people's politician."</p> + +<p>"Then the people may very well say 'save me from my friends'," Fardell +answered, grimly. "Mind, I believe you're honest, or you'd be lying on +your back now with a cracked skull. But you are using a great influence +on the wrong side. You're standing between the people and the one +reasonable scheme which has been brought forward which has a fair chance +of changing their condition."</p> + +<p>Then Mannering began to understand.</p> + +<p>"I oppose the scheme you speak of," he answered, "simply because I don't +believe in it. Every man has a right to his opinion. I don't believe for +a moment that it would improve the present condition of things."</p> + +<p>"Then what is your scheme?" Fardell asked.</p> + +<p>"My scheme!" Mannering repeated. "I don't quite understand you!"</p> + +<p>"Of course you don't," Fardell answered, vigourously. "You can weave +academic arguments, you can make figures and statistics dance to any +damned tune you please. If I tried to argue with you, you'd squash me +flat. And what's it all come to? My pals must starve for the +gratification of your intellectual vanity. You won't listen to Tariff +Reform. Then what do you propose, to light the forges and fill the +mills? Nothing! I say, unless you've got a counter scheme of your own, +you ought to try ours."</p> + +<p>"Come, Mr. Fardell," Mannering said, "I can assure you that all I have +said and written is the outcome of honest thought. I—"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" Fardell exclaimed. "Honest thought! Yes! Where? In your study. +That's where you theorists do your mischief. You can't make laws for the +people in your study. You can't tell the status of the workingman from +the figures you read in your study. You're like half the smug people in +the world who discuss this question in the railway carriages and in their +clubs. I've heard 'em till I'd like to shove their self-opinionated +arguments down their throats, strip their clothes off their backs, and +send them down to live with my pals, or starve with them. Any little +idiot who buys a penny paper and who's doing pretty well for himself, +thinks he can lay down the law about Free Trade. You're all of one +kidney, sir! You none of you realize this. There are men as good as any +of you, whose wives and children are as dear to them as yours to you, +who've got to see them get thinner and thinner, who don't know where to +get a day's work or lay their hands upon a copper, and all the while +their kids come crying to them for something to eat. Put yourself in +their place, sir, and try and realize the torture of it. I've been +amongst 'em. I've spent half of what I made, and a good many thousands it +was, buying food for them. Can you wonder that my fingers have itched for +the throats of these smug, prosperous pigs, who spurt platitudes and +think things are very well as they are because they're making their +little bit? What right have you—any of you—to hesitate for a second to +try any means to help those poor devils, unless you've got a better +scheme of your own? Will you tell me that, sir?"</p> + +<p>They had reached Mannering's house, and he threw open the gate.</p> + +<p>"You must come in with me and talk about these things," Mannering said, +gravely. "You seem to be the sort of person I've been wanting to meet for +a long time."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IVa" id="CHAPTER_IVa"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>DEBTS OF HONOUR</h3> + + +<p>Berenice found the following morning a note from Borrowdean, which caused +her some perplexity.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"If you really care," he said, "to do Mannering a good turn, look his +niece up now and then. I am afraid that young woman has rather lost her +head since she came to London, and she is making friends who will do her +no particular good."</p></div> + +<p>Berenice ordered her carriage early, and drove round to Portland +Crescent.</p> + +<p>"My dear child," she exclaimed, as Clara came into the room, "what have +you been doing with yourself? You look ghastly!"</p> + +<p>Clara shrugged her shoulders, and looked at herself in a mirror.</p> + +<p>"I do look chippy, don't I?" she remarked. "I've been spending the +week-end down at Bristow."</p> + +<p>"At Bristow?" Berenice repeated. Her voice spoke volumes. Clara looked up +a little defiantly.</p> + +<p>"Yes! We had an awful spree! I like it there immensely, only—"</p> + +<p>Berenice looked up.</p> + +<p>"I notice," she remarked, "that there is generally an 'only' about people +who have spent week-ends at Bristow. They play cards there, don't they, +until daylight? Some one once told me that they kept a professional +croupier for roulette!"</p> + +<p>"That horrid game!" Clara exclaimed. "Please don't mention it. I've +scarcely slept a wink all night for thinking of it."</p> + +<p>Berenice looked at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say," she inquired, deliberately, "that they allowed you +to play—and lose?"</p> + +<p>"It wasn't their fault I lost," Clara answered. "Oh, what a fool I was. +Bobby Bristow showed me a system. It seemed so easy. I didn't think I +could possibly lose. It worked beautifully at first. I thought that I was +going to pay all my bills, and have lots of money to spend. Then I +doubled the stakes—I wanted to win a lot—and everything went wrong!"</p> + +<p>"How much did you lose?" Berenice asked. Clara shivered.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me!" she cried. "Sir Leslie Borrowdean gave his own cheques +for all my I.O.U.'s. He is coming to see me some time to-day. I don't +know what I shall say to him."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to go on playing?" Berenice asked, quietly, "or is this +experience enough for you?"</p> + +<p>"I shall never sit at a roulette table again as long as I live," she +declared. "I hate the very thought of it."</p> + +<p>"Then you can just ask Sir Leslie the amount of the I.O.U.'s, and tell +him that he shall have a cheque in the morning," Berenice said. "I will +lend you the money."</p> + +<p>Clara gave a little gasp.</p> + +<p>"You are too kind," she exclaimed, "but I don't know when I shall be able +to repay you. It is—nearly three hundred pounds!"</p> + +<p>"So long as you keep your word," Berenice answered, "and do not play +again, you need never let that trouble you. You shall have the cheque +before two o'clock. No, please don't thank me. If you take my advice you +won't spend another week-end at Bristow. It is not a fit house for young +girls. How is your uncle?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen him this morning," Clara answered. "Perkins told me that +he came home after midnight with a man whom he seemed to have picked up +in the street, and they were in the study talking till nearly five this +morning."</p> + +<p>Berenice rose.</p> + +<p>"I came to see if you would care to drive down to Ranelagh with me this +morning," she said, "but you are evidently fit for nothing except to go +back to bed again. I won't forget the cheque, and remember me to your +uncle. By the bye, where's that nice young man who used to be always with +you down in the country?"</p> + +<p>"You must mean Mr. Lindsay," Clara answered. "I have no idea. At Blakely, +I suppose."</p> + +<p>"If I were you," Berenice said, as she rose, "I should write to him to +come up and look after you. You need it!"</p> + +<p>She nodded pleasantly and took her leave. Clara threw herself into a +chair and rang the bell.</p> + +<p>"Perkins," she said, "I have had no sleep and no breakfast. What should +you recommend?"</p> + +<p>"An egg beaten up in milk, miss," the man suggested, "same as I've just +taken Mr. Mannering."</p> + +<p>"Is my uncle up?" Clara asked.</p> + +<p>"Not yet, miss," the man answered; "He is just dressing."</p> + +<p>Clara nodded.</p> + +<p>"Very well. Please get me what you said, and if Sir Leslie Borrowdean +calls I want to see him at once."</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie is in the study now, miss," the man answered. "I showed him +in there because I thought he would want to see Mr. Mannering, but he +asked for you."</p> + +<p>"Will you say that I shall be there in three minutes," Clara said.</p> + +<p>The three minutes became rather a long quarter of an hour, but Clara had +used the time well. When she entered the library she had changed her +dress, rearranged her hair, and by some means or another had lost her +unnatural pallor. Sir Leslie greeted her a little gravely,</p> + +<p>"Glad to see you looking so fit," he remarked. "They did us a bit too +well down at Bristow, I thought. It's all very well for you children," +he continued, with a smile, "but when a man gets to my time of life he +misses a night's rest."</p> + +<p>She smiled.</p> + +<p>"You don't call yourself old, Sir Leslie!" she remarked.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm not young, although I like to think I am," he answered. "I'm +afraid there's pretty nearly a generation between us, Miss Clara. By the +bye, where's your uncle this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Getting up," she answered. "He did not go to bed until after five, +Perkins tells me. He brought some one home with him from Dorchester's +reception, or some one he picked up afterwards, and they seem to have sat +up talking all night."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean was interested.</p> + +<p>"You have no idea who it was, I suppose?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"None at all. Perkins had never seen him before. When do you poor +creatures get your holiday, Sir Leslie?"</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"The session will be over in about three weeks," he answered, "unless we +defeat the Government before then. Your uncle has been hitting them very +hard lately. I think before long we shall be in office."</p> + +<p>"Politics," she said, "seems to be rather a greedy sort of business. You +are always trying to turn the other side out, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"You must remember," he answered, "that politics is rather a one-sided +sort of affair. The party which is in makes a very comfortable living +out of it, and we who are out have to scrape along as best we can. Rather +hard upon people like your uncle and myself, who are, comparatively +speaking, poor men. That reminds me," he said, bringing out his +pocket-book, "I thought that I had better bring you these little +documents."</p> + +<p>"Those horrid I.O.U.'s," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered. "I am sorry that you were so unlucky. I bought these +from the bank, Miss Clara, as I thought you would not feel comfortable if +you had to leave Bristow owing this money to strangers."</p> + +<p>"It was very thoughtful of you," she murmured. He changed his seat and +came over to her side on the sofa.</p> + +<p>"Have you any idea how much they come to?" he asked, smoothing them out +upon his knee.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid to nearly three hundred pounds," she answered.</p> + +<p>He shook his head gravely.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to say that they come to a good deal more than that," he +said. "I hope you do not forget that I took the liberty of advising you +more than once to stop. You had the most abominable luck."</p> + +<p>"More than three hundred?" she gasped. "How much more?"</p> + +<p>"They seem to add up to five hundred and eighty five pounds," he +declared. "I must confess that I was surprised myself."</p> + +<p>"There—I think there must be some mistake," Clara faltered.</p> + +<p>He handed them to her.</p> + +<p>"You had better look them through," he said. "They seem all right."</p> + +<p>She took them in her hand, and looked at them helplessly. There was one +there for fifty pounds which she tried in vain to remember—and how shaky +her handwriting was. A sudden flood of recollection brought the colour +into her cheeks. She remembered the long table, the men all smoking, the +women most of them a little hard, a little too much in earnest—the soft +click of the ball, the silent, sickening moments of suspense. Others had +won or lost as much as she, but perhaps because she had been so much in +earnest, her ill-luck had attracted some attention. She remembered Major +Bristow's whispered offer, or rather suggestion, of help. Even now her +cheeks burned at something in his tone or look.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's all right," she said, dolefully, "only it's a lot more +than I thought. I shall have three hundred pounds in the morning, but +I've no idea where to get the rest."</p> + +<p>"You are sure about the three hundred?" Sir Leslie asked, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Quite."</p> + +<p>"Then I think that you had better let me lend you the rest, for the +present," he suggested. "I am afraid your uncle would be rather annoyed +to know that you had been gambling to such an extent. You may be able to +think of some way of paying me back later on."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him hesitatingly. There was nothing in his manner which +suggested in the least what Major Bristow had almost pronounced. She drew +a little breath of relief. He was so much older, and after all, he was +her uncle's friend.</p> + +<p>"Can you really spare it, Sir Leslie?" she asked. "I can't tell you how +grateful I should be."</p> + +<p>He looked down at her with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"I can spare it for the present," he answered. "Only if you see any +chance of paying me back before long, do so."</p> + +<p>"You will pardon my interference," said an ominously quiet voice from the +doorway, "but may I inquire into the nature of this transaction between +you and my niece, Sir Leslie? Perhaps you had better explain it, Clara!"</p> + +<p>They both turned quickly round. Mannering was standing upon the +threshold, the morning paper in his hand. Clara sank into a chair and +covered her face with her hands. Sir Leslie shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>He was congratulating himself upon the discretion with which he had +conducted the interview. He had for a few moments entertained other +ideas.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will allow me to explain—" he began.</p> + +<p>"I should prefer to hear my niece," Mannering answered, coldly.</p> + +<p>Clara looked up. She was pale and frightened, and she had hard work to +choke down the sobs.</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie was down at Bristow, where I was staying—this last +week-end," she explained. "I lost a good deal of money there at roulette. +He very kindly took up my I.O.U.'s for me, and was offering when you came +in to let it stand for a little time."</p> + +<p>"What is the amount?" Mannering asked.</p> + +<p>Clara did not answer. Her head sank again. Her uncle repeated his +inquiry. There was no note of anger in his tone. He might have been +speaking of an altogether indifferent matter.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I shall have to trouble you to tell me the exact amount," he +said. "Perhaps, Borrowdean, you would be so good as to inform me, as my +niece seems a little overcome."</p> + +<p>"The amount of the I.O.U.'s for which I gave my cheque," Borrowdean said, +"was five hundred and eighty-seven pounds. I have the papers here."</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence for a moment or two. Clara looked up furtively, +but she could learn nothing from her uncle's face. It was some time +before he spoke. When at last he did, his voice was certainly a little +lower and less distinct than usual.</p> + +<p>"Did I understand you to say—five hundred and eighty-seven pounds?"</p> + +<p>"That is the amount," Borrowdean admitted. "I trust that you do not +consider my interference in any way officious, Mannering. I thought it +best to settle the claims of perfect strangers against Miss Mannering."</p> + +<p>"May I ask," Mannering continued, "in whose house my niece was permitted +to lose this sum?"</p> + +<p>"It was at the Bristows'," Clara answered.</p> + +<p>"And under whose chaperonage were you?" Mannering asked.</p> + +<p>"Lady Bristow's! She called for me here, and took me down last Friday."</p> + +<p>"Are these people who are generally accounted respectable?" Mannering +asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't think that Bristow is much better or worse than half of our +country houses," Borrowdean answered. "People who are at all in the swim +must have excitement nowadays, you know. Bristow himself isn't very +popular, but people go to the house."</p> + +<p>Mannering made no further remark.</p> + +<p>"If you will come into the study, Borrowdean," he said, "I will settle +this matter with you."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Your niece said something about having three hundred pounds," he +remarked.</p> + +<p>Mannering glanced towards her.</p> + +<p>"I think," he said, "that that must be a mistake. My niece has no such +sum at her command."</p> + +<p>Clara rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"You may as well know everything," she said. "The Duchess of Lenchester +came in and found me very unhappy this morning. I told her everything, +and she offered to lend me the money. I told her then that it was only +three hundred pounds. I thought that was all I owed."</p> + +<p>"Have you made any other confidants?" Mannering asked.</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"You will return the Duchess's cheque," Mannering said. "Borrowdean, will +you come this way?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Va" id="CHAPTER_Va"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>LOVE <i>versus</i> POLITICS</h3> + + +<p>Berenice was a little annoyed. It was the hour before dressing for dinner +which she always devoted to repose—the hour saved from the stress of the +day which had helped towards keeping her the young woman she certainly +was. Yet Borrowdean's message was too urgent to ignore. She suffered her +maid to wrap some sort of loose gown about her, and received him in her +own study.</p> + +<p>"My dear Sir Leslie," she said, a little reproachfully, "was this really +necessary? You know that after half-past six I am practically a person +not existing—until dinner time!"</p> + +<p>"I should not have ventured to intrude upon you," Borrowdean said, +quickly, "if the circumstances had not been altogether exceptional. +I know your habits too well. I have just come from Mannering."</p> + +<p>"From Mannering—yes!"</p> + +<p>"Duchess," Borrowdean said, "have you—forgive a blunt question—but have +you any influence over him?"</p> + +<p>Berenice was silent for several moments.</p> + +<p>"You ask me rather a hard question," she said. "A few months ago I think +that I should have said yes. To-day—I am not sure. What has happened? +Is anything wrong with him?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, except that he seems to have gone mad," Borrowdean said, +bitterly. "I went to him to-day to get him to fix the dates for his +meetings at Glasgow and Leeds. What do you think his answer was?"</p> + +<p>"Don't tell me that he wants to back out!" Berenice exclaimed. "Don't +tell me that!"</p> + +<p>"Almost as bad! He told me quite coolly that he was not prepared finally +to set out his views upon the question until he had completed a course of +personal investigation in some of the Northern centres of trade, to which +he had committed himself."</p> + +<p>Berenice looked bewildered.</p> + +<p>"But what on earth does he mean?" she exclaimed. "Surely he knows all +that there is to be known. His mastery of statistics is something +wonderful."</p> + +<p>"What he means no man save himself can even surmise," Borrowdean +answered. "He told me that he had had information of a state of distress +in some of our Northern towns—Newcastle and Hull he mentioned, and some +of the Lancashire places—which had simply appalled him. He was +determined to verify it personally, and to commit himself to nothing +further until he had done so. And he even asked me if I could not find +him a pair until the end of the session, so that he could get away at +once. I was simply dumbfounded. A pair for Mannering!"</p> + +<p>Berenice rose to her feet. She walked up and down the little room +restlessly.</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie," she said at last, "I am not sure whether I have what you +would call any influence over Mr. Mannering now or not. I might have had +but for you!"</p> + +<p>"For me?" Borrowdean exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes. It was you who told me of—of—that woman," she said, haughtily, +but with the colour rising almost to her temples. "After that, of course +things were different between us. We are scarcely upon such terms at +present as would justify my interference."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean dropped his eyeglass, and swung it deliberately by its black +ribbon. He looked steadily at Berenice, but his eyes seemed to travel +past her.</p> + +<p>"My dear Duchess," he said, quietly, "the game of life is a great one to +play, and we who would keep our hands upon the board must of necessity +make sacrifices. It is your duty to disregard in this instance your +feelings towards Mannering. You must consider only his feelings towards +you. They are such, I believe, as to give you a hold over him. You must +make use of that hold for the sake of a great cause."</p> + +<p>Berenice raised her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! You seem to forget, Sir Leslie, that my share in this game, as +you call it, must always be a passive one. I have no office to gain, no +rewards to reap. Why should I commit myself to an unpleasant task for the +sake of you and your friends?"</p> + +<p>"It is your party," he protested. "Your party as much as ours."</p> + +<p>"Granted," she answered. "Yet who are the responsible members of it? You +know my opinion of Mannering as a politician. I would sooner follow him +blindfold than all the others with my eyes open. Whatever he may lack, he +is the most honest and right-seeing politician who ever entered the +House."</p> + +<p>"He lacks but one thing," Borrowdean said, "the mechanical adjustment +of the born politician to party matters. There was never a time when +absolute unity and absolute force were so necessary. If he is going to +play the intelligent inquirer, if he falters for one moment in his +wholesale condemnation of this scheme, he loses the day for himself and +for us. The one thing which the political public never forgives is +the man who stops to think."</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to do?" Berenice asked.</p> + +<p>"To go to him and find out what he means, what influences have been at +work, what is underneath it all. Warn him of the danger of even appearing +doubtful, or for a moment lukewarm. The one person whom the public will +not have in politics is the trifler. Think how many there have been, +brilliant men, too, who have lost their places through a single false +step, a single year, a month of dilettantism. Remind him of them. The man +who moves in a great cause may move slowly, if you will, but he must move +all the time. Remind him, too, that he is risking the one great chance of +his life!"</p> + +<p>"He is to be Premier, then?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes! There is no alternative!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," she said, "I will go. I make no promises, mind. I will +listen to what he has to say. I will put our view of the situation before +him. But I make no promises. It is possible, even, that I shall come to +his point of view, whatever it may be."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean smiled.</p> + +<p>"I have no fear of that," he declared, "but at least it would be +something to know what this point of view is. You will find him in a +queer mood. That little fool of a niece of his has been getting in with +a fast set, and making the money fly. You have heard of her last escapade +at Bristow?"</p> + +<p>Berenice nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said. "I went there this morning directly I had your note. +I feel rather self-reproachful about Clara Mannering. I meant to have +looked after her more. She is rather an uninteresting young woman, +though, and I am afraid I have let her drift away."</p> + +<p>"She will be all right with a little looking after," Borrowdean said. +"Forgive me, but it is getting late."</p> + +<p>"I will go at once," she said.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Afterwards she wondered often at that strange, uncertain fluttering of +the heart, the rush and glow of feelings warmer than any which had lately +stirred her, which seemed in those first few minutes of their being +together, to make an altered woman of her. Mannering, as he entered the +room, pale and listless, was conscious at once of a foreign element in +it, something which stirred his somewhat slow-beating pulse, too, which +seemed to bring back to him a flood of delicious memories, the perfume of +his rose-gardens at evening, the soft night music of his wind-stirred +cedars. She had thrown aside her opera cloak. The delicate lines of her +bust seemed to have expanded with the unusual rise and fall of her bosom. +A faint rose-tint flush of streaming colour had stained the ivory +whiteness of her skin—her eyes as they sought his were soft, almost +liquid. They met so seldom alone—and she was alone now with him in the +room which was so characteristically his own, a room with many +indications of his constant presence, which one by one she had been +realizing with curiously quickened pulses during the few minutes of +waiting. On her way here, driving in an open victoria, through the soft +summer evening, she had seemed to be pursued everywhere by a new world of +sensuous suggestions. Of the many carriages which she had passed, hers +alone seemed to savour of loneliness. She was the only beautiful woman +who sat alone and companionless. In a momentary block she had seen a man +in a neighbouring hansom slip his hand, a strong, brown, well-looking +hand, under the apron, to hold for a moment the fingers of the woman who +sat by his side—Berenice had caught the answering smile, she had seen +him lean forward and whisper something which had brought a deeper flush +into her own cheeks and a look into her eyes, half amused, half tender. +These were rare moments with her, these moments of sentiment—perhaps for +that reason all the more dangerous. She forgot almost the cause of her +coming. She remembered only that she was alone with the one man whose +voice had the power to thrill her, whose touch would call up into life +the great hidden forces of her own passionate nature. The memory of all +other things passed away from her like a cloud gone from the face of the +sun. She leaned towards him. His face was full of wonder—wonder, and the +coming joy.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill5_th.jpg"><img src="images/ill5_th.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + + +<p>"Berenice!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She let herself drift down the surging tide of this suddenly awakened +passion. She held out her arms and pressed her lips on his as he caught +her.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Presently she pushed him gently away—held him there at arm's length.</p> + +<p>"This is too absurd," she murmured, and drew him once more towards her +with a choking little laugh. "I came for something quite different!"</p> + +<p>"What does it matter what you came for, so long as you stay," he +answered. "Say that you came to bring a glimpse of paradise to a lonely +man!"</p> + +<p>She disengaged herself, and her long white fingers strayed mechanically +to her tumbled hair. The elegant precision of her toilette had given +place to a most distracting disarray. She felt her cheeks burning still, +and the lace at her bosom was all crushed.</p> + +<p>"And I was on my way to a dinner party," she whispered, with humorously +uplifted eyebrows. "I must drive back home, and—and—"</p> + +<p>"And what?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"And send an excuse," she declared, demurely. "I am not equal to a family +dinner party."</p> + +<p>"And afterwards?"</p> + +<p>She smiled.</p> + +<p>"Would you like," she asked, "to take me out to dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Would I like!"</p> + +<p>"Go and change, and call for me in half an hour. We can go somewhere +where we are not likely to be seen," she said, softly. "I must cover +myself up in my cloak. Whatever will Perkins say? Please remember that +I have no hat."</p> + +<p>He held her hands and looked into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Don't go for one moment," he pleaded. "I want to realize it. I want to +feel sure of you."</p> + +<p>The gravity of his manner was for a moment reflected in her tone.</p> + +<p>"I think," she said, "that you may feel sure. There are things which we +may have to say to one another—presently—but—"</p> + +<p>He stooped and kissed her fingers.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIa" id="CHAPTER_VIa"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE CONSCIENCE OF A STATESMAN</h3> + + +<p>He was shown into her own little boudoir by a smiling maid-servant, who +seemed already to treat him with an especial consideration. The wonder of +this thing was still lying like a thrall upon him, and yet he knew that +the joy of life was burning once more in his veins. He caught sight of +himself in a mirror, and he was amazed. The careworn look had gone from +his eyes, the sallowness from his complexion. His step was elastic, he +felt the firm, quick beat of his heart, even his pulses seem to throb to +a new and a wonderful tune. These moments whilst he waited for her were a +joy to him. The atmosphere was fragrant with the perfume of her favourite +roses, a book lay upon the little inlaid table face downwards as she had +left it. There was a delicately engraved etching upon the wall, which he +recognized as her work; the watercolours, all of a French school which he +had often praised, were of her choosing. Perfect though the room was in +colouring and detail, there was yet a habitable, almost a homely, air +about it. Mannering moved about amidst her treasures like a man in a +dream, only it was a dream of loneliness gone forever, of a grey life +suddenly coloured and transformed. It was wonderful.</p> + +<p>Then the soft swish of a skirt, and she came in. She had changed her +gown. She wore white lace, with a string of pearls about her neck. He +looked eagerly into her face, and a great relief took the place of that +single instant of haunting fear. The change was still there. It was not +the great lady who swept in, but the woman who has found an answer to +the one question of life, a little tremulous still, a little less +self-assured. She looked at him almost appealingly. A delicate tinge of +colour lingered in her cheeks. He moved quickly forward to meet her.</p> + +<p>"Dear!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>He raised her hand to his lips. He was satisfied.</p> + +<p>"You see what my new-born vanity has led to," she declared, smilingly. "I +have had to keep you waiting whilst I changed my gown. I hope you like me +in white."</p> + +<p>"You are adorable," he declared.</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," she said, "would you mind dining here alone with me? It will +be quite a scratch meal, but I thought that it would be cosier than a +restaurant, and afterwards—we could come in here and talk."</p> + +<p>"I should like it better than anything in the world," he declared, +truthfully.</p> + +<p>"You may take me in, then," she said. "I hope that you are as hungry as +I am. No, not that way. I have ordered dinner to be served in the little +room where I dine when I am alone."</p> + +<p>To Mannering there seemed something almost unreal about the chaste +perfection of the meal and its wonderful service. They dined at a small +round table, so small that more than once their fingers touched upon the +tablecloth. A single servant waited upon them, swiftly and perfectly. The +butler appeared only with the wine, which he served, and quietly +withdrew. Across the tangled mass of flowers, only a few feet away all +the time, sat the woman who had suddenly made the world so beautiful to +him. A murmur of conversation continually flowed between them, but he was +never very sure what they were talking about. He wanted to sit still, to +feast his eyes, all his senses, upon her, to strive to realize this new +thing, that from henceforth she was his! And then suddenly she broke the +spell. She leaned back in her chair and laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"I have just remembered," she said, in response to his inquiring look, +"why I came to call upon you this evening. What a long time ago it +seems."</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"And I never thought to ask you," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"We must have no secrets now," she said, with a delightful smile. "Leslie +Borrowdean came to see me this afternoon, and he was very anxious about +you. He declared that you wanted to postpone your great meetings in the +North until after you had made some independent investigations in some of +the manufacturing centres. Poor Sir Leslie! You had frightened him so +completely that he was scarcely coherent."</p> + +<p>Mannering smiled a little gravely. It was like coming back to earth.</p> + +<p>"Politics with Borrowdean are so much a matter of pounds, shillings and +pence that the bare idea of his finding himself a day further away from +office frightens him to death," he said. "We are all like the pawns, to +be moved about the chessboard of his life."</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled.</p> + +<p>"He is certainly a very self-centred person," she remarked; "but do +you know, I am really a little curious to know how you succeeded in +frightening him so thoroughly."</p> + +<p>"I had a fright myself," Mannering said. "I was made to feel for an hour +or so like a Rip van Winkle with the cobwebs hanging about me—Rip van +Winkle looking out upon a new world!"</p> + +<p>"You a Rip van Winkle!" she laughed. "What was it that man who wrote in +the <i>Nineteenth Century</i> called you last week? 'The most precise and +far-seeing of our politicians.'"</p> + +<p>"The men who write in reviews," he murmured, "sometimes display the most +appalling ignorance. There was also some one in the <i>Saturday Review</i> who +alluded to me last week as a library politician. My friend quoted that +against me. 'A man who essays to govern a people he knows nothing of.' It +was one of the labour party who wrote it, I know, but it sticks."</p> + +<p>"You are not losing confidence in yourself, surely?" she remarked, +smiling.</p> + +<p>"My views are unchanged, if that is what you mean," he answered. "I +believe I know what is good for the people, and when I am sure of it I +shall not be afraid to take up the gauntlet. But I must be quite sure."</p> + +<p>"You puzzle me a little," she admitted. "Has any one written more +convincingly than you? Arguments which are founded upon logic and +statistics must yield truth, and you have set it down in black and +white."</p> + +<p>"On the other hand," he said, "my unlearned but eloquent friend dismissed +all statistics, all the science of argument and deduction, with the wave +of a not too scrupulously clean hand. 'Figures,' he said, 'are dead +things. They are the playthings of the charlatan politician, who, by a +sort of mental sleight of hand, can make them perform the most wonderful +antics. If you desire the truth, seek it from live things. If you desire +really to call yourself the champion of the people, come and see for +yourself how they are faring. Figures will not feed them, nor statistics +keep them from the great despair. Come and let me show you the sinews of +the country, whether they are sound or rotten. You cannot see them +through your library walls. It is only the echo of their voice which you +hear so far off. If you would really be the people's man, come and learn +something of the people from their own lips.' This is what my friend said +to me."</p> + +<p>"And who," she asked, "was this prophet who came to you and talked like +this?"</p> + +<p>"A retired bookmaker," he answered. "I will tell you of our meeting."</p> + +<p>She listened gravely. After he had finished there was a short silence. +The dessert was on the table, and they were alone. Berenice was looking +thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he begged, "exactly what that wrinkled forehead means?"</p> + +<p>"I was wondering," she said, "whether Sir Leslie was right, when he said +that you had too much conscience ever to be a great politician."</p> + +<p>"It mirrors Borrowdean's outlook upon politics precisely," he remarked.</p> + +<p>She smiled at him with a sudden radiance. She had risen to her feet, and +with a quick, graceful movement leaned over him. This new womanliness +which he had found so irresistible was alight once more in her face. Her +eyes sought his fondly, she touched his lips with hers. The perfume of +her clothes, the touch of her hair upon his cheek, were like a drug. He +had no more words.</p> + +<p>"You may have one peach and one glass of the Prince's Burgundy, and then +you must come and look for me," she said. "We have wasted too much time +talking of other things. You haven't even told me yet what I have a right +to hear, you know. I want to be told that you care for me better than +anything else in the world."</p> + +<p>He caught her hands. There was a rare passion vibrating in his tone.</p> + +<p>"You do not doubt it, Berenice?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," she answered, "but I want to be told. I am a middle-aged +woman, you know, Lawrence, but I want to be made love to as though I were +a silly girl! Isn't that foolish? But you must do it," she whispered, +with her lips very close to his.</p> + +<p>He drew her into his arms.</p> + +<p>"I am not at all sure," he said, "that I have enough courage to make love +to a Duchess!"</p> + +<p>"Then you can remember only that I am a woman," she whispered, "very, +very, very much a woman, and—I'm afraid—a woman shockingly in love!"</p> + +<p>She disengaged herself suddenly, and was at the door before he could +reach it. She looked back. Her cheeks were flushed. There was even a +faint tinge of pink underneath the creamy white of her slender, stately +neck.</p> + +<p>"Don't dare," she said, "to be more than five minutes!"</p> + +<p>Mannering poured himself out a glass of wine, and sat quite still with +his head between his hands. He wanted to realize this thing if he could. +The grinding of the great wheels fell no more upon his ears. He looked +into a new world, so different from the old that he was almost afraid.</p> + +<p>And in her room, Berenice waited for him impatiently.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIa" id="CHAPTER_VIIa"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>A BLOW FOR BORROWDEAN</h3> + + +<p>There was a somewhat unusual alertness in Borrowdean's manner as he +passed out from the little house in Sloane Gardens and summoned a passing +hansom. He drove to the corner of Hyde Park, and dismissing the cab +strolled along the broad walk.</p> + +<p>The many acquaintances whom he passed and repassed he greeted with a +certain amount of abstraction. All the time he kept his eyes upon the +road. He was waiting to catch sight of some familiar liveries. When at +last they came he contrived to stop the carriage and hastily threaded his +way to the side of the barouche.</p> + +<p>Berenice was looking radiantly beautiful. The exquisite simplicity of her +white muslin gown and large hat of black feathers, the slight flush with +which she received him, as though she carried about with her a secret +which she expected every one to read, the extinction of that air of +listlessness which had robbed her for some time of a certain share of her +good looks—of all these things Borrowdean made quick note. His face grew +graver as he accepted her not very enthusiastic invitation and occupied +the back seat of the carriage. For the first time he admitted to himself +the possibility of failure in his carefully laid plans. He recognized the +fact, that there were forces at work against which he had no weapon +ready. He had believed that Berenice was attracted by Mannering's +personality and genius. He had never seriously considered the question of +her feelings becoming more deeply involved. So many men had paid vain +court to her. She had a wonderful reputation for inaccessibility. And yet +he remembered her manner when he had paid his first unexpected visit to +Blakely. It should have been a lesson to him. How far had the mischief +gone, he wondered!</p> + +<p>"So Mannering has gone North," he remarked, noticing that she avoided the +subject.</p> + +<p>She nodded. Her parasol drooped a little his way, and he wondered whether +it was because she desired her face hidden.</p> + +<p>"You saw him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered. "He explained how he felt to me."</p> + +<p>"And you could not dissuade him?"</p> + +<p>"I did not try," she answered, simply. "Lawrence Mannering is not a man +of ordinary disposition, you know. He had come to the conclusion that it +was right for him to go, and opposition would only have made him the more +determined. I cannot see that there is any harm likely to come of it."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of that," Borrowdean answered, seriously. "Mannering is +<i>au fond</i> a man of sentiment. There is no clearer thinker or speaker when +his judgment is unbiassed, but on the other hand, the man's nature is +sensitive and complex. He has a sort of maudlin self-consciousness which +is as dangerous a thing as the nonconformist conscience. Heaven knows +into whose hands he may fall up there."</p> + +<p>"He is going incognito," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"He is not the sort of man to escape notice," Borrowdean answered. "He +will be discovered for certain. Of course, if it comes off all right, the +whole thing will be a feather in his cap. But when I think how much we +are dependent upon him, I don't like the risk."</p> + +<p>"You are sure," she remarked, thoughtfully, "that you do not over-rate—"</p> + +<p>"Mannering himself, perhaps," Borrowdean interrupted. "There is no man +whose personal place cannot be filled. But one thing is very certain. +Mannering is the only man who unites both sides of our scattered party, +the only man under whom Fergusson and Johns would both serve. You know +quite well the curse which has rested upon us. We have become a party of +units, and our whole effectiveness is destroyed. We want welding into one +entity. A single session, a single year of office, and the thing would be +done. We who do the mechanical work would see that there was no breaking +away again. But we must have that year, we must have Mannering. That is +why I watch him like a child, and I must say that he has given me a good +deal of anxiety lately."</p> + +<p>"In what way?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean hesitated. He seemed uncertain how to answer.</p> + +<p>"If I explain what I mean," he said, "you will understand that I do not +speak to you as a woman and an acquaintance of Mannering's, but simply as +one of ourselves. Mannering's private life is, of course, interesting to +me only as an index to his political destiny, and my acquaintance with it +arises solely from my political interest in him. There are things in +connection with it which I feel that I shall never properly be able to +understand."</p> + +<p>She looked at him steadily. Her cheeks were a little whiter, but her tone +was deliberate.</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to hear anything about Mr. Mannering's private life," she +said. "You will understand that I am not free or disposed to listen when +I tell you that I am going to marry him."</p> + +<p>This was perhaps the worst blow Borrowdean had ever experienced in the +course of his whole life. The possibility of this was a danger which he +had recognized might some time have to be reckoned with, but for the +present he had felt safe enough. He was taken so completely aback that +for a few moments his mind was a blank. He remained silent.</p> + +<p>"You do not offer me the conventional wishes," she remarked, presently.</p> + +<p>"They go—from me to you—as a matter of course," he answered. "To tell +you the truth, I never thought of Mannering, for many reasons, as a +marrying man."</p> + +<p>"You will have to readjust your views of him," she said, quietly, "for +I think that we shall be married very soon."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean was a little white, and his teeth had come together. Whatever +happened, he told himself, fiercely, this must never be. He felt his +breast-pocket mechanically. Yes, the letter was there. Dare he risk it? +She was a proud woman, she would be unforgiving if once she believed. But +supposing she found him out? He temporized.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for telling me," he said. "Do you mind putting me down here?"</p> + +<p>"Why? You seemed in no hurry a few minutes ago."</p> + +<p>"The world," he said, "was a different place then."</p> + +<p>She looked at him searchingly.</p> + +<p>"You had better tell me all about it," she remarked. "You have something +on your mind, something which you are half disposed to tell me, a little +more than half, I think. Go on."</p> + +<p>He looked at her as one might look at the magician who has achieved the +apparently impossible.</p> + +<p>"You are wonderful," he said. "Yes, I will tell you my dilemma, if you +like. I have just come from Sloane Gardens!"</p> + +<p>Her face changed instantly. It was as though a mask had been dropped over +it. Her eyes were fixed, her features expressionless.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she said, simply.</p> + +<p>He drew a letter from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"You may as well see it yourself," he remarked. "For reasons which you +may doubtless understand, I have always kept on good terms with Mrs. +Phillimore, and she was to have dined with me and some other friends +to-morrow night. Here is a note which I had from her yesterday. Will you +read it?"</p> + +<p>Berenice held it between her finger tips. There were only a few lines, +and she read them at a glance.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +<span class="smcap">Sloane Gardens</span>,<br /> +<i>Tuesday</i>. +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Sir Leslie</span>,</p> + +<p>I am so sorry, but I must scratch for to-morrow night. L. is going North +on some mysterious expedition, and I am afraid that he will want me to go +with him. In fact, he has already said so. Ask me again some time, won't +you?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yours ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Blanche Phillimore</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Berenice folded up the letter and returned it.</p> + +<p>"It is a little extraordinary," she remarked. "I am much obliged to you +for showing me this. If you do not mind, we will talk of something else. +Look, there is Clara Mannering alone under the trees. Go and talk to +her."</p> + +<p>Berenice touched the checkstring, and Borrowdean was forced to depart. +She smiled upon him graciously enough, but she spoke not another word +about Mannering. Borrowdean was obliged to leave her without knowing +whether he had lost or gained the trick.</p> + +<p>Clara Mannering received him not altogether graciously. As a matter of +fact, she was looking for some one else. They strolled along, talking +almost in monosyllables. Borrowdean found time to notice the change which +even these few months in London had wrought in her. She was still +graceful in her movements, but a smart dressmaker had contrived to make +her a perfect reproduction of the recognized type of the moment. She had +lost her delicate colouring. There was a certain hardness in her young +face, a certain pallor and listlessness in her movements which Borrowdean +did not fail to note. He tried to lead the conversation into more +personal channels.</p> + +<p>"We seem to have met very little during the last month," he said. "I have +scarcely had an opportunity to ask you whether you find the life here as +pleasant as you hoped, whether it has realized your expectations."</p> + +<p>"Does anything ever do that?" she asked, a little flippantly. "It is +different, of course. I do not think that I should be willing to go back +to Blakely, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"You have made a great many friends," he remarked. "I hear of you +continually."</p> + +<p>"A host of acquaintances," she remarked. "I do not think that I have +materially increased the circle of my friends. I hear of you too, Sir +Leslie, very often. It seems that people give you a good deal of credit +for inducing my uncle to come back into politics."</p> + +<p>"I certainly did my best to persuade him," Sir Leslie answered, smoothly. +"If I had known how much anxiety he was going to cause us I might perhaps +have been a little less keen."</p> + +<p>"Anxiety!" she repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes! Do you know where he is now?"</p> + +<p>"I have no idea," Clara answered. "All that I do know is that he has gone +away for three weeks, and that I am going to stay with the Duchess till +he comes back. It is very nice of her, and all that, of course, but I +feel rather as though I were going into prison. The Duchess isn't exactly +the modern sort of chaperon."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean nodded sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"And consider my anxiety," he remarked. "Your uncle has gone North to +consider the true position of the labouring classes. Now Mr. Mannering is +a brilliant politician and a sound thinker, but he is also a man of +sentiment. They will drug him with it up there. He will probably come +back with half a dozen new schemes, and we don't want them, you know. He +ought to be speaking at Glasgow and Leeds this week. He simply ignores +his responsibilities. He yields to a sudden whim and leaves us <i>plantes +la</i>."</p> + +<p>She seemed scarcely to have heard the conclusion of his sentence. Her +attention was fixed upon a group of men who were talking near.</p> + +<p>"Do you know—isn't that Major Bristow?" she asked Borrowdean, abruptly.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean put up his glass.</p> + +<p>"Looks like him," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"I should be so much obliged," she said, "if you would tell him that +I wish to see him. I have a message for his sister," she concluded, +a little lamely.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean did as he was asked. He noticed the slight impatience of the +man as he delivered his message, and the flush with which she greeted +him. Then, with a little shrug of the shoulders, he pursued his way.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIIa" id="CHAPTER_VIIIa"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>A PAGE FROM THE PAST</h3> + + +<p>She swept into the room, humming a light opera tune, bringing with her +the usual flood of perfumes, suggestion of cosmetics, a vivid apparition +of the artificial. Her skirts rustled aggressively, her voice was just +one degree too loud. Mannering rose to his feet a little wearily.</p> + +<p>She looked at him with raised eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Heavens!" she exclaimed. "What have you been doing with yourself, +Lawrence? You look like a ghost!"</p> + +<p>"I am quite well," he answered, calmly.</p> + +<p>"Then you don't look it," she answered, bluntly. "Where have you been for +the last few weeks?"</p> + +<p>"Up in the North," he answered. "It was very hot, and I had a great deal +to do. I suppose I am suffering, like the rest of us, from a little +overwork."</p> + +<p>She spread herself out in a chair opposite to him.</p> + +<p>"Don't stand," she said; "you fidget me. I have something to say to you."</p> + +<p>"So I gathered from your note," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"You haven't hurried."</p> + +<p>"I only got back to London last night," he answered. "I could scarcely +come sooner, could I?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not," she admitted.</p> + +<p>Then for a moment or two she was silent. She was watching him a little +curiously.</p> + +<p>"Is this true?" she asked, "this rumour?"</p> + +<p>"Won't you be a little more explicit?" he begged.</p> + +<p>"They say that you are going to marry the Duchess of Lenchester!"</p> + +<p>"It is true," he answered.</p> + +<p>She leaned forward. Her clasped hands rested upon her knee. She seemed to +be examining the tip of her patent shoe. Suddenly she looked up at him.</p> + +<p>"You ought to have come and told me yourself!" she said.</p> + +<p>"I had no opportunity," he reminded her. "I left London the morning +after—it happened—and I returned last night."</p> + +<p>"Political business?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Entirely."</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she said, "I don't like it."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" he asked. "Has mine been such a successful life, do you think, +that you need grudge me a little happiness towards its close?"</p> + +<p>"Bosh!" she answered. "You are only forty-six. You are a young man +still."</p> + +<p>"I had forgotten my years," he declared. "I only know that I am tired."</p> + +<p>"You look it," she remarked. "I must say that there is very little of the +triumphant suitor about you. You work too hard, Lawrence."</p> + +<p>"If I do," he asked, with a note of fierceness in his tone, "whose fault +is it? I was almost happy at Blakely. I had almost learned to forget. It +was you who dragged me out again. You were not satisfied with half of my +income; you were always in debt, always wanting more money. Then +Borrowdean made use of you. He wanted me back into politics, you wanted +more money for your follies and extravagances. Back I had to come into +harness. Blanche, I've tried to do my duty to you, but there is a limit. +I owed you a comfortable place in life, and I have tried to see that you +have it. I have never refused anything you have asked me, I have never +mentioned the sacrifices which I have been forced to make. But there is +a limit. I draw it here. I will not suffer any interference between the +Duchess of Lenchester and myself!"</p> + +<p>Blanche Phillimore rose slowly to her feet. He was used to her fits of +passion, but there was no sign of anything of the sort in her face. She +was agitated, but in some new way. Her words were an attack, but her +manner suggested rather an appeal. Her large, fine eyes, her one +perfectly natural feature, were soft and luminous. They seemed somehow to +transfigure her face. To him it seemed like the foolish, handsome woman +of fifteen years ago who had suddenly come to life again.</p> + +<p>"You owed me—a comfortable place in life, Lawrence! Thank—you. You have +paid the debt very well. You owed me—a respectable guardianship; you +paid that, too. Thank you again. Now tell me, do you owe me nothing +else?"</p> + +<p>"I owed you one debt," he said, gravely, "which neither I nor any other +man who incurs it can ever discharge."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you realize it," she answered. "But have you ever tried to +discharge it? You have given me a home and money to throw away on any +folly which could kill thought. What about the rest?"</p> + +<p>"Blanche," he said, gravely, "the rest was impossible! You know that as +well as I do."</p> + +<p>"It is fifteen years ago, Lawrence," she said, "and all that time we have +fenced with our words. Now I am going to speak a little more plainly. You +robbed me of my husband. The fault may not have been wholly yours, but +the fact remains. You struck him, and he died. I was left alone!"</p> + +<p>Mannering's face was ashen. The whole horrible scene was rising up again +before him. He covered his face with his hands. It was more distinct than +ever. He saw the man's flushed face, heard his stream of abuse, felt the +sting of his blow, the hot anger with which he had struck back. Then +those few awful moments of suspense, the moment afterwards when they had +looked at one another. He shivered! Why had she let loose this flood of +memories? She was speaking to him again.</p> + +<p>"I was left alone," she repeated, quietly, "and I have been alone ever +since. You don't know much about women, Lawrence. You never did! Try and +realize, though, what that must mean to a woman like myself, not strong, +not clever, with very few resources—just a woman. I cared for my +husband, I suppose, in an average sort of way. At any rate he loved me. +Then—there was you. Oh, you never made love to me, of course. You were +not the sort of man to make love to another man's wife. But you used to +show that you liked to be with me, Lawrence. Your voice and your eyes and +your whole manner used to tell me that. Then there came—that hideous +day! I lost you both. What have I had since, Lawrence?"</p> + +<p>"Very little, I am afraid, worth having."</p> + +<p>"'Very little—worth having'!" She flung the words from her with +passionate scorn. "I had your alms, your cold, hurried visits, when you +seemed to shiver if our fingers touched. It would have seemed to you, I +suppose, a terrible sin to have touched the lips of the woman whom you +had helped to rob of her husband, to have spoken kindly to her, to have +given her at least a little affection to warm her heart. Poor me! What a +hell you made of my days, with your selfish model life, your panderings +to conscience. I didn't want much, you know, Lawrence," she said, with a +sudden choking in her voice. "I would never have robbed you of your peace +of mind. All I wanted was kindness. And I think, Lawrence, that it was a +debt, but you never paid it."</p> + +<p>Mannering had a moment of self-revelation, a terrible, lurid moment. +Every word that she had said was true.</p> + +<p>"You have never spoken to me like this before," he reminded her, +desperately. "I never knew that you cared."</p> + +<p>"Don't lie!" she answered, calmly. "You turned your head away that you +might not see. In your heart you knew very well. What else, do you think, +made me, a very ordinary, nervous sort of woman, get you out of the house +that day, tell my story, the story that shielded you, without faltering, +put even the words into your own mouth? It was because I was fool enough +to care! And oh, my God, how you have tortured me since! You would sit +there, coldly censorious, and reason with me about my friends, my manner +of life. I knew what you thought. You didn't hide it very well. Lawrence, +I wonder I didn't kill you!"</p> + +<p>"I wish that you had," he said, bitterly.</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know how you are feeling just now," she said. "Truth strikes home, +you know, and it hurts just a little, doesn't it? In a few days your +admirable common sense will prevail. You will say to yourself: 'She was +that sort of woman, she had that sort of disposition, she was bound to +go to the dogs, anyway!' So you are going to marry the Duchess of +Lenchester, Lawrence!"</p> + +<p>He stood up.</p> + +<p>"Blanche," he said, "that was all a mistake. I didn't understand. Let us +forget that day altogether. Marry me now, and I will try to make up for +these past years."</p> + +<p>She stared at him blankly. The colour in her cheek was like a lurid patch +under the pallor of her skin. She gave a little gasp, and her hand went +to her side. Then she laughed hardly, almost offensively.</p> + +<p>"What a man of sentiment," she declared. "After fifteen years, too, and +only just engaged to another woman! No, thank you, my dear Lawrence. I've +lived my life, such as it has been. I'm not so very old, but I look +fifty, and I've vices enough to blacken an entire neighbourhood. Fancy, +if people saw me, and heard that you might have married the Duchess of +Lenchester. They'd hint at an asylum."</p> + +<p>"Never mind about other people," he said. "Give me a chance, Blanche, to +show that I'm not such an absolute brute."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish," she interrupted. "Fifteen years ago I would have married you. +In fact, I expected to. The reason why I found the courage to shield you +from any unpleasantness that awful day was because I knew if trouble came +and there was any scandal you would feel yourself obliged to marry me, +and I wanted you to marry me—because you wanted to. What an idiot I was! +Now, please go away, Lawrence. Marry the Duchess, if you like, but don't +worry me with your re-awakened conscience. I'm going my own way for the +rest of my few years, and the less I see of you the better I shall be +pleased. You will forgive me—but I have an engagement—down the river! +I really must hurry you off."</p> + +<p>Her teeth were set close together, the sobs seemed tangled in her throat. +It seemed to her that all the longing in her life was concentrated in +that one passionate desire, that he should seize her in his arms now, +hold her there—tell her that it had all been a mistake, that the ugly +times were dreams, that after all he had cared—a little! The room swam +round with her, but she pointed smilingly to the door, which her trim +parlour-maid was holding open. And Mannering went.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IXa" id="CHAPTER_IXa"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE FALTERING OF MANNERING</h3> + + +<p>Mannering left by the afternoon train for Hampshire, where he was to be +the guest for a few days of the leader of his party. He arrived without +sending word of his coming, to find the whole of the house party absent +at a cricket match. The short respite was altogether welcome to him. He +changed his clothes and wandered off into the gardens. Here an hour or so +later Berenice's maid found him.</p> + +<p>"Her Grace would like to see you, sir, if you would come to her +sitting-room," the girl said, with a demure smile.</p> + +<p>Mannering, with something of an inward groan, followed her. Berenice, +very slim and stately in her simple white muslin gown, rose from the +couch as he entered, and held out her hands.</p> + +<p>"At last," she murmured. "You provoking man, to stay away so long. And +what have you been doing with yourself?"</p> + +<p>Her sentence concluded with a little note of dismay. Mannering was +positively haggard in the clear afternoon light. There were lines +underneath his eyes, and his face had a tense, drawn appearance. He did +not kiss her, as she had more than half expected. He held her hands for +a moment, and then sank down upon the couch by her side.</p> + +<p>"It was not exactly easy work—up there," he said.</p> + +<p>She noticed the repression.</p> + +<p>"Tell me all about it," she begged.</p> + +<p>His thoughts surged back to those three weeks of tragedy. His personal +misery became for the moment a shadowy thing. The sorrows of one man, +what were they to the breaking hearts of millions? He thought of the +children, and he shuddered.</p> + +<p>"It isn't so much to tell," he said. "I have been to a dozen or so of the +largest towns in the North, and have taken the manufacturers one by one. +I have taken their wage sheets and compared them with past years. The +result was always the same. Less money distributed amongst more people. +Afterwards we went amongst the people themselves—to see how they lived. +It was like a chapter from the inferno—an epic of loathsome tragedy. I +have seen the children, Berenice, and God help the next generation."</p> + +<p>"You must not forget, Lawrence," she said, "that character is an +essential factor in poverty. Poverty there must always be, because of +the idle and shiftless."</p> + +<p>"Individual poverty, yes," he answered. "Not wholesale poverty, not +streets of it, towns of it. I don't talk about starving people, although +I saw them too. Our vicious charitable system may keep their cry from our +ears, but my sympathies go out to the man who ought to be earning two +pounds a week, and who is earning fifteen shillings; the man who used to +have his bit of garden, and smoke, and Sunday clothes, and a day or so's +holiday now and then. He was a contented, decent, God-fearing citizen, +the backbone of the whole nation, and he has been blotted away from the +face of the earth. They work now passively, like dumb brutes, to resist +starvation, and human character isn't strong enough for such a strain. +The public houses thrive, and the pawnshops are full. But the children +haven't enough to eat. They are growing up lank, white, prematurely aged, +the spectres to dance us statesmen down into hell."</p> + +<p>"You are overwrought, dear," she said, gently. "You have been in the +hands of a man whose object it was to show you only one side of all +this."</p> + +<p>"I have sought for the truth," Mannering answered, "and I have seen it. I +have learned more in three weeks than all the Commissions and statistics +and Board-of-Trade figures have taught me in five years."</p> + +<p>"And yet," she said, thoughtfully, "you hesitated about that last Navy +vote. Don't you see that the imperialism which you are a little disposed +to shrug your shoulders at is the most logical and complete cure for all +this? We must extend and maintain our colonies, and people them with our +surplus population."</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"That is not a policy which would ever appeal to me," he answered. "It +is like an external operation to remove a malady which is of internal +origin. Either our social laws or our political systems are at fault +when our trade leaves us, and our labouring classes are unable to earn +a fair wage. That is the position we are in to-day."</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet, and walked restlessly up and down the room. +Mannering had the look of a crushed man. She watched him critically. +Writers in magazines and reviews had often made a study of his character. +She remembered a brilliant contributor to a recent review, who had dwelt +upon a certain lack of cohesion in his constitution, an inability to +relegate sentiment to its proper place in dealing with the great workaday +problems of the world. Conscientious, but never to be trusted, was the +last anomalous but luminous criticism. Was this frame of mind of his a +sign of it, she wondered? His place in politics was fixed and sure. What +right had he, as a man of principle, with a great following, to run even +the risk of being led away by false prophets? A certain hardness stole +into her face as she watched him. She tried to steel herself against the +sight of his suffering, and though she was not wholly successful, there +was a distinct change in her tone and attitude towards him as she resumed +her seat.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she asked, "what this means from a practical point of view? +How will it effect your plans?"</p> + +<p>"I must give up my public meetings," he answered, slowly. "I have written +to Manningham to tell him that he must get some one else to lead the +campaign."</p> + +<p>Berenice was very pale. So many of these wonderful dreams of hers seemed +vanishing into thin air.</p> + +<p>"This is a terrible blow," she said. "It is the worst thing which +has happened to us for years. Are you going over to the other side, +Lawrence?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I can't do that altogether," he said. "The position is simply this: I am +still, so far as my judgment and research go, opposed to tariff reform. +On the other hand, I dare not take any leading part in fighting any +scheme which has the barest chance of bringing better times to the +working classes. I simply stand apart for the moment on this question."</p> + +<p>She laughed a little bitterly.</p> + +<p>"There is no other question," she said. "You will never be allowed to +remain neutral. You appear to me to be in a very singular position. You +are divided between sentiment and conviction, and you prefer to yield to +the former. Lawrence, do not be hasty! Think of all that depends upon +your judgment in this matter. From the very first you have been the +bitterest and most formidable opponent of this absurd scheme. If you turn +round you will unsettle public opinion throughout the country. Remember, +the power of the statesman is almost a sacred charge."</p> + +<p>"I am remembering," he murmured, "those children. I am bound to think +this matter out, Berenice. I am going to meet Graham and Mellors next +week. I shall not rest until I have made some effort to put my hand upon +the weak spot. Somewhere there is a rotten place. I want to reach it."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to give up your seat?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Not unless I am asked to," he answered. "I may need to work from there."</p> + +<p>She sighed.</p> + +<p>"I suppose your mind is quite made up," she said.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely," he answered.</p> + +<p>Her maid came in just then, and Mannering offered to withdraw. She made +no effort to detain him, and he went at once in search of his host and +hostess. He found every one assembled in the hall below. Lord Redford, +Borrowdean, and the chief whip of his party were talking together in a +corner, and from their significant look at his approach, he felt sure +that he himself had been the subject of their conversation. The situation +was more than a little awkward. Lord Redford stepped forward and welcomed +him cordially.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you've been knocking yourself up, Mannering," he said. "I've +just been proposing to Culthorpe here that we bar politics completely for +twenty-four hours. We'll leave the dinner table with the ladies, and you +and I will play golf to-morrow. I've had Taylor down here, and I can +assure you that my links are worth playing over now. Then on Thursday +we'll have a conference."</p> + +<p>"I was scarcely sure," Mannering said, with a slight smile, "whether +I should be expected to stay until then. Sir Leslie has told you of my +telegrams?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," Lord Redford said, quickly. "We've postponed the meetings for +the present. We'll talk that all out later on. You've had some tea, I +hope? No? Well, Eleanor, you are a nice hostess," he added, turning to +his wife. "Give Mr. Mannering some tea at once, and feed him up with hot +cakes. Come into the billiard-room afterwards, Mannering, will you? I've +got a new table in the winter-garden, and we're going to have a pool +before dinner."</p> + +<p>Berenice came in and laid her hand upon her host's arm.</p> + +<p>"You need not worry about Mr. Mannering," she declared. "He is going to +have tea with me at that little table, and I am going to take him for a +walk in the park afterwards."</p> + +<p>"So long as you feed him well," Lord Redford declared, with a little +laugh, "and turn up in good time for dinner, you may do what you like. If +you take my advice, Berenice, you will join our league. We have pledged +ourselves not to utter a word of shop for twenty-four hours."</p> + +<p>"I submit willingly," Berenice answered. "Mr. Mannering and I will find +something else to talk about."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Xa" id="CHAPTER_Xa"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE END OF A DREAM</h3> + + +<p>"You can guess why I brought you here, perhaps," Berenice said, gently, +as she motioned him to sit down by her side. "This place, more than any +other I know, certainly more than any other at Bayleigh, seems to me to +be completely restful. There are the trees, you see, and the water, and +the swans, that are certainly the laziest creatures I know. You look to +me as though you needed rest, Lawrence."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I do," he answered, slowly. "I am not sure, though, whether +I deserve it."</p> + +<p>"You are rather a self-distrustful mortal," she remarked, leaning back in +her corner and looking at him from under her parasol. "You have worked +hard all the session, and now you have finished up by three weeks of, +I should think, herculean labour. If you do not deserve rest who does?"</p> + +<p>"The rest which I deserve," Mannering answered, bitterly, "is the rest of +those whose bones are bleaching amongst the caves and corals of the sea +there! That is Matapan Point, isn't it, where the hidden rocks are?"</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"Really, you are developing into a very gloomy person," she said. +"Lawrence, don't let us fence with one another any longer. What you may +decide to do politically may be ruinous to your career, to your chance of +usefulness in the world, and to my hopes. But I want you to understand +this. It can make no difference to me. I have had dreams perhaps of a +great future, of being the wife of a Prime Minister who would lead his +country into a new era of prosperity, who would put the last rivets into +the bonds of a great imperial empire. But one never realizes all one's +hopes, Lawrence. I love politics. I love being behind the scenes, and +helping to move the pawns across the board. But I am a woman, too, +Lawrence, and I love you. Put everything connected with your public life +on one side. Let me ask you this. You are changed. Has anything come +between us as man and woman?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, "something has come between us."</p> + +<p>She sat quite still for several minutes. She prayed that he too might +keep silence, and he seemed to know her thoughts. Over the little sheet +of ornamental water, down the glade of beech and elm trees narrowing +towards the cliffs, her eyes travelled seawards. It was to her a terrible +moment. Mannering had represented so much to her, and her standard was a +high one. If there was a man living whom she would have reckoned above +the weaknesses of the herd, it was he. In those days at Blakely she had +almost idealized him. The simple purity of his life there, his delicate +and carefully chosen pleasures, combined with his almost passionate love +of the open places of the earth, had led her to regard him as something +different from any other man whom she had ever known. All Borrowdean's +hints and open statements had gone for very little. She had listened and +retained her trust. And now she had a horrible fear. Something had gone +out of the man, something which went for strength, something without +which he seemed to lack that splendid militant vitality which had always +seemed to her so admirable. Perhaps he was going to make a confession, +one of those crude, clumsy confessions of a stained life, which have +drawn the colour and the joy from so many beautiful dreams. She shivered +a little, but she inclined her head to listen.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "what is it?"</p> + +<p>"I have asked another woman to marry me only a few hours ago," he said, +quietly.</p> + +<p>Berenice was a proud woman, and for the moment she felt her love for this +man a dried-up and shrivelled thing. She was white to the lips, but she +commanded her voice, and her eyes met his coldly.</p> + +<p>"May I inquire into the circumstances—of this—somewhat remarkable +proceeding?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"There is a woman," he said, "whose life I helped to wreck—not in the +orthodox way," he added, with a note of scorn in his tone, "but none the +less effectually. The one recompense I never thought of offering her was +marriage. I have seen that, despite all my efforts to aid her, her life +has been a failure. Her friends have been the wrong sort of friends, her +life the wrong sort of life. What it was that was dragging her downwards +I never guessed, for she, too, in her way, was a proud woman. To-day she +sent for me. What passed between us is her secret as much as mine. I can +only tell you that before I left I had asked her to marry me."</p> + +<p>"I think," she said, calmly, "that you need tell me no more."</p> + +<p>"There is very little more that I can tell you," he answered. "I +have no affection for her, and she has refused to marry me. But she +remains—between us—irrevocably!"</p> + +<p>"You are lucidity itself," she replied. "Will you forgive me if I leave +you? I am scarcely used to this sort of situation, and I should like to +be alone."</p> + +<p>"Go by all means, Berenice," he answered. "You and I are better apart. +But there is one thing which I must say to you, and you must hear. What +has passed between you and me is the epitome of the love-making of my +life. You are the only woman whom I have desired to make my wife. You are +the only woman whom I have loved, and shall love until I die. I can make +you no reparation, none is possible! Yet these things are my +justification."</p> + +<p>Berenice had turned away. The passionate ring of truth in his tone +arrested her footsteps. She paused. Her heart was beating very fast, her +coldness was all assumed. It was so much happiness to throw away, if +indeed there was a chance. She turned and faced him, nervous, gaunt, +hollow-eyed, the wreck of his former self. Pity triumphed in spite of +herself. What was this leaven of weakness in the man, she wondered, which +had so suddenly broken him down? He had only to hold on his way and he +would be Prime Minister in a year. And at the moment of trial he had +crumpled up like a piece of false metal. A wave of false sentiment, a +maniacal hyper-conscientiousness, had been sufficient to sap the very +strength from his bones. And then—there was this other woman. Was she to +let him go without an effort? He might recover his sanity. It was perhaps +a mere nervous breakdown, which had made him the prey of strange fancies. +She spoke to him differently. She spoke once more as the woman who loved +him.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she said, "you are telling me too much, and not enough. If +you want to send me away I must go. But tell me this first. What claim +has this woman upon you?"</p> + +<p>"It is not my secret," he groaned. "I cannot tell you."</p> + +<p>"Leslie Borrowdean knows it," she said. "I could have heard it, but I +refused to listen. Remember, whatever you may owe to other people you owe +me something, too."</p> + +<p>"It is true," he answered. "Well, listen. I killed her husband!"</p> + +<p>"You! You—killed her husband!" she repeated vaguely.</p> + +<p>"Yes! She shielded me. There was an inquest, and they found that he had +heart disease. No one knew that I had even seen him that day, no one save +she and a servant, who is dead. But the truth lives. He had reason to be +angry with me—over a money affair. He came home furious, and found me +alone with his wife. He called me—well, it was a lie—and he struck me. +I threw him on one side—and he fell. When we picked him up he was dead."</p> + +<p>"It was terrible!" she said, "but you should have braved it out. They +could have done very little to you."</p> + +<p>"I know it," he answered. "But I was young, and my career was just +beginning. The thing stunned me. She insisted upon secrecy. It would +reflect upon her, she thought, if the truth came out, so I acquiesced, +I left the house unseen. All these days I have had to carry the burden of +this thing with me. To-day—seemed to be the climax. For the first time I +understood."</p> + +<p>"She can never marry you," Berenice said. "It would be horrible."</p> + +<p>"She refused to marry me to-day," he answered, "but she laid her life +bare, and I cannot marry any one else."</p> + +<p>Berenice was trembling. She was no longer ashamed to show her agitation.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry for you, Lawrence," she said. "I am very sorry for +myself. Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>She left him, and Mannering sank back upon the seat.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIa" id="CHAPTER_XIa"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>BORROWDEAN SHOWS HIS "HAND"</h3> + + +<p>"To be plain with you," Borrowdean remarked, "Mannering's defection would +be irremediable. He alone unites Redford, myself, and—well, to put it +crudely, let us say the Imperialistic Liberal Party with Manningham and +the old-fashioned Whigs who prefer the ruts. There is no other leader +possible. Redford and I talked till daylight this morning. Now, can +nothing be done with Mannering?"</p> + +<p>"To be plain with you, too, then, Sir Leslie," Berenice answered, "I do +not think that anything can be done with him. In his present frame of +mind I should say that he is better left alone. He has worked himself up +into a thoroughly sentimental and nervous state. For the moment he has +lost his sense of balance."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean nodded.</p> + +<p>"Desperate necessity," he said, "sometimes justifies desperate measures. +We need Mannering, the country and our cause need him. If argument will +not prevail there is one last alternative left to us. It may not be such +an alternative as we should choose, but beggars must not be choosers. I +think that you will know what I mean."</p> + +<p>"I have no idea," Berenice answered.</p> + +<p>"You are aware," he continued, "that there is in Mannering's past history +an episode, the publication of which would entail somewhat serious +consequences to him."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>It was a most eloquent monosyllable, but Borrowdean had gone too far to +retreat.</p> + +<p>"I propose that we make use of it," he said. "Mannering's attitude is +rankly foolish, or I would not suggest such a thing. But I hold that we +are entitled, under the circumstances, to make use of any means whatever +to bring him to his senses."</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled. They were standing together upon a small hillock in the +park, watching the golf.</p> + +<p>"Charlatanism in politics does not appeal to me," she said, drily. "Any +party that adopted such means would completely alienate my sympathies. +No, my dear Sir Leslie, don't stoop to such low-down means. Mannering is +honest, but infatuated. Win him back by fair means, if you can, but don't +attempt anything of the sort you are suggesting. I, too, know his +history, from his own lips. Any one who tried to use it against him, +would forfeit my friendship!"</p> + +<p>"Success then would be bought too dearly," Borrowdean answered, with +a gallantry which it cost him a good deal to assume. "May I pass on, +Duchess, in connexion with this matter, to ask you a somewhat more +personal question?"</p> + +<p>"I think," Berenice said, calmly, "that I can spare you the necessity. +You were going to speak, I believe, of the engagement between Lawrence +Mannering and myself."</p> + +<p>"I was," Borrowdean admitted.</p> + +<p>"It does not exist any longer," Berenice said, "I should be glad if you +would inform any one who has heard the rumour that it is without any +foundation."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean looked thoughtfully at the woman by his side.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to hear it," he declared. "I am glad for many reasons, +and I am glad personally."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I cannot imagine how it should affect you personally."</p> + +<p>"I perhaps said more than I meant to," he replied, calmly. "I am a poor, +struggling politician myself, whose capital consists of brains and a +capacity for work, and whose hopes are coloured with perhaps too daring +ambitions. Amongst them—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mannering has holed out from off the green," she interrupted. +"Positively immoral, I call it."</p> + +<p>"Amongst them," Borrowdean continued, calmly, "is one which some day or +other I must tell you, for indeed you are concerned in it."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you, Sir Leslie," she said, looking at him steadily, +"that I am not at all a sympathetic person. My strong advice to you would +be—not to tell me. I do not think that you would gain anything by it."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean met his fate with a bow and a shrug of the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It only remains," he said, "for me to beg you to pardon what might seem +like presumption. Shall we meet them on the last green?"</p> + +<p>Mannering would have avoided Berenice, but she gave him no option. She +laid her hand upon his arm, and volunteered to show him a new way home.</p> + +<p>"You must be on your guard, Lawrence," she said. "Lord Redford is very +fond of concealing his plans to the last moment, but he is a very clever +man. And Sir Leslie Borrowdean would give his little finger to catch you +tripping. All this avoidance of politics is part of a scheme. They will +spring something upon you quite suddenly. Don't give any hasty pledges."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your warning," he said. "I will be careful."</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she said, "as a friend, what are your plans? Forget that I am +interested in politics altogether. I simply want to know how you are +spending your time for the next few months."</p> + +<p>"It depends upon them," he answered, looking downwards into the valley, +where Lord Redford and Borrowdean were walking side by side. "If they ask +me to resign my seat I shall go North again, and it is just possible that +I might come back into the House as a labour member. On the other hand, +if they are content with such support as I can give them, and to have me +on the fence at present so far as the tariff question is concerned, why, +I shall go back and do the best I can for them."</p> + +<p>"You are not quite won over to the other side yet, then," she remarked, +smiling.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," he answered. "If ever there was an honest doubter, I am one. +If I had never left my study, England could not have contained a more +rabid opponent of any change in our fiscal policy than I. I am like a +small boy who is absolutely sure that he has worked out his sum +correctly, but finds the answer is not the one which his examiner +expects. There is something wrong somewhere. I want, if I can, to +discover it. I only want the truth! I don't see why it should be so hard +to find, why figures and common sense should clash entirely and horribly +with existing facts."</p> + +<p>"You wore dun-coloured spectacles when you took your walks abroad," she +said, smiling. "No one else seems to have discovered so distressing a +state of affairs as you have spoken of."</p> + +<p>"Because they never looked beneath the surface," he answered. "I myself +might have failed to understand if I had not been shown. Remember that +our workingman of the better class does not go marching through the +streets with an unemployed banner and a tin cup when he is in want. He +takes his half wages and closes the door upon his sufferings. God help +him!"</p> + +<p>"Adieu, politics," she declared, with a shrug of the shoulders. "Isn't +that Clara playing croquet with Major Bristow? I wish I didn't dislike +that man so much. I hate to see the child with him."</p> + +<p>Mannering sighed.</p> + +<p>"Poor Clara!" he said. "I am afraid I have left her a good deal to +herself lately."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you have," she agreed, a little gravely. "May I give you +a word of advice?"</p> + +<p>"You know that I should be grateful for it," he declared.</p> + +<p>"Be sure that she never goes to the Bristows again, and ask her whether +she has any other card debts. It may be my fancy, but I don't like the +way that man hangs about her, and looks at her. I am sure that she does +not like him, and yet she never seems to have the courage to snub him."</p> + +<p>"I am very much obliged to you," he said. "I will speak to her to-day."</p> + +<p>"I don't know where I am going, or what I shall do for the autumn," she +continued, with a little sigh, "but if you like to trust Clara with me I +will look after her. I think that she needs a woman. Yes, I thought so. +Redford and Sir Leslie are waiting for you. Go and have it out with them, +my friend."</p> + +<p>"You are too kind to me," he said; "kinder than I deserve!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," she answered. "I am afraid that my kindness is only +another form of selfishness. I am rather a lonely person, you know. Lord +Redford is beckoning to you. I am going to break up that croquet party."</p> + +<p>Mannering joined the other two men. Berenice strolled on to the lawn. +Major Bristow eyed her coming with some disfavour. He was one of the men +whom she always ignored. Clara, on the other hand, seemed proportionately +relieved.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come to my room as soon as you possibly can, child," +Berenice said. "Shall I wait while you finish your game?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will come at once," Clara exclaimed, laying down her mallet. +"Major Bristow will not mind, I am sure."</p> + +<p>Major Bristow looked as though he did mind very much, but lacked the +nerve to say so. Berenice calmly took Clara by the arm and led her away.</p> + +<p>"You are not engaged to Major Bristow by any chance, are you?" she asked, +calmly.</p> + +<p>"Engaged to Major Bristow? Heavens, no!" Clara answered. "I don't think +he is in the least a marrying man."</p> + +<p>"So much the better for our sex," Berenice answered. "I wouldn't spend so +much time with him, my dear, if I were you. I have known people with +nicer reputations."</p> + +<p>Clara turned a shade paler.</p> + +<p>"I can never get away from him," she said. "He follows me—everywhere, +and—"</p> + +<p>"You do not by any chance, I suppose, owe him money?" Berenice asked. +"They tell me that he has a somewhat objectionable habit of winning money +from girls, more than they can afford to pay, and then suggesting that it +stand over for a time."</p> + +<p>Clara turned towards her with terrified eyes.</p> + +<p>"I—I do owe Major Bristow a little still," she admitted. "I seem to have +been so unlucky. He told me that any time would do, that I should win it +back again, and I had no idea what stakes we were playing. I don't touch +a card now at all, but this was at Ellingham House. They insisted on my +making a fourth at bridge."</p> + +<p>Berenice tightened her grasp upon the girl's arm.</p> + +<p>"Don't say anything about this to your uncle just now," she insisted. "I +am going to take you up to my room and write you a cheque for the amount, +whatever it may be. Afterwards I will have a talk with Major Bristow. +Nonsense, child, don't cry! The money is nothing to me, and I always +promised your uncle that I would look after you a little."</p> + +<p>"I have been such a fool!" the girl sobbed.</p> + +<p>Berenice for a moment was also sad. Her lips quivered, her eyes were +wistful.</p> + +<p>"We all think that sometimes, child," she said, quietly. "We all have our +foolish moments and our hours of repentance, even the wisest of us!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIIa" id="CHAPTER_XIIa"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>SIR LESLIE BORROWDEAN INCURS A HEAVY DEBT</h3> + + +<p>"I suppose," Lord Redford remarked, thoughtfully, "politics represents a +different thing to all of us, according to our temperament. To me, I must +confess, it is a plain, practical business, the business of law-making. +To you, Mannering, I fancy that it appeals a little differently. Now, let +us understand one another. Are you prepared to undertake this campaign +which we planned out a few months ago?"</p> + +<p>"If I did undertake it," Mannering said, "it would be to leave unsaid the +things which you would naturally expect from me, and to say things of +which you could not possibly approve. I am very sorry. You can command my +resignation at any moment, if you will. But my views, though in the main +they have not changed, are very much modified."</p> + +<p>Lord Redford nodded.</p> + +<p>"That," he said, "is our misfortune, but it certainly is not your +fault. As for your resignation, if you crossed the floor of the House +to-morrow we should not require it of you. You are responsible to your +constituents only. We dragged you back into public life—you see I admit +it freely—and we are willing to take our risk. Whether you are with us +or against us, we recognize you as one of those whose place is amongst +the rulers of the people."</p> + +<p>"You are very generous, Lord Redford," Mannering answered.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. It is no use being peevish. You are a great disappointment +to us, but we have not given up hope. If you are not altogether with us +to-day, there is to-morrow. I tell you frankly, Mannering, that I look +upon you as a man temporarily led astray by a wave of sentimentality. So +long as the world lasts there will be rich men and poor, but you must +always remember in considering this that it is character as well as +circumstances which is at the root of the acquisition of wealth. +Generations have gone to the formation of our social fabric. It is the +slow evolution of the human laws of necessity. The socialist and the +sentimentalist and the philanthropist, dropping gold through his fingers, +have each had their fling at it, but their cry is like the cry from the +wilderness—a long, lone thing! And then to come to the real point, +Mannering. Grant for a moment all that you have told Borrowdean and +myself about the condition of the labour classes in the great towns and +the universal depression of trade. How can you possibly imagine that the +imposition of tariff duties is the sovereign, or even a possible, remedy? +Why, you yourself have been one of the most brilliant pamphleteers +against anything of the sort. You have been called the Cobden of the day. +You cannot throw principles away like an old garment."</p> + +<p>"Let us leave for one moment," Mannering answered, "the personal side of +the matter. I have seen in the majority of our large cities terrible and +convincing proof of the decline of our manufacturing industries. I have +seen the outcome of this in hundreds of ruined homes, in a whole +generation coming into the world half starved, half clothed—God help +those children. I have always maintained that the labouring classes +should be the happiest race of people in this country. I find them +without leisure or recreation, fighting fate with both hands for food. +Redford, the whole world has never shown us a greater tragedy than the +one which we others deliberately and persistently close our eyes to—I +mean the struggle for life which is being waged in every one of our great +cities."</p> + +<p>"We have statistics," Borrowdean began.</p> + +<p>"Damn statistics!" Mannering interrupted. "I have juggled with figures +myself in the old days, and I know how easy it is. So do you, and so does +Redford. This is what I want to put to you. The tragedy is there. Perhaps +those who have faced it and come back again to tell of their experiences +have been a little hysterical—the horror of it has carried them away. +They may not have adopted the most effectual means of making the world +understand, but it is there. I have seen it. A thousandth part of this +misery in a country with which we had nothing to do, and no business to +interfere, and we should be having mass meetings at Exeter Hall, and +making general asses of ourselves all over the country, shrieking for +intervention, wasting a whole dictionary of rhetoric, and probably +getting well snubbed for our pains. And because the murders are by slow +poison instead of with steel, because they are in our own cities and +amongst our own people, we accept them with a sort of placid +satisfaction. You, Lord Redford, speak of character and enunciate social +laws, and Borrowdean will argue that after all the trade of the country +is not so bad as it might be, and will make an epigram on the importation +of sentimentality into politics. In plain words, Lord Redford, we, as a +party, are asleep to what is going on. One statesman has recognized it, +and proposed a startling and drastic remedy. We attack the remedy tooth +and nail, but we place forward no counter proposition. It is as though a +dying man were attended by two doctors, one of whom has prepared a remedy +which the other declines to administer without suggesting one of his own. +It is not a logical position. The medicine may not cure, but let the man +have his chance of life."</p> + +<p>"Your simile," Lord Redford said, "assumes that the man is dying."</p> + +<p>"I have seen the mark of death upon his face," Mannering answered. "The +men who are traitors to their country to-day are those who, healthy +enough themselves, talk causeless and shallow optimism which is fed alone +by their own prosperity. The doctrine of Christ is the care of others. +If you do not believe, the sick-room is open also to you; go there +unprejudiced, and with an open mind, and you will come away as I have +come away."</p> + +<p>"Must we take it, then, Mannering," Lord Redford said, gravely, "that you +are prepared to support the administering of the medicine you spoke of?"</p> + +<p>Mannering was silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>"At least," he said, "I am not going to be amongst those who cry out +against it and offer nothing themselves. I am going to analyze that +medicine, and if I see a chance of life in it I shall say, let us run +a little risk, rather than stand by inactive, to look upon the face of +death. In other words, I become for the moment a passive figure in +politics so far as this question is concerned."</p> + +<p>Lord Redford held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Let it go at that, Mannering," he said. "I believe that you will come +back to us. We shall be always glad of your support, but of course you +will understand that the position from to-day is changed. If you had +carried the standard, as we had hoped, the reward also was to have been +yours. We must elect one of ourselves to take your place. To put it +plainly, your defection now releases us from all pledges."</p> + +<p>"I understand," Mannering answered. "It was scarcely ambition which +brought me back into politics, and I must work for the cause in which I +believe. If I am forced to take any definite action, I shall, of course, +resign my seat."</p> + +<p>The door closed behind him. Borrowdean struck a match, and Lord Redford +looked thoughtfully out of the window across the park.</p> + +<p>"I was always afraid of this," Borrowdean said, gloomily. "There is a +leaven of madness in the man."</p> + +<p>Lord Redford shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Genius or madness," he remarked. "We may yet see him a modern Rienzi +carried into power on the shoulders of the people. Such a man might +become anything. As a matter of fact, I think that he will go back into +his study. He has the brain to fashion wonderful thoughts, and the lips +to fire them into life. But I doubt his adaptability. I cannot imagine +him ever becoming a real and effective force."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean, who was bitterly disappointed, smoked furiously.</p> + +<p>"We shall see," he said. "If Mannering is not for us, I think that I can +at least promise that he does no harm on the other side."</p> + +<p>Lord Redford turned away from the window. He eyed Borrowdean curiously.</p> + +<p>"It was you," he remarked, "who brought Mannering back into public life. +You had a certain reward for it, and you would have had a much greater +one if things had gone our way. But I want you to remember this. +Mannering is best left alone—now, for the present. You understand me?"</p> + +<p>Borrowdean shrugged his shoulders. There was a good deal too much +sentiment in politics.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mannering and Berenice came together for a few moments on the terrace +after dinner. He was not so completely engrossed in his own affairs as +to fail to notice her lack of colour and a certain weariness of manner, +which had kept her more silent than usual during the whole evening.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she said.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing definite," he answered. "You see, the question of +tariff reform is not before the House at present, and Redford does not +require me to resign my seat. But of course it will come to that sooner +or later."</p> + +<p>She leaned over the grey balustrade. With her it was a moment of +weakness. She was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was no longer +a young woman. The time when she might hope to find in life the actual +flavour and joy of passionate living was nearing the end. And a little +while ago they had seemed so near! The pity of it stirred up a certain +sense of rebellion in her heart. She was still a beautiful woman. She +knew very well the arts by which men are enslaved. Why should she not try +them upon him—this man who loved her, who seemed willing to sacrifice +both their lives to a piece of senseless quixoticism? Her fingers touched +his, and held them softly. Thrilled through all his senses, he turned +towards her wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Are we wise, Lawrence," she whispered, "if indeed you love me? Life is +so short, and I am not a young woman any more. I have been lonely so +long. I want a little happiness before I go."</p> + +<p>"Don't!" he cried, hoarsely. "You know—what comes between us."</p> + +<p>She was a little indignant, but still tender.</p> + +<p>"This woman does not want you, Lawrence," she cried. "I do! Oh, +Lawrence!"</p> + +<p>He faltered. She laid her fingers upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"Come down the steps," she murmured, "and I will show you Lady Redford's +rose-garden."</p> + +<p>Her touch was compelling. He could not have resisted it. And about his +heart lay the joy of her near presence. Side by side they moved along the +terrace—it seemed to him that they passed towards their destiny. The +gentle rustling of her clothes, their slight, mysterious perfume, was +like music to him. A sudden wave of passion carried him away. The +primitive virility of the man, awake at last, demanded its birthright.</p> + +<p>And then upon the lower step they met Borrowdean, and he placed himself +squarely in their way.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to interrupt you," he said, gravely, "but Lord Redford has +sent me out to look for you and to send you at once into the library. +Something rather serious has happened."</p> + +<p>Mannering came down to earth.</p> + +<p>"The evening papers have come," Borrowdean said. "The <i>Pall Mall</i> has the +whole story. You were seen at the working-men's club in Glasgow!"</p> + +<p>Mannering turned towards the house. His nerves were all tingling with +excitement, but the thread had suddenly been snapped. He was no longer in +danger of yielding to that flood of delicious sensations. His voice had +been almost steady as he had begged Berenice to excuse him. Berenice +stood quite still. Her hand was pressed to her side, her dark eyes were +lit with passion. She leaned forward towards Borrowdean, and seemed about +to strike him.</p> + +<p>"You will find yourself—repaid for this, Sir Leslie," she murmured.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill6_th.jpg"><img src="images/ill6_th.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + + +<p>Then she turned abruptly away. For an hour or more she walked alone +amongst the trellised walks of Lady Redford's rose-garden. But Mannering +did not return.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIIIa" id="CHAPTER_XIIIa"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE WOMAN AND—THE OTHER WOMAN</h3> + + +<p>"You see, Mannering," Lord Redford said, tapping the outspread evening +paper with his forefinger, "the situation now presents a different +aspect. I have no wish to force your hand—a few hours ago I think I +proved this. But if you are to remain even nominally with us some sort +of pronouncement must come from you in reply to these statements."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Mannering said, "that is quite reasonable."</p> + +<p>"The postponement of your campaign has been hinted at before," Lord +Redford continued, "but we have never used the word abandonment. Now, to +speak bluntly, the whole fat is in the fire. Your place on the fence is +no longer possible. You must make your own declaration, and it must be +for one of three things. You must remain with us, abandon public life for +a time, or go over to the other side. And you must make promptly an +announcement of your intentions."</p> + +<p>"I have no alternative in the matter," Mannering said. "In fact, I think +that this has happened opportunely. My presence with you was sure to +prove something of an embarrassment to all of us. I shall apply for the +Chiltern Hundreds to-morrow, and I shall not seek to re-enter the present +Parliament. The few months' respite will be useful to me. I can only +express to you, Lord Redford, my sincere gratitude for all your +consideration, and my regret for this disarrangement of your plans."</p> + +<p>Lord Redford sighed. Why were men born, he wondered, with such a +prodigious capacity for playing the fool?</p> + +<p>"My chief regret, Mannering," he said, "is for you. The Fates so +controlled circumstances that you seemed certain to achieve as a young +man what is the crowning triumph of us veterans in the political world. I +respect the honest scruples of every man, but it seems to me that you are +throwing away an unparalleled opportunity in a fit of what a practical +man like myself can only call sentimentality. I have no more to say. +Forgive me if I have said too much. For the rest, give us the pleasure of +your company here for as long as you find it convenient. We will abjure +politics, and you shall give me my revenge at golf."</p> + +<p>Mannering shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I am very much obliged to you," he said, "but there is only one course +open to me. I must go back and make my plans. If I could have a carriage +for the nine-forty!"</p> + +<p>Lord Redford made no effort to induce him to change his mind, though he +remained courteous to the last.</p> + +<p>"I was really glad to have him go," he told Borrowdean afterwards. "His +very presence—the thought that there could be such colossal fools in the +world—irritated me beyond measure. You can write his epitaph, Leslie, if +your humorous vein is working, for the man is politically dead."</p> + +<p>"One never knows," Berenice said, quietly. "There must be something great +about a man capable of such prodigious self-sacrifice. For at heart +Lawrence Mannering is an ambitious man."</p> + +<p>Lord Redford shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he said, "but I am very sure of this. There is nothing so +great about the man as his folly."</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled.</p> + +<p>"We shall see," she said. "Personally, I believe that Sir Leslie would +find his epitaph a little previous. I saw a great deal of Lawrence +Mannering in the country, and I think that I understand him as well as +either of you. I believe that his day will come."</p> + +<p>"Well, all I can say is," Lord Redford pronounced, "that I very much +wish you had left him down at his country home. Between you you have +created a very serious situation. I must go up to town to-morrow and see +Manningham. In the meantime, Leslie, I shall leave those reports severely +alone. We must ignore Mannering altogether."</p> + +<p>Berenice turned away with a smile at her lips. She had a very little +opinion of Lord Redford and his following. Already she saw the man whose +career they counted finished, at the head of a new and greater party. +There were plenty of clever men of the coming generation, plenty of room +for compromises, for the formation of a great national party out of the +scattered units of a disunited opposition. She believed Mannering strong +enough to do this. She saw in it greater possibilities than might have +been forthcoming even if he had been chosen to lead the somewhat ragged +party represented by Lord Redford and his followers. For the rest, she +had been very near the success she so desired. Only an accident had +robbed her of victory. If once they had reached the rose-garden she knew +that she would have triumphed.</p> + +<p>As her maid took off her jewellery that night she smiled at herself in +the glass. She was thinking of that moment on the terrace. The glow had +not wholly faded from her face—she saw herself with her long, slender +neck and smooth, unwrinkled complexion, still beautiful, still a woman to +be loved. Her maid ventured to whisper a word of respectful compliment. +Truly Madame La Duchesse was growing younger!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>What strange whim, or evil fate, had turned his feet in that direction? +Mannering often tried to trace backwards the workings of his mind that +night, but he never wholly succeeded. He reached London about eleven, and +sent his man home with his luggage, intending merely to call in at the +club for letters. But afterwards he remembered only that he had strolled +aimlessly along homewards, thinking deeply, and not particularly careful +as to his direction. Even then he would have passed the house in Sloane +Gardens without looking up, but for the civil "Good-night, sir," of a +coachman sitting on the box of a small brougham drawn up against the +kerb. He raised his head to return the salute, and realized at once where +he was. Almost at the same moment the front door opened, and behind a +glow of light in the hall he saw a familiar figure in the act of passing +out to her carriage. The street was well lit, and he was almost opposite +a lamp-post. She recognized him at once.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she exclaimed, incredulously. "You—were you coming in?"</p> + +<p>She was wrapped from head to foot in a long white opera cloak, but the +jewels in her hair and at her throat glistened in the flashing light. She +moved slowly forward to his side. Her maid, who had been coming out to +open the carriage door, lingered behind.</p> + +<p>"I—upon my word, I scarcely know how I came here," he answered, a little +bewildered. "I was walking home—it is scarcely out of my way—and +thinking. You are going out?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. Looking at her now more closely he saw the shadows under +her eyes, only imperfectly concealed. The little gesture with which she +answered him savoured of weariness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was going out. I have sat alone with my thoughts all day, and I +don't want to end my life in a lunatic asylum. I want a little change, +that is all. If you will come in and talk to me instead, that will do as +well. Any sort of distraction, you see," she added, with a hard little +laugh, "just to keep me from—"</p> + +<p>She did not finish her sentence. He looked at her gravely, and from her +to the waiting carriage. He suddenly realized how the altered condition +of affairs must affect her.</p> + +<p>"I shall have to come and see you in a day or two," he said. "But +now—" he hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Why not now, then?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"You have an engagement," he said.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I was only going somewhere to supper. I was going to call for Eva +Fanesborough, and I suppose we should have had some bridge afterwards. +Come in instead, Lawrence. I can telephone to her."</p> + +<p>Already a presage of evil seemed to be forming itself in his mind. He +would have given anything to have thought of some valid excuse.</p> + +<p>"Your carriage—"</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" she answered. "John, I shall not want you to-night," she said to +the coachman. "Come!"</p> + +<p>She led the way, and Mannering followed. As the maid closed the door +behind them Mannering felt his breath quicken—his sense of depression +grew stronger. He seemed threatened by some new and intangible danger. He +stood on the hearthrug while she bent over the switch and turned on the +electric light in the sitting-room. Then she threw off her cloak and +looked at him curiously for a moment. Her face softened.</p> + +<p>"My dear Lawrence," she said, "has politics done this, or are you ill?"</p> + +<p>"I am quite well," he answered. "A little tired, perhaps. I have had +rather a trying day."</p> + +<p>She rang the bell, and ordered sandwiches and wine.</p> + +<p>"You look like a corpse," she said, and stood over him while he ate and +drank. And all the time that indefinable fear within him grew. She made +him smoke. Then she leaned back in an easy-chair and looked across at +him.</p> + +<p>"You had something to say to me. What was it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing good," he answered. "I have quarrelled with my party, and I have +to resign my seat in the House."</p> + +<p>"Already?"</p> + +<p>"Already! I am sorry, as of course in a few months' time I should have +been in office, and drawing a considerable salary. As it is—" he +hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I understand!" she said. "Well, it doesn't matter much. I only have +the house for six months furnished, and that's paid for in advance. John +must go, and the horses can be sold."</p> + +<p>He looked at her in amazement. Only a few months ago she had talked very +differently.</p> + +<p>"I—I am not sure whether all that will be necessary," he said. "I can +find a tenant for Blakely, and I daresay I can manage another hundred a +year or so. Only, of course, the large increase we had thought of will +not be possible now."</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose not," she answered, idly.</p> + +<p>He moved in his chair uncomfortably. He found her wholly +incomprehensible.</p> + +<p>"What a beast I must have seemed to you always," she exclaimed, suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked, pointlessly.</p> + +<p>"I've sponged on you all my life, and you're not a rich man, are you, +Lawrence? Then I dragged you into politics to supply me with the means to +spend more money. My claim on you was one of sentiment only, but—I've +made you pay. No wonder you hate me!"</p> + +<p>"Your claim on me, even to every penny I possess," Mannering answered, +"was a perfectly just one. I have never denied it, and I have done my +best. And as to hating you, you know quite well it is not true!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" She rose suddenly to her feet, and before he had realized her +intention she was on her knees by his side. She caught at his hand and +kept her face hidden from him.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she cried, "I was mad the other day. It was all the pent-up +bitterness of years which seemed to escape me so suddenly. I said so much +that I did not mean to—I was mad, dear. Oh, Lawrence, I am so lonely!"</p> + +<p>Then the fear in his heart became a live thing. He was dumb. He could not +have spoken had he tried.</p> + +<p>"It was your coldness all these years," she murmured. "You were different +once. You know that. At first, when the horror of what happened was +young, I thought I understood. I thought, as it wore off, that you would +be different. The horror has gone now, Lawrence. We know that it was an +accident, it might as well have been another as you. But you have not +changed. I have given up hoping. I have tried everything else, and I am a +very miserable woman. Now I am going to pray to you, Lawrence. You do not +care for me more. Pretend that you do! You cannot give me your love. Give +me the best you can. Don't despise me too utterly, Lawrence! Pity me, if +you will. Heaven knows I need it. And—you will be a little kind!"</p> + +<p>Her hands were clasped about his neck. He disengaged himself gently.</p> + +<p>"Blanche!" he cried, hoarsely, "I love another woman!"</p> + +<p>"Are you engaged to her?"</p> + +<p>"No! Not now!"</p> + +<p>"Then what does it matter? What does it matter, anyhow? It is not the +real thing I am asking you for, Lawrence—only the make-belief! Keep the +rest for her, if you must, but give me lies, false looks, hollow +caresses, anything! You see what depths I have fallen to."</p> + +<p>He held her hands tightly. A great pity for her filled his heart—pity +for her, and for himself.</p> + +<p>"Blanche," he said, "there is one way only. It is for you to decide. Will +you marry me? I will do my best to make you a good husband!"</p> + +<p>"Marry you?" she gasped. "Lawrence, I dare not!"</p> + +<p>"I cannot alter the past," he said, sadly. "It never seemed to me +possible that you could care for my—after what happened. But—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is not that," she interrupted. "There is—the other woman, and, +Lawrence, I should be afraid. I am not good enough!"</p> + +<p>"Whatever you are, Blanche," he said, gravely, "remember that it is I who +am responsible for your having been left alone to face the world. Your +follies belong to me. I am quite free to share their burden with you."</p> + +<p>"But the other woman?" she faltered.</p> + +<p>"I must love her always," he said, quietly, "but I cannot marry her."</p> + +<p>"And you would kiss me sometimes, Lawrence?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>He took her quietly into his arms and kissed her forehead.</p> + +<p>"I will do my best, Blanche," he said. "I dare not promise any more."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BOOK III</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Ib" id="CHAPTER_Ib"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>MATRIMONY AND AN AWKWARD MEETING</h3> + + +<p>"How delightfully Continental!" Blanche exclaimed, as the head-waiter +showed them to their table. "Hester, did you ever see anything more +quaint?"</p> + +<p>"It is perfect," the girl answered, leaning back in her chair, and +looking around with quiet content.</p> + +<p>Mannering took up the menu and ordered dinner. Then he lit a cigarette +and looked around.</p> + +<p>"It certainly is quaint," he said. "One dines out of doors often enough, +especially over here, but I have never seen a courtyard made such +excellent use of before. The place is really old, too."</p> + +<p>They had found their way to a small seaside resort, in the north of +France, which Mannering had heard highly praised by some casual +acquaintance. The courtyard of the small hotel was set out with round +dining tables, and the illumination was afforded by Japanese lanterns +hung from every available spot. A small band played from a wooden +balcony. Monsieur, the proprietor, walked anxiously from table to +table, all smiles and bows. Through the roofed way, which led from the +street, one caught a distant glimpse of the sea.</p> + +<p>Mannering, to the surprise of his friends, and to his own secret +amazement, had survived the crisis which had seemed at one time likely +enough to wreck his life. Politically he was no longer a great power, for +the party whose cause he had half espoused had met with a distinct +reverse, and he himself was without a seat in Parliament, but amongst the +masses his was still a name to conjure with. Socially his marriage with +Blanche Phillimore had scarcely proved the disaster which every one had +anticipated. Her old ways and manner of life lay in the background. She +had aged a little, perhaps, and grown thinner, but she had shown from the +first an almost pathetic desire to adapt her life to his, to assume an +altogether unobtrusive position, and if she could not in any way +influence his destiny, at least she did not hamper it. She had made no +demands upon him which he was not able to grant. She had lived where he +had suggested, she had never embarrassed him with too vehement an +affection. As for Mannering himself, he had found solace in work. +Defeated at the polls, he had declined a safe seat, and remained the +chosen independent candidate of a great Northern constituency. He +addressed public meetings occasionally, and he contributed to the +reviews. Without having ever finally committed himself to a definite +scheme of tariff reform, he preached everywhere the doctrine of +consideration. In a modified way he was reckoned now as one of its +possible supporters.</p> + +<p>They were almost halfway through their dinner when some commotion was +heard in the narrow street outside. Then with much tooting of horns and +the shrill shouting of directions from the bystanders, two heavily laden +touring cars turned slowly into the cobbled courtyard, and drew up within +a few feet of the semicircular line of tables. Mannering's little party +watched the arrivals with an interest shared by every one in the place. +Muffled up in cloaks and veils, they were at first unrecognized. It was +Mannering himself who first realized who they were.</p> + +<p>"Clara!" he exclaimed to the young lady who was standing almost by his +side. "Welcome to Bonestre!"</p> + +<p>She turned towards him with a little start.</p> + +<p>"Uncle!" she exclaimed. "How extraordinary! Why, how long have you been +here?"</p> + +<p>"We arrived this afternoon," he answered. "You remember Hester, don't +you? And this is Mrs. Mannering."</p> + +<p>Clara shook hands with both. She declared afterwards that she was +surprised into it, but she would certainly never have recognized in the +quiet, rather weary-looking, woman who sat at her uncle's side the +Blanche Phillimore whom she had more than once passionately declared that +she would sooner die than speak to. She murmured a few mechanical words, +and then, suddenly realizing the situation, she glanced a little +anxiously over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You know who I am with, uncle?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>But Mannering was already face to face with Berenice. She held out her +hand without hesitation. If she felt any emotion she concealed it +perfectly. Her voice was steady and cordial, if her cheeks were pale. The +dust lay thickly upon them all. Mannering, tall and grave in his plain +dinner clothes and black tie, stood almost like a statue before her, +until her extended hand invited his movement.</p> + +<p>"What an extraordinary meeting," she said, quietly. "I am very glad to +see you again, Mr. Mannering. We have had such a ride, all the way from +Havre along roads an inch thick in dust. This is your wife, is it not? +I am very glad to know you, Mrs. Mannering."</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill1_th.jpg"><img src="images/ill1_th.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + + +<p>All that might have been embarrassing in the encounter seemed dissolved +by the utterly conventional tone of her greeting. Sir Leslie Borrowdean +came up and joined them, and Lord and Lady Redford. Then the little +party, escorted by the landlord, disappeared into the hotel. Mannering +resumed his seat and continued his dinner. He leaned over and addressed +his wife. His tone was kinder than usual.</p> + +<p>"When we have had our coffee," he said, "I hope that you will feel like +a walk. The moon is coming up over the sea."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Take Hester," she said. "She loves that sort of thing. I have a +headache, and I should like to go upstairs as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>So Hester walked with Mannering out to the rocks where pools of water, +left by the tide, shone like silver in the moonlight. They talked very +little at first, but as they leaned over the rail and looked out seawards +Hester broke the silence, and spoke of the things which they both had in +their minds.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry they came," she said. "I am afraid it will upset mother, and +it is not pleasant for you, is it?"</p> + +<p>"For me it is nothing, Hester," he answered, "and I hope that your mother +will not worry about it. They all behaved very nicely, and we need not +see much of them."</p> + +<p>She passed her arm through his.</p> + +<p>"Tell me how you feel about it," she begged. "It must seem to you like a +glimpse of the life you left when—when you—married!"</p> + +<p>"Hester," he said, earnestly, "don't make any mistake about this. Don't +let your mother make any mistake. It was my political change of views +which separated me from all my former friends—that entirely. To them I +am an apostate, and a very bad sort of one. I deserted them just when +they needed me. I did it from convictions which are stronger to-day than +ever. But none the less I threw them over. I always said that they very +much exaggerated my importance as a factor in the situation, and my words +are proved. They carried the elections without any difficulty, and they +have formed a strong Government. They can afford to be magnanimous to me. +If I had stayed with them I should have been in office. As it was, I lost +even my seat."</p> + +<p>"You did what you thought was right," she said, softly. "No one can do +any more!"</p> + +<p>Mannering thought over her words as they walked homewards over the +sand-dunes. Yes, he had done that! Was he satisfied with the result? He +had become a minor power in politics. Men spoke of him as a weakling—as +one who had shrunk from the burden of great responsibility, and left the +friends who had trusted him in the lurch. And then—there was the other +thing. He had paid a great price for this woman's salvation. Had he +succeeded? She had given up all her old ways. She dressed, she lived, she +carried herself through life even with a furtive, almost a pathetic, +attempt to reach his standard. Often he caught her watching him as though +fearful lest some word or action of hers had been displeasing to him. +And yet—he wondered—was this what she had hoped for? Had he given her +what she had the right to expect? Had he indeed received value for the +price he had paid? He asked Hester a sudden question:</p> + +<p>"Hester, is your mother happy?"</p> + +<p>Hester started a little.</p> + +<p>"If she is not," she answered, gravely, "she must be a very ungrateful +woman."</p> + +<p>He left it at that, and together they retraced their steps to the hotel. +Hester slipped up to her room by a side entrance, but Mannering was +obliged to pass the table where the new arrivals were lingering over +their coffee. Clara and Lord Redford both called to him.</p> + +<p>"Come and have a smoke with us, Mannering, and tell us all about this +place," the latter said. "The Duchess and your niece are charmed with it, +and they want to stay for a few days. Are there any golf links?"</p> + +<p>"Come and sit next me, uncle," Clara cried, "and tell me how you like +being guardian to an heiress. How I have blessed that dear departed aunt +of mine every day of my life."</p> + +<p>Mannering accepted a cigarette, and sat down.</p> + +<p>"The golf links are excellent," he said. "As for your aunt, Clara, she +was a very sensible woman. Her money was so well invested that I have +practically nothing to do. I expect my duties will commence when the +young men come!"</p> + +<p>"Miss Mannering," Sir Leslie said, gravely, "is not at all attracted by +young men. She prefers something more staid. I have serious hopes that +before our little tour is over I shall have persuaded her to marry me!"</p> + +<p>"You dear man!" Clara exclaimed. "I only wish you'd give me the chance."</p> + +<p>"There's a brazen child to have to chaperon," the Duchess said. +"Positively asking for a proposal."</p> + +<p>"And not in vain," Sir Leslie declared. "Walk down to the sea with me, +Miss Clara, and I'll propose to you in my most approved fashion. I think +you said that the investments were sound, Mannering?"</p> + +<p>"The investments are all right," Mannering answered, "but I shall have +nothing to do with fortune-hunters."</p> + +<p>"And I a Cabinet Minister!" Sir Leslie declared. "Miss Clara, let us have +that walk."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow night," she promised. "When I get up it will be to go to bed. +Even your love-making, Sir Leslie, could not keep me awake to-night."</p> + +<p>The Duchess rose. The dust was gone, but she was pale, and looked tired.</p> + +<p>"Let us leave these men to make plans for us," she said. "I hope we shall +see something of you to-morrow, Mr. Mannering. Good-night, everybody."</p> + +<p>Mannering rose and bowed with the others. For a moment their eyes met. +Not a muscle of her face changed, and yet Mannering was conscious of a +sudden wave of emotion. He understood that she had not forgotten!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIb" id="CHAPTER_IIb"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE SNUB FOR BORROWDEAN</h3> + + +<p>Berenice sat at one of the small round tables in the courtyard, finishing +her morning coffee. Sir Leslie sat upon the steps by her side. It was one +of those brilliant mornings in early September, when the sunlight seems +to find its way everywhere. Even here, surrounded by the pile of worn +grey stone buildings, which threw shadows everywhere, it had penetrated. +A long shaft of soft, warm light stretched across the cobbles to their +feet. Berenice, slim and elegant, fresh as the morning itself, glanced up +at her companion with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Clara," she remarked, "does not like to be kept waiting."</p> + +<p>"She is not down yet," he answered, "and there is something I want to say +to you."</p> + +<p>Her delicate eyebrows were a trifle uplifted.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that you had better?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I am a man," he said, "and things are known to me which a woman would +scarcely discover. Do you think that it is quite fair to send Lady +Redford out motoring with Mrs. Mannering?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Lady Redford is, of course, ignorant of Mrs. Mannering's antecedents. +What you may do yourself concerns no one. You make your own social laws, +and you have a right to. But I do not think that even you have a right to +pass Blanche Phillimore on to your friends, even under the shelter of +Mannering's name."</p> + +<p>Berenice looked at him for several seconds without speaking. Borrowdean +bit his lip.</p> + +<p>"If we were not acquaintances of long standing, Sir Leslie," she said, +calmly, "I should consider your remarks impertinent. As it is, I choose +to look upon them as a regrettable mistake. The person, whoever she may +be, whom the Duchess of Lenchester chooses to receive is usually +acceptable to her friends. I beg that you will not refer to the subject +again."</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie bowed.</p> + +<p>"I have no more to say," he declared. "Knowing naturally a good deal more +than you concerning the lady in question, I considered it my duty to say +what I have said."</p> + +<p>"It is the sort of duty," Berenice murmured, "which the whole world seems +to accept always with a relish. One does not expect it so much from your +sex. Mrs. Mannering was born one of us, and she has had an unhappy life. +If she has been indiscreet she has her excuses. I choose to whitewash +her. Do you understand? I pay dearly enough for my social position, and I +certainly claim its privileges. I recognize Mrs. Mannering, and I require +my friends to do so."</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie rose up.</p> + +<p>"You are, if you will forgive my saying so," he remarked, drily, "more +generous than wise."</p> + +<p>"That," she answered, "is my affair. Here comes Clara. Before you start, +find Mr. Mannering. He is in the hotel somewhere writing letters, and +tell him that when he has finished I wish to speak to him."</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie only bowed. He felt himself opposed by a will as strong as his +own, and he was too seriously annoyed to trust himself to speech. Clara, +in her cool white linen dress, came strolling up.</p> + +<p>"What have you been doing to Sir Leslie?" she asked, laughing. "He has +just gone into the hotel with a face like a thunder-cloud."</p> + +<p>"I have been giving him a lesson in Christian charity," Berenice +answered. "He needs it."</p> + +<p>Clara nodded. She understood.</p> + +<p>"I think you are awfully kind," she said.</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled.</p> + +<p>"I hate all narrowness," she said, "and if there is a man on God's earth +who deserves to have people kind to him it is your uncle."</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie returned, and he and Clara departed for the golf links. +Berenice was left alone in the little grey courtyard, fragrant with the +perfume of scented shrubs and blossoming plants, filled too, with the +warm sunlight, which seemed to find its way into every corner. She sat at +her little table, paler than a few moments ago, her teeth clenched, her +white fingers clasped together. Underneath her muslin blouse her heart +had suddenly commenced to beat fiercely—a sense of excitement, long +absent, was stealing through her veins. The bonds which a year's studied +self-repression had forged were snapped apart. She knew now what it +meant, the great inexpressible thing, the one eternal emotion which has +come throbbing down the world from the days when poets sung their first +song and painters flung truth on to canvas. She was a woman like the +others, and she loved. Her unique position in society, her carefully +studied life, her lofty ambitions, were like vain things crumbling into +dust before her eyes. A year of cold misery seemed atoned for by the +simple fact that within a few yards of her he sat writing—that within a +few minutes he would be by her side. Of the future she scarcely thought. +Hers was the woman's love, content with small things. Its passion was of +the soul, and its song was self-sacrifice. But if she had known—if she +had only known!</p> + +<p>He came out to her soon. His manner was quiet and a little grave. +Self-control came easier to him because the truth had been with him +longer. Nevertheless, he was not wholly at his ease.</p> + +<p>"You know what has happened?" she asked, smiling. "The Redfords have +taken Mrs. Mannering and her daughter motoring, and Sir Leslie and Clara +have gone to the golf links. You and I are left to entertain one +another."</p> + +<p>"What would you like to do?" he asked, simply.</p> + +<p>"I should like to walk," she answered, "down by the sea somewhere. I am +ready now."</p> + +<p>They made their way through the little town, along the promenade and on +to the sands beyond. Then a climb, and they found themselves in a thick +wood stretching back inland from the sea. She pointed to a fallen trunk.</p> + +<p>"Let us sit down," she said. "There are so many things I want to ask +you."</p> + +<p>On the way they had spoken only of indifferent matters, yet from the +first Mannering had felt the presence of a subtle something in her +deportment towards him, for which he could find no explanation. He +himself was feeling the tension of this meeting. He had expected to find +her so different. Gracious, perhaps, because she was a great lady, but +certainly without any of these suggestions of something kept back, which +continually, without any sort of direct expression, made themselves felt. +And when they sat down she said nothing. He had the feeling that it was +because she dared not trust herself to speak. Surprise and agitation kept +him, too, silent.</p> + +<p>At last she spoke. Her voice was not very steady, and she avoided looking +at him.</p> + +<p>"I should like," she said, "to have you tell me about yourself—about +your life—and your work."</p> + +<p>"It is told in a few words," he answered. "Somewhere, somehow, I have +failed! I could not adopt the Birmingham programme, I could not oppose +it. You know what isolation means politically?—abuse from one side and +contempt from the other. That is what I am experiencing. The working +classes have some faith in me, I believe. My work, such as it is, is +solely for them. I suppose the papers tell the truth when they say that +mine is a ruined career—only, you see, I am trying to do the best I can +with the pieces."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, softly, "that is something. To do the best one can with +the pieces. We all might try to do that."</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"You, at least, have no need to consider such a thing," he said. "So far +as any woman can be preeminent in politics you have succeeded in becoming +so. I saw that a lady's paper a few weeks ago said that your influence +outside the Cabinet was more powerful than any one man's within it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, calmly, "the papers talk like that. It gives their +readers something to laugh at! I wonder what you would say, my friend, if +I told you that I, too, am engaged in that same thankless task. I, too, +am striving to do the best I can with the pieces."</p> + +<p>"You are not serious!" he protested.</p> + +<p>"I am very serious indeed," she declared. "Shall I tell you more? Shall +I tell you when I made my mistake?"</p> + +<p>"No!" he cried, hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"But I shall," she continued, suddenly gripping his arm. "I meant to tell +you. I brought you here to tell you. I made my mistake when I let Leslie +Borrowdean take you back to Lord Redford just as we were entering the +rose-garden at Bayleigh. Do you remember? I made my mistake when I +suffered anything in this great world to come between me and a woman's +only chance of happiness! I made my mistake when I was too proud to tell +you that I loved you, and that nothing else in the world mattered. There! +You tried me hard! You know that! But my mistake was none the less fatal. +I ought to have held fast by you, and I let you go. And I shall suffer +for it all my days."</p> + +<p>"You cared like that?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Worse!" she answered, turning her flushed face towards him. "I care now. +Kiss me, Lawrence!"</p> + +<p>He held her in his arms. Time stood still until she stole away with an +odd little laugh.</p> + +<p>"There," she said, "I have vindicated myself. No one can ever call me a +proud woman again. And you know the truth! I might have had you all to +myself and I let you go. Now I am going to do the best I can with the +pieces. The half of you I want belongs to your wife. I must be content +with the other half. I suppose I may have that?"</p> + +<p>"But your friends—"</p> + +<p>"Bosh! My friends and your wife must make the best of it. I shan't rob +her again as I did just now. You can blot that out—antedate it. It +belonged to the past. But I am not going through life as I have gone +through this last year, longing for a sight of you, longing to hear you +speak, and denying myself just because you are married. Live with your +wife, Lawrence, and make her as happy as you can, but remember that you +owe me a great deal, too, and you must do your best to pay it. Don't look +at me as though I were talking nonsense."</p> + +<p>He held her hand. She placed it in his unresistingly. All the lines in +his face seemed smoothed out. The fire of youth was in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Do you wonder that I am surprised?" he asked. "All this year you have +made no sign. All the time I have been schooling myself to forget you."</p> + +<p>"Don't dare to tell me that you have succeeded!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Not an iota!" he answered. "It was the most miserable failure of my +life."</p> + +<p>She smiled upon him delightfully, and gently withdrew her hand.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she said, "I am going to talk to you seriously for one +minute. You are too conscientious for a politician. Don't let the same +vice spoil our friendship! Certain things you owe to your wife. Mind, +I admit that, though from some points of view even that might be +disputed. But you also owe me certain things—and I mean to be paid. +I won't be avoided, mind. I want to be treated as a very close—and +dear—companion—and—kiss me once more, Lawrence, and then we'll begin," +she wound up, with a little sob in her throat.</p> + +<p>An hour later the whole party had <i>déjeuner</i> together in the courtyard of +the little hotel. The Duchess was noticeably kind to Mrs. Mannering, and +she snubbed Sir Leslie. Clara looked on a little gravely. The situation +contained many elements of interest.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIIb" id="CHAPTER_IIIb"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>CLOUDS—AND A CALL TO ARMS</h3> + + +<p>The first cloud appeared towards the end of the third day at Bonestre. +Blanche and Sir Leslie were left alone, and he hastened to improve the +opportunity.</p> + +<p>"The Duchess and your husband," he remarked, "appear very easily to have +picked up again the threads of their old friendship."</p> + +<p>"The Duchess," she answered, "is a very charming woman. I am sure that +you find her so, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"We are very old friends," he answered, "but I was never admitted to +exactly the same privileges as your husband enjoys."</p> + +<p>"The Duchess," she answered, calmly, "is a woman of taste!"</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie muttered something under his breath. Blanche made a movement +as though to take up again the book which she had been reading in a +sheltered corner of the hotel garden.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," he said, "that we should make better friends than +enemies?"</p> + +<p>"I am not at all sure," she answered, calmly. "To tell you the truth, +I don't fancy you particularly in either capacity."</p> + +<p>He laughed unpleasantly.</p> + +<p>"You are scarcely complimentary," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"I did not mean to be," she answered. "Why should I?"</p> + +<p>"You are content, then, to let your husband drift back into his old +relations with the Duchess? I presume that you know what they were?"</p> + +<p>"Whether I am or not," she answered, "what business is it of yours?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you, if you like," he answered. "In fact, I think it would +be better. It has been the one desire of my life to marry the Duchess of +Lenchester myself."</p> + +<p>She smiled at him scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Come," she said, "let me give you a little advice. Give up the idea. +They say that lookers-on see most of the game, and so far as I am +concerned I'm certainly the looker-on of this party. The Duchess doesn't +care a row of pins about you!"</p> + +<p>"There are other marriages, besides marriages of affection," Sir Leslie +said, stiffly. "The Duchess is ambitious."</p> + +<p>"But she is also a woman," Blanche declared. "And she is in love."</p> + +<p>"With whom?"</p> + +<p>"With my husband! I presume that is clear enough to most people!"</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie was a little staggered.</p> + +<p>"You take it very coolly," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"Why not? The Duchess is too proud a woman to give herself away, and my +husband—belongs to me!"</p> + +<p>"You haven't any idea of taking poison, or anything of that sort, I +suppose, have you?" he inquired. "The other woman nearly always does +that."</p> + +<p>"Not in real life," Blanche answered, composedly. "Besides, I'm not the +other woman—I'm the one. The Duchess is the other!"</p> + +<p>"But your husband—"</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I should prefer not to discuss my husband—with you," +Blanche said, calmly, taking up her book. "He is not the sort of man you +would be at all likely to understand. If you want a rich wife why don't +you propose to Clara Mannering? I suppose you knew that some unheard-of +aunt had left her fifty thousand pounds?"</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I don't fancy that you and I are very sympathetic this afternoon," he +remarked. "I will go and see if any one has returned."</p> + +<p>"Do," she answered. "I shall miss you, of course, but my book is +positively absorbing, and I am dying to go on with it."</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie left the garden without another word. Blanche held her book +before her face until he had disappeared. Then it slipped from her +fingers. She looked hard into a cluster of roses, and she saw only two +figures—always the same figures. Her eyes were set, her face was wan and +old.</p> + +<p>"The other woman!" she murmured to herself. "That is what I am. And +I can't live up to it. I ought to take poison, or get run over or +something, and I know very well I shan't. Bother the man! Why couldn't +he leave me alone?"</p> + +<p>After dinner that evening she accepted her husband's nightly invitation +and walked with him for a little while. The others followed.</p> + +<p>"How much longer can you stay away from England, Lawrence?" she asked +him.</p> + +<p>"Oh—a fortnight, I should think," he answered. "I am not tied to any +particular date. You like it here, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"Immensely! Are—our friends going to remain?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't heard them say anything about moving on yet," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Are you in love with the Duchess still, Lawrence?"</p> + +<p>"Am I—Blanche!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be angry! You made a mistake once, you know. Don't make another. +I'm not a jealous woman, and I don't ask much from you, but I'm your +wife. That's all!"</p> + +<p>She turned and called to Hester. The little party rearranged itself. +Mannering found himself with Berenice.</p> + +<p>"What was your wife saying to you?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It was the beginning," he remarked.</p> + +<p>Berenice sighed.</p> + +<p>"It is a strange thing," she said, "but in this world no one can ever be +happy except at some one else's expense. It is a most unnatural law of +compensation. Shall we move on to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"The day after," he pleaded. "To-morrow we are going to Berneval."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"We are queer people, I think," she said. "I have been perfectly +satisfied this week simply to be with you. When it comes to an end +I should like it to come suddenly."</p> + +<p>He thought of her words an hour later, when on his return to the hotel +they handed him a telegram. He passed it on at once to Lord Redford, and +glanced at his watch.</p> + +<p>"Poor Cunningham," he said, "it was a short triumph for him. I must go +back to-night, or the first train to-morrow morning. The sitting member +for my division of Leeds died suddenly last night, Blanche," he said to +his wife. "I must be on the spot at once."</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"I will go and pack," she said.</p> + +<p>Lady Redford followed her very soon. Clara and Sir Leslie had not yet +returned from their stroll. Lord Redford remained alone with them.</p> + +<p>"I scarcely know what sort of fortune to wish you, Mannering," he said. +"Perhaps your first speech will tell us."</p> + +<p>Berenice leaned back in her chair.</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine you as a labour member in the least," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't this force your hand a little, Mannering?" Lord Redford said. "I +understand that you were anxious to avoid a direct pronouncement upon the +fiscal policy for the present."</p> + +<p>Mannering nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"It is quite time I made up my mind," he said. "I shall do so now."</p> + +<p>"May we find ourselves in the same lobby!" Lord Redford said. "I will go +and find my man. He may as well take you to the station in the car."</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled at Mannering luminously through the shadowy lights.</p> + +<p>"Dear friend," she said, "I am delighted that you are going. Our +little time here has been delightful, but we had reached its limit. +I like to think that you are going back into the thick of it. Don't be +faint-hearted, Lawrence. Don't lose faith in yourself. You have chosen +a terribly lonely path; if any man can find his way to the top, you can. +And don't dare to forget me, sir!"</p> + +<p>He caught her cheerful tone.</p> + +<p>"You are inspiring," he declared. "Thank heaven, I have a twelve hours' +journey before me. I need time for thought, if ever a man did."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about it," she answered, lightly. "The truth is somewhere in +your brain, I suppose, and when the time comes you will find it. Much +better think about your sandwiches."</p> + +<p>The car backed into the yard. Blanche reappeared, and behind her +Mannering's bag.</p> + +<p>"I do hope that Hester and I have packed everything," she said. "We could +come over to-morrow, if there's anything you want us for. If not we shall +stay here for another week. Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>She calmly held up her lips, and Mannering kissed them after a moment's +hesitation. She remained by his side even when he turned to say farewell +to Berenice.</p> + +<p>"I am sure you ought to be going," she said calmly. "I will send on your +letters if there are any to-morrow. Wire your address as soon as you +arrive. Good luck!"</p> + +<p>The car glided away. They all stood in a group to see him go, and waved +indiscriminate farewells. Blanche moved a little apart as the car +disappeared, and Berenice watched her curiously. She was rubbing her lips +with her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"A sting!" she remarked, becoming suddenly aware of the other's scrutiny. +"Nothing that hurts very much!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IVb" id="CHAPTER_IVb"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>DISASTER</h3> + + +<p>Mannering, in his sitting-room at last, locked the door and drew a long +breath of relief. Upon his ear-drums there throbbed still the yells of +his enthusiastic but noisy adherents—the truculent cries of those who +had heard his great speech with satisfaction, of those who saw pass from +amongst themselves to a newer school of thought one whom they had +regarded as their natural leader. It was over at last. He had made his +pronouncement. To some it might seem a compromise. To himself it was the +only logical outcome of his long period of thought. He spoke for the +workingman. He demanded inquiry, consideration, experiment. He demanded +them in a way of his own, at once novel and convincing. Many of the most +brilliant articles which had ever come from his pen he abjured. He drew +a sharp line between the province of the student and the duty of the +politician.</p> + +<p>And now he was alone at last, free to think and dream, free to think of +Bonestre, to wonder what reports of his meeting would reach the little +French watering-place, and how they would be received. He could see +Berenice reading the morning paper in the little grey courtyard, with the +pigeons flying above her head and the sunlight streaming across the +flags. He could hear Borrowdean's sneer, could see Lord Redford's shrug +of the shoulders. There is little sympathy in the world for the man who +dares to change his mind.</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door, and his servant entered with a tray.</p> + +<p>"I have brought the whiskey and soda, sandwiches and cigarettes, sir," he +announced. "I am sorry to say that there is a person outside whom I +cannot get rid of. His name is Fardell, and he insists upon it that his +business is of importance."</p> + +<p>Mannering smiled.</p> + +<p>"You can show him up at once," he ordered; "now, and whenever he calls."</p> + +<p>Fardell appeared almost directly. Mannering had seen him before during +the day, but noticed at once a change in him. He was pale, and looked +like a man who had received some sort of a shock.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Fardell, and sit down," Mannering said. "You look tired. Have a +drink."</p> + +<p>Fardell walked straight to the tray and helped himself to some neat +whiskey.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," he said. "I—I've had rather a knockout blow."</p> + +<p>He emptied the tumbler and set it down.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mannering, sir," he said, "I've just heard a man bet twenty to one +in crisp five-pound bank-notes that you never sit for West Leeds."</p> + +<p>"Was he drunk or sober?" Mannering asked.</p> + +<p>"Sober as a judge!"</p> + +<p>Mannering smiled.</p> + +<p>"How often did you take him?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Not once! I didn't dare!"</p> + +<p>Mannering, who had been in the act of helping himself to a whiskey and +soda, looked around with the decanter in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you," he said, bewildered. "You know very well that +the chances, so far as they can be reckoned up, are slightly in my +favour."</p> + +<p>"They were!" Fardell answered. "Heaven knows what they are now."</p> + +<p>Mannering was a little annoyed. It seemed to him that Fardell must have +been drinking.</p> + +<p>"Do you mind explaining yourself?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I can do so," Fardell answered. "I must do so. But while I am about it +I want you to put on your hat and come with me."</p> + +<p>Mannering laughed shortly.</p> + +<p>"What, to-night?" he exclaimed. "No, thank you. Be reasonable, Fardell. +I've had my day's work, and I think I've earned a little rest. To be +frank with you, I don't like mysteries. If you've anything to say, out +with it."</p> + +<p>"Right!" Richard Fardell answered. "I am going to ask you a question, +Mr. Mannering. Go back a good many years, as many years as you like. +Is there anything in your life as a younger man, say when you first +entered Parliament, which—if it were brought up against you now—might +be—embarrassing?"</p> + +<p>Mannering did not answer for several moments. He was already pale and +tired, but he felt what little colour remained leave his face. Least of +all he had expected this. Even now—what could the man mean? What could +be known?</p> + +<p>"I am not sure that I understand you," he said. "There is nothing that +could be known! I am sure of that."</p> + +<p>"There is a person," Fardell said, slowly, "who has made extraordinary +statements. Our opponents have got hold of him. The substance of them is +this: He says that many years ago you were the lover of a married woman, +that you sold her husband worthless shares and ruined him, and that +finally—in a quarrel—he declares that he was an eye-witness of +this—that you killed him."</p> + +<p>Mannering slowly subsided into his chair. His cheeks were blanched. +Richard Fardell watched him with feverish anxiety.</p> + +<p>"It is a lie," Mannering declared. "There is no man living who can say +this."</p> + +<p>"The man says," Fardell continued, stonily, "that his name is Parkins, +and that he was butler to Mr. Stephen Phillimore eleven years ago."</p> + +<p>"Parkins is dead!" Mannering said, hoarsely. "He has been dead for many +years."</p> + +<p>"He is living in Leeds to-day," Fardell answered. "A journalist from the +<i>Yorkshire Herald</i> was with him for two hours this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Blanche—I was told that he was dead," Mannering said.</p> + +<p>"Then the story is true?" Fardell asked.</p> + +<p>"Not as you have told it," Mannering answered.</p> + +<p>"There is truth in it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Richard Fardell was silent for several moments. He paced up and down the +room, his hands behind his back, his eyebrows contracted into a heavy +frown. For him it was a bitter moment. He was only a half-educated, +illiterate man, possessed of sturdy common sense and a wonderful tenacity +of purpose. He had permitted himself to indulge in a little silent but +none the less absolute hero-worship, and Mannering had been the hero.</p> + +<p>"You must come with me at once and see this man," he said at last. "He +has not yet signed his statement. We must do what we can to keep him +quiet."</p> + +<p>Mannering took up his coat and hat without a word. They left the hotel, +and Fardell summoned a cab.</p> + +<p>"It is a long way," he explained. "We will drive part of the distance and +walk the rest. We may be watched already."</p> + +<p>Mannering nodded. The last blow was so unexpected that he felt in a sense +numbed. His speech only a few hours ago had made large inroads upon his +powers of endurance. His partial recantation had cost him many hours of +torture, from which he was still suffering. And now, without the +slightest warning, he found himself face to face with a crisis far +graver, far more acute. Never in his most gloomy moments had he felt any +real fear of a resurrection of the past such as that with which he was +now threatened. It was a thunderbolt from a clear sky. Even now he found +it hard to persuade himself that he was not dreaming.</p> + +<p>They were in the cab for nearly half an hour before Fardell stopped and +dismissed it. Then they walked up and down and across streets of small +houses, pitiless in their monotony, squalid and depressing in their +ugliness.</p> + +<p>Finally Fardell stopped, and without hesitation knocked at the door of +one of them. It was opened by a man in shirt-sleeves, holding a tallow +candle in his hand.</p> + +<p>"What yer want?" he inquired, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Your lodger," Fardell answered, pushing past him and drawing Mannering +into the room. "Where is he?"</p> + +<p>The man jerked his thumb upwards.</p> + +<p>"Where he won't be long," he answered, shortly. "The likes of 'im having +visitors, and one a toff, too. Say, are yer going to pay his rent?"</p> + +<p>"We may do that," Fardell answered. "Is he upstairs?"</p> + +<p>"Ay!" the man answered, shuffling away. "Pay 'is rent, and yer can chuck +'im out of the winder, if yer like!"</p> + +<p>They climbed the crazy staircase. Fardell opened the door of the room +above without even the formality of knocking. An old man sat there, +bending over a table, half dressed. Before him were several sheets of +paper.</p> + +<p>"I believe we're in time," Fardell muttered, half to himself. "Parkins, +is that you?" he asked, in a louder tone.</p> + +<p>The old man looked up and blinked at them. He shaded his eyes with one +hand. The other he laid flat upon the papers before him. He was old, +blear-eyed, unkempt.</p> + +<p>"Is that Master Ronaldson?" he asked, in a thin, quavering tone. "I've +signed 'em, sir. Have yer brought the money? I'm a poor old man, and I +need a drop of something now and then to keep the life in me. If yer'll +just hand over a trifle I'll send out for—eh—eh, my landlord, he's a +kindly man—he'll fetch it. Eh? Two of yer! I don't see so well as I +did. Is that you, Mr. Ronaldson, sir?"</p> + +<p>Fardell threw some silver coins upon the table. The old man snatched them +up eagerly.</p> + +<p>"It's not Mr. Ronaldson," he said, "but I daresay we shall do as well. We +want to talk to you about those papers there."</p> + +<p>The old man nodded. He was gazing at the silver in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I've writ it all out," he muttered. "I told 'un I would. A pound a week +for ten years. That's what I 'ad! And then it stopped! Did she mean me to +starve, eh? Not I! John Parkins knows better nor that. I've writ it all +out, and there's my signature. It's gospel truth, too."</p> + +<p>"We are going to buy the truth from you," Fardell said. "We have more +money than Ronaldson. Don't be afraid. We have gold to spare where +Ronaldson had silver."</p> + +<p>The old man lifted the candle with shaking fingers. Then it dropped with +a crash to the ground, and lay there for a moment spluttering. He shrank +back.</p> + +<p>"It's 'im!" he muttered. "Don't kill me, sir. I mean you no harm. It's +Mr. Mannering!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Vb" id="CHAPTER_Vb"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE JOURNALIST INTERVENES</h3> + + +<p>The old man had sunk into a seat. His face and hands were twitching with +fear. His eyes, as though fascinated, remained fixed upon Mannering's. +All the while he mumbled to himself. Fardell drew Mannering a little on +one side.</p> + +<p>"What can we do with him?" he asked. "We might tear up those sheets, give +him money, keep him soddened with drink. And even then he'd give the +whole show away the moment any one got at him. It isn't so bad as he +makes out, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"It is not so bad as that," Mannering answered, "but it is bad enough."</p> + +<p>"What became of the woman?" Fardell asked. "Parkins's mistress, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"She is my wife," Mannering answered.</p> + +<p>Fardell threw out his hands with a little gesture of despair.</p> + +<p>"We must get him away from here," he said. "If Polden gets hold of him +you might as well resign at once. It is dangerous for you to stay. He was +evidently expecting that fellow Ronaldson to-night."</p> + +<p>Mannering nodded.</p> + +<p>"What shall you do with him?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Hide him if I can," Fardell answered, grimly. "If I can get him out of +this place, it ought not to be impossible. The most important thing at +present is for you to get away without being recognized."</p> + +<p>Mannering took up his hat.</p> + +<p>"I will go," he said. "I shall leave the cab for you. I can find my way +back to the hotel."</p> + +<p>Fardell nodded.</p> + +<p>"It would be better," he said. "Turn your coat-collar up and draw your +hat down over your eyes. You mustn't be recognized down here. It's a +pretty low part."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, Mannering had not reached the corner of the street before +he heard hasty footsteps behind him, and felt a light touch upon his +shoulder. He turned sharply round.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir!" he exclaimed, "what do you want with me?"</p> + +<p>The newcomer was a tall, thin young man, wearing glasses, and although he +was a complete stranger to Mannering, he knew at once who he was.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mannering, I believe?" he said, quickly.</p> + +<p>"What has my name to do with you, sir?" Mannering answered, coldly.</p> + +<p>"Mine is Ronaldson," the young man answered. "I am a reporter."</p> + +<p>Mannering regarded him steadily for a moment.</p> + +<p>"You are the young man, then," he said, "who has discovered the mare's +nest of my iniquity."</p> + +<p>"If it is a mare's nest," the young man answered, briskly, "I shall be +quite as much relieved as disappointed. But your being down here doesn't +look very much like that, does it?"</p> + +<p>"No man," Mannering answered, "hears that a bomb is going to be thrown at +him without a certain amount of curiosity as to its nature. I have been +down to examine the bomb. Frankly, I don't think much of it."</p> + +<p>"You are prepared, then, to deny this man Parkins's story?" the reporter +asked.</p> + +<p>"I am prepared to have a shot at your paper for libel, anyhow, if you use +it," Mannering answered.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the substance of his communication?"</p> + +<p>"I can make a pretty good guess at it," Mannering answered.</p> + +<p>"You really mean to deny it, then?" the reporter asked.</p> + +<p>"Assuredly, for it is not true," Mannering answered. "Pray don't let me +detain you any longer!"</p> + +<p>He turned on his heel and walked away, but the reporter kept pace with +him.</p> + +<p>"You will pardon me, but this is a very serious affair, Mr. Mannering," +he said. "Serious for both of us. Do you mind discussing it with me?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least," Mannering answered, "so long as you permit me to +continue my way homewards."</p> + +<p>"I will walk with you, sir, if you don't mind," the reporter said. "It is +a very serious matter indeed, this! My people are as keen as possible to +make use of it. If they do, and it turns out a true story, you, of +course, will never sit for Leeds. And if on the other hand it is false, +I shall get the sack!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it is false," Mannering said.</p> + +<p>"Some parts of it, perhaps," the young man answered, smoothly. "Not all, +Mr. Mannering."</p> + +<p>"Old men are garrulous," Mannering remarked. "I expect you will find that +your friend has been letting his tongue run away with him."</p> + +<p>"He has committed his statements to paper," Ronaldson remarked.</p> + +<p>"And signed them?"</p> + +<p>"He is willing to do so," the reporter answered. "I was to have fetched +them away to-night."</p> + +<p>"You may be a little late," Mannering remarked.</p> + +<p>The <i>double entente</i> in his tone did not escape Ronaldson's notice. He +stopped short on the pavement.</p> + +<p>"So you have bought him," he remarked.</p> + +<p>Mannering glanced at him superciliously.</p> + +<p>"Will you pardon me," he said, "if I remark that this conversation has no +particular interest for me? Don't let me bring you any further out of +your way."</p> + +<p>Ronaldson took off his hat.</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir," he remarked. "I will wish you good-night!"</p> + +<p>Mannering pursued his way homeward with the briefest of farewells. The +young reporter retraced his steps. Arrived at Parkins's lodgings he +mounted the stairs, and found the room empty. He returned and interviewed +the landlord. From him he only learned that Parkins had departed with one +of two gentlemen who had come to see him that evening, and that they had +paid his rent for him. The reporter was obliged to depart with no more +satisfactory information. But next morning, before nine o'clock, he was +waiting to see Mannering, and would not be denied. He was accompanied, +too, by a person of no less importance than the editor of the <i>Yorkshire +Herald</i> himself.</p> + +<p>Mannering kept them waiting an hour, and then received them coolly.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to see you, Mr. Polden," he said, glancing at the editor's +card. "I have already had some conversation with our young friend there," +he added, glancing towards the reporter. "What can I have the pleasure of +doing for you?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Polden produced a sheet of proofs from his pocket. He passed them +over to Mannering.</p> + +<p>"I should like you to examine these, sir," he said.</p> + +<p>"In type already!" Mannering remarked, calmly.</p> + +<p>"In proof for our evening's issue," Polden answered.</p> + +<p>Mannering read them through.</p> + +<p>"It will cost you several thousand pounds!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Then the money will be well spent," Polden answered. "No one has a +higher regard for you politically than I have, Mr. Mannering, but we +don't want you as member for West Leeds. That's all!"</p> + +<p>"It happens," Mannering said, "that I am particularly anxious to sit for +West Leeds."</p> + +<p>"You will go on—in the face of this?" the editor asked Mannering.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and with the suit for libel which will follow," Mannering answered.</p> + +<p>The editor shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Do me the favour to believe, Mr. Mannering," he said, "that we have not +gone into this matter blindfold. We had a preliminary intimation as to +this affair from a person whose word carries considerable weight, and our +investigations have been searching. I will admit that the disappearance +of the man Parkins is a little awkward for us, but we have ample +justification in publishing his story."</p> + +<p>"I trust for your sakes that the law courts will support your views," +Mannering said, coldly. "I scarcely think it likely."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mannering," Polden said, "I quite appreciate your attitude, but do +you really think it is a wise one? I very much regret that it should have +been our duty to unearth this unsavoury story, and having unearthed it, +to use it. But you must remember that the issue on hand is a great one. I +belong to the Liberal party and the absolute Free Traders, and I consider +that for this city to be represented by any one who shows the least +indication of being unsafe upon this question would be a national +disaster and a local disgrace. I want you to understand, therefore, that +I am not playing a game of bluff. The proofs you hold in your hand have +been set and corrected. Within a few hours the story will stand out in +black and white. Are you prepared for this?"</p> + +<p>Mannering shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I am not prepared to resign my candidature, if that is what you mean," +he said. "I presume that nothing short of that will satisfy you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," the editor answered, firmly.</p> + +<p>"Then there remains nothing more," Mannering remarked, coldly, "than for +me to wish you a very good-morning."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," Mr. Polden said. "I trust you will believe, Mr. Mannering, +that I find this a very unpleasant duty."</p> + +<p>Mannering made no answer save a slight bow. He held open the door, and +Mr. Polden and his satellite passed out. Afterwards he strolled to the +window and looked down idly upon the crowd.</p> + +<p>"If I act in accordance with the conventions," he murmured to himself, "I +suppose I ought to take, a glass of poison, or blow my brains out. +Instead of which—"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, and rang for his hat and coat. He was due at +one of the great foundries in half an hour to speak to the men during +their luncheon interval.</p> + +<p>"Instead of which," he muttered, as he lit a cigarette, "I shall go on to +the end."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIb" id="CHAPTER_VIb"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>TREACHERY AND A TELEGRAM</h3> + + +<p>The sunlight streamed down into the little grey courtyard of the <i>Leon +D'or</i> at Bonestre. Sir Leslie Borrowdean, in an immaculate grey suit, and +with a carefully chosen pink carnation in his button-hole, sat alone at a +small table having his morning coffee. His attention was divided between +a copy of the <i>Figaro</i> and a little pile of letters and telegrams on the +other side of his plate. More than once he glanced at the topmost of the +latter and smiled.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mannering and Hester came down the grey stone steps and crossed +towards their own table. The former lingered for a moment as she passed +Sir Leslie, who rose to greet the two women.</p> + +<p>"Another glorious day!" he remarked. "What news from Leeds?"</p> + +<p>"None," she said. "My husband seldom writes."</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie smiled reflectively, and glanced towards the pile of papers at +his side.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she remarked, "you know better than I do how things are going +there."</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I have no correspondents in Leeds," he answered.</p> + +<p>At that moment a puff of wind disturbed the papers by his side. A +telegram would have fluttered away, but Blanche Mannering caught it at +the edge of the table. She was handing it back, when a curious expression +on Borrowdean's face inspired her with a sudden idea. She deliberately +looked at the telegram, and her fingers stiffened upon it. His forward +movement was checked. She stood just out of his reach.</p> + +<p>"No correspondents in Leeds," she repeated. "Then what about this +telegram?"</p> + +<p>"You will permit me to remind you," he said, stretching out his hand for +it, "that it is addressed to me."</p> + +<p>Her hands were behind her. She leaned over towards him.</p> + +<p>"It can be addressed to you a thousand times over," she answered, "but +before I part with it I want to know what it means."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean was thinking quickly. He wanted to gain time.</p> + +<p>"I do not even know which document you have—purloined," he said.</p> + +<p>"It is from Leeds," she answered, "and it is signed Polden. 'Parkins +found, has made statement, appears to-night.' Can you explain what this +means, Sir Leslie Borrowdean?"</p> + +<p>Her voice was scarcely raised above a whisper, but there was a dangerous +glitter in her eyes. There were few traces left of the woman whom once +before he had found so easy a tool.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you," he answered. "It is not an affair for you to concern +yourself with at all."</p> + +<p>"Not an affair for me to concern myself about!" she repeated, leaning +a little over towards him. "Isn't it my husband against whom you are +scheming? Don't I know what low tricks you are capable of? Isn't this +another proof of it? Not an affair for me to concern myself about, +indeed! Didn't you worm the whole miserable story out of me?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Mrs. Mannering!"</p> + +<p>She checked a torrent of words. Her bosom was heaving underneath her lace +blouse. She was pale almost to the lips. The sudden and complete disuse +of all manner of cosmetics had to a certain extent blanched her face. +There was room there now for the writing of tragedy. Borrowdean, still +outwardly suave, was inwardly cursing the unlucky chance which had blown +the telegram her way.</p> + +<p>"Might I suggest," he said, in a low tone, "that we postpone our +conversation till after breakfast time? The waiters seem to be favouring +us with a great deal of attention, and several of them understand +English."</p> + +<p>She did not even turn her head. Thinner a good deal since her marriage, +she seemed to him to have grown taller, to have gained in dignity and +presence, as she stood there before him, her angry eyes fixed upon his +face. She was no longer a person to be ignored.</p> + +<p>"You must tell me about this—or—"</p> + +<p>"Or?" he repeated, stonily.</p> + +<p>"Or I will make a public statement," she answered. "If you ruin my +husband's career, I can at least do the same with yours. Politics is +supposed to be a game for honourable men to play with honourable weapons. +I wonder if Lord Redford would approve of your methods?"</p> + +<p>"You can go and ask him, my dear madam," he answered. "I am perfectly +ready to defend myself."</p> + +<p>"Defend! You have no defence," she answered. "Can you deny that you are +plotting to keep my husband out of Parliament now, just as a few months +ago you plotted to bring him back? You are making use of a personal +secret, a forgotten chapter of his life, to move him about like a puppet +to do your will."</p> + +<p>"I work for the good of a cause and a great party," he answered. "You do +not understand these things."</p> + +<p>"I understand you so far as this," she answered. "You are one of those to +whom life is a chessboard, and your one aim is to make the pieces work +for you, and at your bidding, till you sit in the place you covet. There +isn't much of the patriot about you, Sir Leslie Borrowdean."</p> + +<p>He glanced down at his unfinished breakfast. He had the air of one who is +a little bored.</p> + +<p>"My dear lady," he said, "is this discussion really worth while?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered, bluntly, "it isn't. You are quite right. We are +wandering from the subject."</p> + +<p>"Let us talk," he suggested, "after breakfast. Give me back that telegram +now, and I will explain it, say, in the garden in half an hour. I detest +cold coffee."</p> + +<p>"You can do like me, order some fresh," she said. "If I let you out of my +sight I know very well how much I shall see of you for the rest of the +day. Explain now if you can. What does that telegram mean?"</p> + +<p>"Surely it is obvious enough," he answered. "The man Parkins, whom you +told me was dead, is alive and in Leeds. He has seen Mannering's name +about, has been talking, and the press have got hold of his story. I am +sorry, but there was always this possibility, wasn't there?"</p> + +<p>"And this telegram?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I know Polden, the editor of the paper, and he referred to me to know if +there could be any truth in it."</p> + +<p>"These are lies!" she declared. "You were the instigator. You set them on +the track."</p> + +<p>"I have nothing more to say," Borrowdean declared, coldly.</p> + +<p>"I have," she said. "I shall take this telegram to Lord Redford. I shall +tell him everything!"</p> + +<p>A faint smile flickered upon Borrowdean's lips.</p> + +<p>"Lord Redford would, I am sure, be charmed to hear your story," he +remarked. "Unfortunately he started for Dieppe this morning before eight +o'clock, and will not be back until to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And to-morrow will be too late," she added, rapidly pursuing his train +of thought. "Then I will try the Duchess!"</p> + +<p>He started very slightly, but she saw it.</p> + +<p>"Sit down for a moment, Mrs. Mannering," he said.</p> + +<p>She accepted the chair he placed for her. There was a distinct change in +his manner. He realized that this woman held a trump card against him. +Even in her hands it might mean disaster.</p> + +<p>"Blanche—" he began.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she interrupted, "I prefer 'Mrs. Mannering.'"</p> + +<p>He bit his lips in annoyance.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Mannering, then," he continued, "we have been allies before, and I +think that you will admit that I have always kept faith with you. I don't +see any reason why we should play at being enemies. You have a price, I +suppose, for that telegram and your silence. Name it."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have a price," she admitted.</p> + +<p>"Remember that, after all, this is not a great issue," he said. "If your +husband does not get in for Leeds he will probably find a seat somewhere +else."</p> + +<p>"That is false," she answered, "If your man Polden publishes Parkins's +story my husband's political career is over, and you know it. Do keep as +near to the truth as you can."</p> + +<p>"I will give you," he said, "five hundred pounds for that telegram and +your silence."</p> + +<p>She rose slowly to her feet. A dull flush of colour mounted almost to +her eyes. Borrowdean watched her anxiously. Then for a moment came an +interruption. The Duchess was descending the grey stone steps from the +hotel.</p> + +<p>She had addressed some word of greeting to them. They both turned towards +her. She wore a white serge dress, and she carried a white lace parasol +over her bare head. She moved towards them with her usual languid grace, +followed by her maid carrying a tiny Maltese dog and a budget of letters. +The loiterrers in the courtyard stared at her with admiration. It was +impossible to mistake her for anything but a great lady.</p> + +<p>"You have the air of conspirators, you two!" she said, as she approached +them. "Is it an expedition for the day that you are planning?"</p> + +<p>Blanche Mannering turned her back upon Borrowdean.</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie," she said, "has just offered me five hundred pounds for a +telegram which I have here and for my silence concerning its contents. +I was wondering whether he had bid high enough."</p> + +<p>The Duchess looked from one to the other. She almost permitted herself to +be astonished. Borrowdean's face was dark with anger. Blanche Mannering's +apparent calmness was obviously of the surface only.</p> + +<p>"Are you serious?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Miserably so!" Blanche answered. "Sir Leslie has strange ideas of +honour, I find. He is making use of a story which I told him once +concerning my husband, to drive him out of political life. Duchess, will +you do me the favour to let me talk with you for five minutes, and to +make Sir Leslie Borrowdean promise not to leave this hotel till you have +seen him again?"</p> + +<p>"I have no intention of leaving the hotel," Sir Leslie said, stiffly.</p> + +<p>Berenice pointed to her table.</p> + +<p>"Come and take your coffee with me, Mrs. Mannering," she said.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mannering passed through the day like a man in a nightmare. He addressed +two meetings of working-men, and interviewed half a dozen of his workers. +At mid-day the afternoon edition of the <i>Yorkshire Herald</i> was being sold +in the streets. He bought a copy and glanced it feverishly through. +Nothing! He lunched and went on with his work. At three o'clock a second +edition was out. Again he purchased a copy, and again there was nothing. +The suspense was getting worse even than the disaster itself. Between +four and five they brought him in a telegram. He tore it open, and found +that it was from Bonestre. The words seemed to stare up at him from the +pink form. It was incredible:</p> + +<p>"Polden muzzled. Go in and win."</p> + +<p>The form fluttered from his fingers on to the floor of his sitting-room. +He stood looking at it, dazed. Outside, a mob of people, standing round +his carriage, were shouting his name.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIb" id="CHAPTER_VIIb"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>MR. MANNERING, M.P.</h3> + + +<p>Mannering threw up his window with a sigh of immense relief. The air was +cold and fresh. The land, as yet unwarmed by the slowly rising sun, was +hung with a faint autumn mist. Traces of an early frost lay in the brown +hedgerows inland; the sea was like a sheet of polished glass. Gone the +smoke-stained rows of shapeless houses, the atmosphere polluted by a +thousand chimneys belching smuts and black vapour, the clanging of +electric cars, the rattle of all manner of vehicles over the cobbled +streets. Gone the hoarse excitement of the shouting mobs, the poisonous +atmosphere of close rooms, all the turmoil and racket and anxiety of +those fighting days. He was back again in Bonestre. Below in the +courtyard the white cockatoo was screaming. The waiters in their linen +coats were preparing the tables for the few remaining guests. And the +other things were of yesterday!</p> + +<p>Mannering had arrived in the middle of the night unexpectedly, and his +appearance was a surprise to every one. He had knocked at his wife's door +on his way downstairs, but Blanche had taken to early rising, and was +already down. He found them all breakfasting together in a sheltered +corner of the courtyard.</p> + +<p>Berenice, after the usual greetings and explanations, smiled at him +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"I am not sure," she said, "whether I ought to congratulate you or not. +Sir Leslie here thinks that you mean mischief!"</p> + +<p>"Only on the principle," Borrowdean said, "that whoever is not with us is +against us."</p> + +<p>"We are all agreed upon one thing," Berenice said. "It was your last +speech, the one the night before the election, which carried you in. A +national party indeed! A legislator, not a politician! You talked to +those canny Yorkshiremen with your head in the clouds, and yet they +listened."</p> + +<p>Mannering smiled as he poured out his coffee.</p> + +<p>"I talked common sense to them," he remarked, "and Yorkshiremen like +that. We have been slaves to the old-fashioned idea of party Government +long enough. It's an absurd thing when you come to think of it. Fancy a +great business being carried on by a board of partners of divergent +views, and unable to make a purchase or a sale or effect any change +whatever without talking the whole thing threadbare, and then voting +upon it. The business would go down, of course!"</p> + +<p>"Party Government," Borrowdean declared, "is the natural evolution of +any republican form of administration. A nation that chooses its own +representatives must select them from its varying standpoint."</p> + +<p>"Their views may differ slightly upon some matters," Mannering said, +"but their first duty should be to come into accord with one another. +It is a matter for compromises, of course. The real differences between +intelligent men of either party are very slight. The trouble is that +under the present system everything is done to increase them instead +of bridging them over."</p> + +<p>"If you had to form a Government, then," Berenice asked, "you would not +choose the members from one party?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," Mannering answered. "Supposing I were the owner of +Redford's car there, and wanted a driver. I should simply try to get the +best man I could, and I should certainly not worry as to whether he were, +say, a churchman or a dissenter. The best man for the post is what the +country has a right to expect, whatever he may call himself, and the +country doesn't get it. The people pay the piper, and I consider that +they get shocking bad value for their money. The Boer War, for instance, +would have cost us less than half as much if we had had the right men to +direct the commercial side of it. That money would have been useful in +the country just now."</p> + +<p>"An absolute monarchy," Hester said, smiling, "would be really the most +logical form of Government, then? But would it answer?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Borrowdean asked. "If the monarch were incapable he would of +course be shot!"</p> + +<p>"A dictator—" Berenice began, but Mannering held out his hands, +laughing.</p> + +<p>"Think of my last few days, and spare me!" he begged. "I have thirty-six +hours' holiday. How do you people spend your time here?"</p> + +<p>Berenice took him away with her as a matter of course. Blanche watched +them depart with a curious tightening of the lips. She was standing alone +in the gateway of the hotel, and she watched them until they were out of +sight. Borrowdean, sauntering out to buy some papers, paused for a moment +as he passed.</p> + +<p>"Your husband, Mrs. Mannering," he said, drily, "is a very fortunate +man."</p> + +<p>She made no reply, and Borrowdean passed on. Hester came out with a +message from Lady Redford—would Mrs. Mannering care to motor over to +Berneval for luncheon? Blanche shook her head. She scarcely heard the +invitation. She was still watching the two figures disappearing in the +distance. Hester understood, but she spoke lightly.</p> + +<p>"I believe," she said, "that the Duchess still has hopes of Mr. +Mannering."</p> + +<p>"She is a persistent woman," Blanche answered. "They say that she +generally succeeds. Let us go in."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Berenice was listening to Mannering's account of his last few days' +electioneering.</p> + +<p>"The whole affair came upon me like a thunderclap," he told her. "Richard +Fardell found it out somehow, and he took me to see Parkins. But it was +too late. Polden had hold of the story and meant to use it. I never +imagined but that Parkins had been talking and this journalist had got +hold of him by accident. Now I understand that it was Borrowdean who was +pulling the strings."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"He traced Parkins out some time ago, and knew exactly where he was to be +found."</p> + +<p>"I think," Mannering said, "that it is time Borrowdean and I came to some +understanding. I haven't said anything about it yet. I don't exactly know +what to say now. You are a very generous woman."</p> + +<p>She sighed.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "I don't think that. Sir Leslie is a schemer of the class +I detest. I listened to him once, and I have regretted it ever since. Yet +you must remember this! If it had not been for him you would have been at +Blakely to-day."</p> + +<p>His thoughts carried him backwards with a rush. Once more the thrall of +that quiet life of passionless sweetness held him. He looked back upon it +curiously, as a man who has passed into another country. Days of physical +exaltation, alone with the sun and the wind and all the murmuring voices +of Nature, God's life he had called it then. And now! The stress of +battle was hard upon him. He was fighting in the front ranks, a somewhat +cheerless battle, fighting for great causes with inefficient weapons. But +he could not go back. Life had become a more strenuous, a more vital, a +less beautiful thing! He felt himself ageing. All the inevitable sadness +of the man in touch with the world's great problems was in his heart. But +he could not go back.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, quietly, "I owe that much to Borrowdean."</p> + +<p>"There is a question," she said, "which I have wanted to ask you. Do you +regret, or are you glad to have been forced out once more upon the +world's stage?"</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"How can I answer you?" he asked. "At Blakely I was as happy as I knew +how to be, and until you came I was content! But to-day, well, there are +different things. How can I answer your question, indeed? Tell me what +happiness means! Tell me whether it is an ignoble or a praiseworthy +state!"</p> + +<p>Berenice was silent. Into her face there had come a sudden gravity. +Mannering, glancing towards her, was at once conscious of the change. He +saw the weariness so often and zealously repressed, the ageing of her +face, the sudden triumph of the despair which in the quiet moments +chilled her heart. It seemed to him that for that moment they had come +into some closer communion. He bent over towards her.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he murmured, "you, too, are beginning to understand. Happiness is +only for the ignorant. For you and for me knowledge has eaten its way +too far into our lives. We climb all the while, but the flowers in the +meadows are the fairest."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"The little white flower which grows in the mountains is what we must +always seek," she answered. "The meadows are for the others."</p> + +<p>"We are accursed with this knowledge, and the desire for it," he +declared, fiercely. "The suffering is for us, and the joy for the beasts +of the field. Why not throw down the cards? We are the devil's puppets in +this game of life."</p> + +<p>"There is no place for us down there," she answered, sadly. "There is joy +enough for them, because the finger has never touched their eyes. But for +us—no, we have to go on! I was a foolish woman, Lawrence. I lost my +sense of proportion. Traditions, you see, were hard to break away from. I +did not understand. Let this be the end of all mention of such things +between us. We have missed the turning, and we must go on. That is the +hardest thing in life. One can never retrace one's steps."</p> + +<p>"We go on—apart?"</p> + +<p>"We must," she said. "Don't think me prejudiced, Lawrence. I must stand +by my party. Theoretically, I think that you are the only logical +politician I have ever known. Actually, I think that you are steering +your course towards the sandbanks. You will fail, but you will fail +magnificently. Well, that is something."</p> + +<p>"It is a good deal," he answered, "but if I live long enough, and my +strength remains, I shall succeed. I shall place the Government of +this country upon an altogether different basis. I shall empty the +work-houses and fill the factories. Nothing short of that will content +me. Nothing short of that would content any man upon whose shoulders the +burden has fallen."</p> + +<p>"You have centuries of prejudice to fight," she warned him. "You may not +succeed! Yet you have all my good wishes. I shall always watch you."</p> + +<p>They turned homeward in silence. All that had passed between them seemed +to be already far back in the past. Their retrogression seemed almost +symbolical. They spoke of indifferent things.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he asked, "how you came to know what was going on in Leeds."</p> + +<p>"It was your wife," she said, "who discovered it!"</p> + +<p>"My wife?"</p> + +<p>"She saw a telegram on Sir Leslie's table at breakfast, a telegram from +the man Polden. She read it and demanded an explanation. Sir Leslie tried +all he could to wriggle out of it, but in vain. She appealed to me. Even +I had a great deal of difficulty in dealing with him, but eventually he +gave way."</p> + +<p>"Then the telegram," Mannering asked, "wasn't that from you?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"It was from your wife," she said. "I cannot take much credit for myself. +It is she whom you must thank for your election. I came out at rather +a dramatic moment. Sir Leslie had just offered her money, five hundred +pounds, I think, to give him back his telegram and say nothing. She +appealed to me at once, and Sir Leslie looked positively foolish."</p> + +<p>"I am much obliged to you for telling me," Mannering muttered. He +remembered now that he had scarcely spoken a dozen words to his wife +since his return.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Mannering appears to have your interests very much at heart," +Berenice said, quietly. "She proved herself quite a match for Sir Leslie. +I think that he would have left here at once, only we are expecting Clara +back."</p> + +<p>Mannering smiled scornfully.</p> + +<p>"I do not think that even Clara," he said, "is quite fool enough not to +recognize in Borrowdean the arrant opportunist. For my part I am glad +that all pretence at friendship between us is now at an end. He is one +of those men whom I should count more dangerous as a friend than as an +enemy."</p> + +<p>Berenice did not reply. They were already in the courtyard of the hotel. +Blanche was in a wicker chair in a sunny corner, talking to a couple of +young Englishmen. Berenice turned towards the steps. They parted without +any further words.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIIb" id="CHAPTER_VIIIb"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>PLAYING THE GAME</h3> + + +<p>Mannering for a moment hesitated. One of the two young men who were +talking to his wife he recognized as a former acquaintance of hers—one +of a genus whom he had little sympathy with and less desire to know. +While he stood there Blanche laughed at some remark made by one of her +companions, and the laugh, too, seemed somehow to remind him of the old +days. He moved slowly forward.</p> + +<p>The young men strolled off almost at once. Mannering took a vacant chair +by his wife's side.</p> + +<p>"I have only just heard," he said, "how much I have to thank you for. I +took it for granted somehow that it was the Duchess who had discovered +our friend Borrowdean's little scheme and sent that telegram. Why didn't +you sign it?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It was the Duchess who made him chuck it up," she said. "I could never +have made him do that. I was an idiot to let Parkins stay in England at +all."</p> + +<p>"I always understood," he said, "that he was dead."</p> + +<p>"I let you think so," she answered. "I thought you might worry. But +seriously, if he told the truth, now, after all these years, would any +one take any notice of it?"</p> + +<p>"Very likely not," he said, "so far as regards any criminal +responsibility. But our political life is fenced about by all the +middle-class love of propriety and hatred of all form of scandal. +Parkins's story, authenticated or not, would have lost me my seat +for Leeds."</p> + +<p>"Then I am very glad," she said, "that I happened to see the telegram. Do +you know where Parkins is now?"</p> + +<p>"One of my supporters," he said, "a queer little man named Richard +Fardell, has him in tow. He is bringing him up to London, I think."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing this afternoon?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Englehall has asked me to go out in his car," she said. "I am rather +tired of motoring, but I think I shall go."</p> + +<p>Mannering lit a cigarette which he had just taken from his case.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I should," he remarked.</p> + +<p>She turned her head slowly, and looked at him.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she asked. "How can it concern you? Your plans for the +afternoon are, I presume, already made!"</p> + +<p>"It may not concern me directly," he answered, "but I have an idea that +Mr. Englehall is not exactly the sort of person I care to have you +driving about with."</p> + +<p>She laughed hardly.</p> + +<p>"I am most flattered by your interest in me," she declared. "Pray +consider Mr. Englehall disposed of. You have some other plans, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"If you care to," he said, "we will walk down to the club for lunch and +come home by the sea."</p> + +<p>"Alone?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly! Unless you choose to bring Hester."</p> + +<p>She rose slowly to her feet.</p> + +<p>"No," she said. "Let us go alone. It will be almost the first time since +we were married, I think. I am curious to see how much I can bore you! +Will you wait here while I find a hat?"</p> + +<p>She disappeared inside the hotel. Mannering watched her absently. In +a vague sort of way he was wondering what it was that had made their +married life so completely a failure. He had imagined her as asking very +little from him, content with the shelter of his name and home, content +at any rate without those things of which he had made no mention when he +had spoken to her of marriage. And he was becoming gradually aware that +it was not so. She expected, had hoped for more. The terms which he had +zealously striven to cultivate with her were terms of which she clearly +did not approve. The signs of revolt were already apparent.</p> + +<p>Mannering became absorbed in thought. He remembered clearly the feelings +with which he had gone to her and made his offer. He went over it all +again. Surely he had made himself understood? But then there was her +confession to him, the confession of her love. He had ignored that, but +it was unforgetable. Had he not tacitly accepted the whole situation? If +so, was he doing his duty? The shelter of his name and home, what were +those to a warm-hearted woman, if she loved him? He had married her, +loving another woman. She must have known this, but did she understand +that he was not prepared to make any effort to accept the inevitable? He +was still deep in thought when Berenice came out.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there all by yourself?" she asked. "Where is your +wife?"</p> + +<p>"She has gone to get a hat," he answered. "We thought of going to the +club for <i>déjeuner</i>."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"A delightful idea," she said. "Do invite me, and I will take you in the +car. Mrs. Mannering likes motoring, I know."</p> + +<p>"Of course!" he said. "We shall be delighted!"</p> + +<p>She beckoned to her chauffer, who was in the courtyard. Just then Blanche +came out. She had changed her gown for one of plain white serge, and she +wore a hat of tuscan straw which Mannering had once admired.</p> + +<p>"You won't mind motoring, Mrs. Mannering?" Berenice said, as she +approached. "I have invited myself to luncheon with you, and I am going +to take you round to the club in the car."</p> + +<p>Blanche stood quite still for a moment. The sun was in her eyes, and she +lowered her parasol for a moment.</p> + +<p>"It will be very pleasant," she said, quietly, "only I think that I will +go in and change my hat. I thought that we were going to walk."</p> + +<p>She retraced her steps, walking a little wearily. Berenice came and sat +down by Mannering's side.</p> + +<p>"I hope Mrs. Mannering does not object to my coming," she said. "It +occurred to me that she was not particularly cordial."</p> + +<p>"It is only her manner," he answered. "It is very good of you to take +us."</p> + +<p>"Your wife doesn't like me," Berenice said. "I wonder why. I thought that +I had been rather decent to her."</p> + +<p>"Blanche is a little odd," Mannering answered. "I am afraid that it is my +fault. Here are the Redfords. I wonder if they would join us."</p> + +<p>"Three," she murmured, "is certainly an awkward number."</p> + +<p>In the end the party became rather a large one, for Lord Redford met some +old friends at the club who insisted upon their joining tables. In the +interval, whilst they waited for luncheon, Mannering contrived to have +a word alone with his wife.</p> + +<p>"I am not responsible," he said, "for this enlargement of our party. The +Duchess invited herself."</p> + +<p>"It does not matter," she declared, listlessly. "What are you doing +afterwards?"</p> + +<p>"Playing golf, I fancy," he answered. "You heard what Redford said about +a foursome."</p> + +<p>"And you are returning—when?"</p> + +<p>"I must leave here at six to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>They were leaning over the white palings of the pavilion, looking out +upon the last green. She seemed to be watching the approach of two +players who were just coming in.</p> + +<p>"It is a long way to come," she remarked, "for so short a time."</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"The aftermath of a contested election is a thing to escape from," he +said. "I felt that I wanted to get as far away as possible, and then +again I wanted to find out who it was who had sent that telegram."</p> + +<p>They sat apart at luncheon, and Blanche was much quieter than usual. The +others were all old friends. It seemed to her more than ordinarily +apparent that she was present on sufferance, accepted as Mannering's +wife, as an evil to be endured, and, so far as possible, ignored. +Mannering himself spoke to her now and then across the table. Lord +Redford, always good-natured, made a few efforts to draw her into the +conversation. But it seemed to her that she had lost her confidence. The +freemasonry of old acquaintance which existed between all of them left +her outside an invisible but very real circle. Words came to her with +difficulty. She felt stupid, almost shy. When she made an effort to break +through it she was acutely conscious of her failure. Her laugh was too +hard, it lacked sincerity or restraint. The cigarette which she smoked +out of bravado with her coffee, seemed somehow out of place. When at last +luncheon was over Mannering left his place and came over to her.</p> + +<p>"The Duchess and I," he said, "are going to play Lord Redford and Mrs. +Arbuthnot. Won't you walk round with us? The links are really very +pretty."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I hate watching golf," she answered, rising and shaking out her +skirt. "Hester and I will walk home."</p> + +<p>"Do take the car, Mrs. Mannering," Berenice said. "It will simply be +waiting here doing nothing."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," Blanche answered. "I shall enjoy the walk."</p> + +<p>The foursome was played in very leisurely fashion. There was plenty of +time for conversation.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand your wife," Berenice said to Mannering. "Her +dislike of me is a little too obvious. What does it mean? Do you know?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head. He was looking very pale and tired.</p> + +<p>"I am not sure that I know anything about it at all," he said. "I am +beginning to distrust my own judgment."</p> + +<p>"Your marriage—" she began, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Don't let us talk about it," he interrupted. "I tried to pay a debt. +It seems to me that I have only incurred a fresh one."</p> + +<p>They were silent for some time. Then their opponents lost a ball and +displayed no particular diligence in attempting to find it. Berenice sat +down upon a plank seat.</p> + +<p>"Your marriage," she said, "seemed always to me a piece of quixotism. +I never altogether understood it."</p> + +<p>"It was an affair of impulse," he said, slowly. "Life from a personal +point of view had lost all interest to me. I did not dream after +my—shall we call it apostacy?—that I could rely upon even a modicum +of your friendship. I looked upon myself as an outcast commencing life +afresh. Then chance intervened. I thought I saw my way to making some +atonement to a woman whose life I had certainly helped to ruin. That was +where the serious part of the mistake came. I thought what I had to offer +would be sufficient. I am beginning now to doubt it."</p> + +<p>"And what are you going to do?" she asked, looking steadily away from +him.</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows," he answered, bitterly. "I cannot give what I do not +possess."</p> + +<p>Was it his fancy, or was there a gleam of satisfaction about her still, +pale face? He went on.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to play the hypocrite. On the other hand I don't want all +that I have done to go for nothing. Can you advise me?"</p> + +<p>"No, nor any one else," she answered, softly.</p> + +<p>"Yet I can perhaps correct a little your point of view. I think that you +overestimate your indebtedness to the woman whom you have made your wife. +Her husband was a weak, dissipated creature and he was a doomed man long +before that unfortunate day. It is even very questionable whether that +scene in which you figured had anything whatever to do in hastening his +death. That is a good many years ago, and ever since then you seem to +have impoverished yourself to find her the means to live in luxury. I +consider that you paid your debt over and over again, and that your final +act of self-abnegation was entirely uncalled for. What more she wants +from you I do not know. Perhaps I can imagine."</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence. She turned her head and looked at +him—looked him in the eyes unshamed, yet with her secret shining there +for him to see.</p> + +<p>"There may be others, Lawrence," she said, "to whom you owe something. A +woman cannot take back what she has given. There may be sufferers in the +world whom you ought also to consider. And a woman loves to think that +what she may not have herself is at least kept sacred—to her memory."</p> + +<p>"Fore!" cried Lord Redford, who had found his ball. "Awfully decent of +you people to wait so long. We were afraid you meant to claim the hole!"</p> + +<p>Mannering rose to play his shot.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill7_th.jpg"><img src="images/ill7_th.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<p>"The Duchess and I, Lord Redford," he said, lightly, "scorn to take small +advantages. We mean to play the game!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IXb" id="CHAPTER_IXb"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE TRAGEDY OF A KEY</h3> + + +<p>Blanche, in a plain black net gown, sat on Lord Redford's right hand at +the hastily improvised dinner party that evening. Berenice, more subtly +and more magnificently dressed, was opposite, by Mannering's side. The +conversation seemed mostly to circle about them.</p> + +<p>"A very charming place," Lord Redford declared. "I have enjoyed my stay +here thoroughly. Let us hope that we may all meet here again next year," +he added, raising his glass. "Mannering, you will drink to that, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart," Mannering answered. "And you, Blanche?"</p> + +<p>She raised her almost untasted glass and touched it with her lips. She +set it down with a faint smile. Berenice moved her head towards him.</p> + +<p>"Your wife is not very enthusiastic," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"She neither plays golf nor bathes," Mannering said. "It is possible that +she finds it a little dull."</p> + +<p>"Both are habits which it is possible to acquire," Berenice answered. "I +am telling your husband, Mrs. Mannering," she continued, "that you ought +to learn to play golf."</p> + +<p>"Lawrence has offered to teach me more than once," Blanche answered, +calmly. "I am afraid that games do not attract me. Besides, I am too old +to learn!"</p> + +<p>"My dear Mrs. Mannering!" Lord Redford protested.</p> + +<p>"I am forty-two," Blanche replied, "and at that age a woman thinks twice +before she begins anything new in the shape of vigorous exercise. +Besides, I find plenty to amuse me here."</p> + +<p>"Might one ask in what direction?" Berenice murmured. "I have found in +the place many things that are delightful, but not amusing."</p> + +<p>"I find amusement often in watching my neighbours," Blanche said. "I like +to ask myself what it is they want, and to study their way of attaining +it. You generally find that every one is fairly transparent when once you +have found the key—and everybody is trying for something which they +don't care for other people to know about."</p> + +<p>The Duchess looked at Blanche steadily. There was a certain insolence, +the insolence of her aristocratic birth and assured position in the level +stare of her clear brown eyes. But Blanche did not flinch.</p> + +<p>"I had no idea, Mrs. Mannering, that you had tastes of that sort," +Berenice said, languidly. "Suppose you give us a few examples."</p> + +<p>"Not for the world," Blanche answered, fervently. "Did you say that we +were to have coffee outside, Lord Redford? How delightful! I wonder if +Lady Redford is ready."</p> + +<p>They all trooped out in a minute or two. Berenice laid her hand upon +Mannering's arm.</p> + +<p>"Your wife," she said, quietly, "is going a little too far. She is +getting positively rude to me!"</p> + +<p>Mannering muttered some evasive reply. He, too, had marked the note of +battle in Blanche's tone. He had noticed, too, the unusual restraint of +her manner. She had drunk little or no wine at dinner time, and she had +talked quietly and sensibly. Directly they reached the courtyard she +seated herself on a settee for two, and made room for him by her side.</p> + +<p>"Come and tell me about the golf match," she said. "Who won?"</p> + +<p>Mannering had no alternative but to obey. Lady Redford, however, drew her +chair up close to theirs, and the conversation was always general. +Berenice in a few minutes rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Listen to the sea," she exclaimed. "Don't some of you want to come down +to the rocks and watch it?"</p> + +<p>Blanche rose up at once.</p> + +<p>"Do come, Lawrence, if you are not too tired!" she said.</p> + +<p>The whole party trooped out on to the promenade. Blanche passed her arm +through her husband's, and calmly appropriated him.</p> + +<p>"You can walk with whom you please presently, Lawrence," she said, "but +I want you for a few minutes. I suppose you will admit that I have some +claim?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Mannering answered. "I have never denied it."</p> + +<p>"I am your wife," Blanche said, "though heaven knows why you ever married +me. The Duchess is, I suppose, the woman whom you would have married if +you hadn't got into a mess with your politics. She is a very attractive +woman, and you married me, of course, out of pity, or some such maudlin +reason. But all the same I am here, and—I don't care what you do when +I can't see you, but I won't have her make love to you before my face."</p> + +<p>"The Duchess is not that sort of woman, Blanche," Mannering said, +gravely.</p> + +<p>"Isn't she?" Blanche remarked, unconvinced. "Well, I've watched her, and +in my opinion she isn't very different from any other sort of woman. Do +you wish you were free very much? I know she does!"</p> + +<p>"Is there any object to be gained by this conversation?" Mannering asked. +"Frankly, I don't like it. I made you no absurd promises when I married +you. I think that you understood the position very well. So far as I know +I have given you no cause to complain."</p> + +<p>They had reached the end of the promenade. Blanche leaned over the rail. +Her eyes seemed fixed upon a light flashing and disappearing across the +sea. Mannering stood uncomfortably by her side.</p> + +<p>"No cause to complain!" she repeated, as though to herself. "No, +I suppose not. And yet, how much the better off do you think I am, +Lawrence? I had friends before of some sort or another. Some of them +pretended to like me, even if they didn't. I did as I chose. I lived as I +liked. I was my own mistress. And now—well, there is no one! I enjoy the +respectability of your name, the privilege of knowing your friends, the +ability to pay my bills, but I should go stark mad if it wasn't for +Hester. I gave myself away to you, I know. You married me for pity, I +know. But what in God's name do I get out of it?"</p> + +<p>A note of real passion quivered in her tone. Mannering looked down at her +helplessly, taken wholly aback, without the power for a moment to +formulate his thoughts. There was a touch of colour in her pale cheeks, +her eyes were lit with an unusual fire. The faint moonlight was kind to +her. Her features, thinner than they had been, seemed to have gained a +certain refinement. She reminded him more than ever before of the Blanche +of many years ago. He answered her kindly, almost tenderly.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," he said, "if I have caused you any suffering. What I +did I did for the best. I don't think that I quite understood, and I +thought that you knew—what had come into my life."</p> + +<p>"I knew that you cared for her, of course," she answered, with a little +sob, "but I did not know that you meant to nurse it—that feeling. I +thought that when we were married you would try to care for me—a little. +I—Here are the others!"</p> + +<p>Lord Redford, who had failed to amuse Berenice, and who had a secret +preference for the woman who generally amused him, broke up their +<i>tête-à-tête</i>. He led Blanche away, and Mannering followed with Berenice.</p> + +<p>"What does this change in your wife mean?" she asked, abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Change?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes! She watches us! If it were not too absurd, one would believe her +jealous. Of course, it is not my business to ask you on what terms you +are with your wife, but—"</p> + +<p>"You know what terms," he interrupted.</p> + +<p>Her manner softened. She looked at him for a moment and then her eyes +dropped.</p> + +<p>"I am rather a hateful woman!" she said, slowly. "I wish I had not said +that. I don't think we have managed things very cleverly, Lawrence. +Still, I suppose life is made up of these sorts of idiotic blunders."</p> + +<p>"Mine," he said, "has been always distinguished by them."</p> + +<p>"And mine," she said, "only since I came to Blakely, and learnt to talk +nonsense in your rose-garden! But come," she added, more briskly, "we are +breaking our compact. We agreed to be friends, you know, and abjure +sentiment."</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"It seemed quite easy then," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"And it is easy now! It must be," she added. "I have scarcely +congratulated you upon your election. What it all means, and with which +party you are going to vote, I scarcely know even now. But I can at least +congratulate you personally."</p> + +<p>"You are generous," he said, "for I suppose I am a deserter. As to where +I shall sit, it is very hard to tell. I fancy myself that we are on the +eve of a complete readjustment of parties. Wherever I may find myself, +however, it will scarcely be with your friends."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"I realize that, and I am sorry," she said. "All that we need is a +leader, and you might have been he. As it is, I suppose we shall muddle +along somehow until some one comes out of the ruck strong enough to pull +us together.... Come and see me in London, Lawrence. Who knows but that +you may be able to convert me!"</p> + +<p>"You are too staunch," he answered, "and you have not seen what I have +seen."</p> + +<p>She sighed.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you once tell me at Blakely that politics for a woman was a +mischosen profession—that we were at once too obstinate and too +sentimental? Perhaps you were right. We don't come into touch with +the same forces that you meet with, and we come into touch with others +which make the world seem curiously upside-down. Good-night, Lawrence! +I am going to my room quietly. Lady Redford wants to play bridge, and I +don't feel like it! <i>Bon voyage!</i>"</p> + +<p>Mannering stood alone in the little courtyard, lit now with hanging +lights, and crowded with stray visitors who had strolled in from the +streets. The rest of the party had gone into the salon beyond, and +Mannering felt curiously disinclined to join them. Suddenly there was a +touch upon his arm. He turned round. Blanche was standing there looking +up at him. Something in her face puzzled him. Her eyes fell before his. +She was pale, yet as he looked at her a flood of colour rushed into her +cheeks. His momentary impression of her eyes was that they were very soft +and very bright. She had thrown off her wrap, and with her left hand was +holding up her white skirt. Her right hand was clenched as though holding +something, and extended timidly towards him.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to say good-night to you—and—there was something else—this!"</p> + +<p>Something passed from her hand to his, something cold and hard. He looked +at her in amazement, but she was already on her way up the grey stone +steps which led from the courtyard into the hotel, and she did not turn +back. He opened his hand and stared at what he found there. It was a +key—number forty-four, <i>Premier étage</i>.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/ill8_th.jpg"><img src="images/ill8_th.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Xb" id="CHAPTER_Xb"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>BLANCHE FINDS A WAY OUT</h3> + + +<p>Mannering was conscious of an overpowering desire to be alone. He made +his way out of the courtyard and back to the promenade. Some of the +lights were already extinguished, and a slight drizzling rain was +falling. He walked at once to the further wall, and stood leaning over, +looking into the chaos of darkness. The key, round which his fingers +were still tightly clenched, seemed almost to burn his flesh.</p> + +<p>What to do? How much more of himself was he bound to surrender? Through a +confusion of thoughts some things came to him then very clearly. Amongst +others the grim, pitiless selfishness of his life. How much must she have +suffered before she had dared to do this thing! He had taken up a burden +and adjusted the weight to suit himself. He had had no thought for her, +no care save that the seemliness of his own absorbed life might not be +disturbed. And behind it all the other reason. What a pigmy of a man he +was, after all.</p> + +<p>A clock from the town struck eleven. He must decide! A vision of her rose +up before him. He understood now her weakness and her strength. She was +an ordinary woman, seeking the affection her sex demanded from its +legitimate source. He understood the coming and going of the colour in +her cheeks, her strained attempts to please, her barely controlled +jealousy. In that mad moment when he had planned for her salvation he had +imagined that she would have understood. What folly! Why should she? The +complex workings of his innermost nature were scarcely likely to have +been patent to her. What right had he to build upon that? What right, as +an honest man, to contract a debt he never meant to pay? If he had not at +the moment realized his responsibilities that was his own fault. From her +point of view they were obvious enough, and it was from her point of view +as well as his own that they must be considered.</p> + +<p>He turned back to the hotel, walking a little unsteadily. All the time he +was not sure that this was not a dream. And then on the wet pavement he +came face to face with two cloaked figures, one of whom stopped short and +called him by name. It was Berenice!</p> + +<p>"You!" he exclaimed, more than ever sure that he was not properly awake.</p> + +<p>"Is it so wonderful?" she answered. "To tell you the truth, I was not +sleepy, and I felt like a little walk. You can go back now, Bryan," she +said, turning to her maid. "Mr. Mannering will see me home."</p> + +<p>As though by mutual consent they crossed to the sea-wall.</p> + +<p>"What made you come out again?" she asked. "No, don't answer me! I think +that I know."</p> + +<p>"Impossible," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"I was going up to my room," she said, "and as I passed the landing +window which looks into the courtyard I saw you talking to your wife. +I—I am afraid that I watched. I saw her leave you."</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"What was it that she gave you? What is it that you have in your hand?"</p> + +<p>He opened his fingers. She turned her head away. It seemed to him an +eternity that she stood there. When she spoke her voice was scarcely more +than a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence," she said, "we have been very selfish, you and I! There have +been no words between us, but I think the compact has been there all the +same. It seemed to me somehow that it was a compensation, that it was +part of the natural order of things, that as our own folly had kept us +apart, you should still belong to me—in my thoughts. And I have no right +to this, or any share of you, Lawrence."</p> + +<p>He drew a little nearer to her. She moved instantly away.</p> + +<p>"I am glad," she said, "that our party breaks up to-morrow. When we meet +again, Lawrence, it must be differently. I am parting with a great deal +that has been precious to me, but it must be. It is quite clear."</p> + +<p>"I made no promise!" he cried, hoarsely. "I did not mean—"</p> + +<p>She stopped him with a swift glance.</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. You and I are not of the race of people who shrink from +their duty, or fear to do what is right. Your wife's face taught me mine. +Your conscience will tell you yours."</p> + +<p>"You mean?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean. We shall meet again, of course, but this is none +the less our farewell. No, don't touch me! Not even my hand, Lawrence. +Don't make it any harder. Let us go in."</p> + +<p>But he did not move. The place where they stood was deserted. From below +the white spray came leaping up almost to their faces as the waves beat +against the wall. Behind them the town was black and deserted, save where +a few lights gleamed out from the hotel. She shivered a little, and drew +her cloak around her.</p> + +<p>"Come," she said, "I am getting cold and cramped."</p> + +<p>He walked by her side to the hotel. At the foot of the steps she left +him.</p> + +<p>"We shall meet again in London," she said, quietly. "Don't be too hard +upon your old friends when you take your seat. Remember that you were +once one of us."</p> + +<p>She looked round and waved her hand as she disappeared. He caught a +glimpse of her face as she passed underneath the hanging lamp—the face +of a tired woman suddenly grown old. With a little groan he made his way +into the hotel, and slowly ascended the stairs.</p> + +<p>Early the next morning Mannering left Bonestre, and in twenty-four hours +he was back again, summoned by a telegram which had met him in London. It +seemed to him that everybody at the station and about the hotel regarded +him with shocked and respectful sympathy. Hester, looking like a ghost, +took him at once to her room. He was haggard and weary with rapid +travelling, and he sank into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Tell me—the worst!" he said.</p> + +<p>"She started with Mr. Englehall about mid-day," Hester said. "They had +luggage, but I explained that he was going to Paris, she was coming back +by train. At two o'clock we were rung up on the telephone. Their brake +had snapped going down the hill by St. Entuiel, and the chauffeur—he is +mad now—but they think he lost his nerve. They were dashed into a tree, +and—they were both dead—when they were got out from the wreck."</p> + +<p>"God in Heaven!" Mannering murmured, white to the lips.</p> + +<p>There was a silence between them. Mannering had covered his head with his +hands. Hester tried once or twice to speak, but the tears were streaming +from her eyes. She had the air of having more to say. The white horror of +tragedy was still in her face.</p> + +<p>"There is a letter," she said at last. "She left a letter for you."</p> + +<p>Mannering rose slowly to his feet and moved to the lamp. Directly he had +broken the seal he understood. He read the first line and looked up. His +eyes met Hester's.</p> + +<p>"Who knows—this?" he asked, hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"No one! They had not been gone two hours. I explained everything."</p> + +<p>Then Mannering read on.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Husband</span>:</p> + +<p>"I call you that for the last time, for I am going off with Englehall to +Paris. Don't be too shocked, and don't despise me too much. I am just a +very ordinary woman, and I'm afraid I've bad blood in my veins. Anyhow, +I can't go on living under a glass case any longer. The old life was +rotten enough, but this is insupportable. I'm going to have a fling, and +after that I don't care what becomes of me.</p> + +<p>"Now, Lawrence, I don't want you to blame yourself. I did think perhaps +that when we were married I might have got you to care for me a little, +but I suppose that was just my vanity. It wasn't very possible with a +woman like—well, never mind who—about. You did your best. You were very +nice and very kind to me last night, but it wasn't the real thing, was +it? I knew you hated being where you were. I could almost hear your sigh +of relief when I let you go. The fact of it is, our marriage was a +mistake. I ought to have been satisfied with your name, I suppose, and +the position it gave me, but I'm not that sort of woman. I've been in +Bohemia too long. I like cheery friends, even if their names are not in +Debrett, and I must have some one to care for me, or to pretend to care +for me. You know I've cared for you—only you in a certain way—but I'm +not heroic enough to be content with a shadowy love. I'm not an idealist. +Imagination doesn't content me in the least. I'd rather have an inferior +substance than ideal perfection. You see, I'm a very commonplace person +at heart, Lawrence—almost vulgar. But these are my last words to you, +so I've gone in for plain speaking. Now you're rid of me.</p> + +<p>"That's all! From your point of view I suppose, and your friends, I've +gone to the devil. Don't be too sure of it. I'm going to have a good +time, and when the end comes I'm willing to pay. If you are idiotic +enough to come after me, I shall be angry with you for the first time +in my life, and it wouldn't be the least bit of use. Englehall's an old +friend of mine, and he's a good sort. He's wanted me to do this often +enough for years, but I never felt quite like it. I believe he'd marry +me after, but he's got a wife shut up somewhere.</p> + +<p>"I expect you think this a callous sort of letter. Well, I can't help +it. If it disgusts you with me, so much the better. I'm sorry for the +scandal, but you will get over that. Good-bye, Lawrence. Forgive me all +the bother I've been to you.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Blanche</span>."</p></div> + +<p>Mannering looked up from the letter, and again his eyes met Hester's. The +secret was theirs alone. Very carefully he tore the pages into small +pieces. Then he opened the stove and watched them consumed.</p> + +<p>"No one will ever know," Hester said. "She said—when she left—that it +was a morning's ride—but motors were so uncertain that she took a bag."</p> + +<p>Mannering's eyes were filled once more with tears. The intolerable pity +of the whole thing, its awful suddenness swept every other thought out of +his mind. He remembered how anxiously she had tried to please him on that +last night. He loathed himself for the cold brutality of his chilly +affection. Hester came and knelt by his side, but she said nothing. So +the hours passed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BOOK IV</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Ic" id="CHAPTER_Ic"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE PERSISTENCY OF BORROWDEAN</h3> + + +<p>"And what does Mannering think of it all, I wonder!" Lord Redford +remarked, lighting a fresh cigarette. "This may be his opportunity, who +can tell!"</p> + +<p>"Will he have the nerve to grasp it?" Borrowdean asked. "Mannering has +never been proved in a crisis."</p> + +<p>"He may have the nerve. I should be more inclined to question the +desire," Lord Redford said. "For a man in his position he has always +seemed to me singularly unambitious. I don't think that the prospect of +being Prime Minister would dazzle him in the least. It is part of the +genius of the politician too, to know exactly when and how to seize an +opportunity. I can imagine him watching it come, examining it through his +eyeglass, and standing on one side with a shrug of the shoulders."</p> + +<p>"You do not believe, then," Berenice said, "that he is sufficiently in +earnest to grasp it?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," Lord Redford said. "I have that feeling about Mannering, I +must admit, especially during the last two years. He seems to have drawn +away from all of us, to live altogether too absorbed and self-contained +a life for a man who has great ambitions to realize, or who is in +downright earnest about his work."</p> + +<p>"What you all forget when you discuss Lawrence Mannering is this," +Berenice said. "He holds his position almost as a sacred charge. He is +absolutely conscientious. He wants certain things for the sake of the +people, and he will work steadily on until he gets them. I believe it is +the truth that he has no personal ambition, but if the cause he has at +heart is to be furthered at all it must be by his taking office. +Therefore I think that when the time comes he will take it."</p> + +<p>"That sounds reasonable enough," Lord Redford admitted. "By the bye, did +you notice that he is included in the house party at Sandringham again +this week?"</p> + +<p>Anstruther, the youngest Cabinet Minister, and Lord Redford's nephew, +joined in the conversation.</p> + +<p>"I can tell you something for a fact," he said. "My cousin is +Lady-in-Waiting, and she's been up in town for a few days, and she asked +me about Mannering. A Certain Personage thinks very highly of him indeed. +Told some one that Mr. Mannering was the most statesman-like politician +in the service of his country. I believe he'd sooner see Mannering Prime +Minister than any one."</p> + +<p>"But he has no following," Borrowdean objected.</p> + +<p>"I think," Berenice said, slowly, "that he keeps as far aloof as possible +for one reason, and one reason only. He avoids friendship, but he makes +no enemies. He cultivates a neutral position whenever he can. What he is +looking forward to, I am sure, is to found a coalition Government."</p> + +<p>"It is very possible," Lord Redford remarked. "I wonder if he will ask me +to join."</p> + +<p>"Always selfish," Berenice laughed. "You men are all alike!"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," Lord Redford answered, "my interest was purely +patriotic. I cannot imagine the affairs of the country flourishing +deprived of my valuable services. Let us go and wander through the +crowd. Members of a Government in extremes like ours ought not to whisper +together in corners. It gives rise to comment."</p> + +<p>Anstruther came hurrying up. He drew Redford on one side.</p> + +<p>"Mannering is here," he said, quietly. "Just arrived from Sandringham. He +is looking for you."</p> + +<p>Almost as he spoke Mannering appeared. He did not at first see Berenice, +and from the corner where she stood she watched him closely.</p> + +<p>It was two years since those few weeks at Bonestre, and during all that +time they had scarcely met. Berenice knew that he had avoided her. For +twelve months he had declined all social engagements, and since then he +had pleaded the stress of political affairs as an excuse for leading the +life almost of a recluse. Unseen herself, she studied him closely. He was +much thinner, and every trace of his once healthy colouring had +disappeared. His eyes seemed deeper set. There were streaks of grey in +his hair. But for all that to her he was unaltered. He was still the one +man in the world. She saw him shake hands with Lord Redford and draw him +a little on one side.</p> + +<p>"Can you spare me five minutes?" he asked. "I have a matter to discuss +with you."</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" Lord Redford answered. "I am leaving directly, and I might +drive you home if you liked. We heard that you were at Sandringham."</p> + +<p>"I came up this afternoon," Mannering answered. "I heard that you were +likely to be here, and as Lady Herrington had been kind enough to send me +a card I came on."</p> + +<p>Lord Redford nodded.</p> + +<p>"Borrowdean and Anstruther are here too," he remarked. "We all felt in +need of diversion. As you know very well, we're in a tight corner."</p> + +<p>Berenice came out from her place. At the sound of the rustling of her +skirts both men turned their heads. She wore a gown of black velvet and a +wonderful rope of pearls hung from her neck. She raised her hand and +smiled at Mannering.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to see you again," she said, softly. "It is quite an age since +we met, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>He held her hand for a moment. The touch of his fingers chilled her. He +greeted her with quiet courtesy, but there was no answering smile upon +his lips.</p> + +<p>"I have heard often of your movements from Clara," he said. "You have +been very kind to her."</p> + +<p>"It has never occurred to me in that light," she said. "Clara needs a +chaperon, and I need a companion. We were talking yesterday of going to +Cairo for the winter. My only fear is that I am robbing you of your +niece."</p> + +<p>"Please do not let that trouble you," he said. "Clara would be a most +uncomfortable member of my household."</p> + +<p>"But are you never at all lonely?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I never have time to think of such a thing," he answered. "Besides, I +have Hester. She makes a wonderful secretary, and she seems to enjoy the +work."</p> + +<p>"I should like to have a talk with you some time," she said. "Won't you +come and see me?"</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p>"It is very kind of you to ask me," he said. "Don't think me churlish, +but I go nowhere. I am trying to make up, you see, for my years of +idleness."</p> + +<p>She looked at him steadfastly, and her heart sank. The change in +his outward appearance seemed typical of some deeper and more final +alteration in his whole nature. She felt herself powerless against the +absolute impenetrability of his tone and manner. She felt that he had +fought a battle within himself and conquered; that for some reason or +other he had decided to walk no longer in the pleasanter paths of life. +She had come to him unexpectedly, but he had shown no sign of emotion. +Her influence over him seemed to be wholly a thing of the past. She made +one more effort.</p> + +<p>"I think," she said, "that as one grows older one parts the less readily +with the few friends who count. I hope that you will change your mind."</p> + +<p>He bowed gravely, but he made no answer. Berenice took Borrowdean's +arm and passed on. There was a little spot of colour in her cheeks. +Borrowdean felt nerved to his enterprise.</p> + +<p>"Let us go somewhere and sit down for a few minutes," he suggested. "The +rooms are so hot this evening."</p> + +<p>She assented without words, and he found a solitary couch in one of the +further apartments.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," he said, after a moment's pause, "whether I might say +something to you, whether you would listen to me for a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Berenice was absorbed in her own thoughts. She allowed him to proceed.</p> + +<p>"For a good many years," he said, lowering his voice a little, "I have +worked hard and done all I could to be successful. I wanted to have some +sort of a position to offer. I am a Cabinet Minister now, and although I +don't suppose we can last much longer this time, I shall have a place +whenever we are in again."</p> + +<p>The sense of what he was saying began to dawn upon her. She stopped him +at once.</p> + +<p>"Please do not say any more, Sir Leslie," she begged. "I should have +given you credit for sufficient perception to have known beforehand the +absolute impossibility of—of anything of the sort."</p> + +<p>"You are still a young woman," he said, quietly. "The world expects you +to marry again."</p> + +<p>"I have no interest in what the world expects of me," she answered, "but +I may tell you at once that my refusal has nothing whatever to do with +the question of marriage in the abstract. You are a man of perception, +Sir Leslie! It will be, I trust, sufficient if I say that I have no +feelings whatever towards you which would induce me to consider the +subject even for a moment."</p> + +<p>She was unchanged, then! This time he recognized the note of finality +in her tone. All the time and thought he had given to this matter were +wasted. He had failed, and he knew why. He seldom permitted himself the +luxury of anger, but he felt all the poison of bitter hatred stirring +within him at that moment, and craving for some sort of expression. There +was nothing he could do, nothing he could say. But if Mannering had been +within reach then he would have struck him. He rose and walked slowly +away.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIc" id="CHAPTER_IIc"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>HESTER THINKS IT "A GREAT PITY"</h3> + + +<p>"You will understand," Mannering said, as the brougham drove off, "that +you and I are speaking together merely as friends. I have nothing +official to say to you. It would be presumption on my part to assume that +the time is ripe for anything definite while you are still at the head of +an unbeaten Government. But one learns to read the signs of the times. +I think that you and I both know that you cannot last the session."</p> + +<p>"It is a positive luxury at times," Redford answered, "to be able to +indulge in absolute candour. We cannot last the session. You pulled us +through our last tight corner, but we shall part, I suppose, on the New +Tenement Bill, and then we shall come a cropper."</p> + +<p>Mannering nodded.</p> + +<p>"The Opposition," he said, "are not strong enough to form a Government +alone. And I do not think that a one-man Cabinet would be popular. It +has been suggested to me that at no time in political history have the +conditions been more favourable for a really strong coalition Government, +containing men of moderate views on both sides. I am anxious to know +whether you would be willing to join such a combination."</p> + +<p>"Under whom?" Lord Redford asked.</p> + +<p>"Under myself," Mannering answered, gravely. "Don't think me +over-presumptuous. The matter has been very carefully thought out. You +could not serve under Rushleigh, nor could he serve under you. But you +could both be invaluable members of a Cabinet of which I was the nominal +head. I do not wish to entrap you into consent, however, without your +fully understanding this: a modified, and to a certain extent an +experimental, scheme of tariff reform would be part of our programme."</p> + +<p>"You wish for a reply," Lord Redford said, "only in general terms?"</p> + +<p>"Only in general terms, of course," Mannering assented.</p> + +<p>"Then you may take it," Lord Redford said, "that I should be proud to +become a member of such a Government. Anything would be better than a +fourth-party administration with Imperialism on the brain and rank +Protection on their programme. They might do mischief which it would take +centuries to undo."</p> + +<p>"We understand one another, Lord Redford," Mannering said, simply. "I am +very much obliged to you. This is my turning."</p> + +<p>Mannering, when he found himself alone in his study, drew a little sigh +of relief. He flung himself into an easy-chair, and sat with his hands +pressed against his temples. The events of the day, from the morning at +Sandringham to his recent conversation with Lord Redford, were certainly +of sufficiently exciting a nature to provide him with food for thought. +And yet his mind was full of one thing only, this chance meeting with +Berenice. It was wonderful to him that she should have changed so little. +He himself felt that the last two years were equal to a decade, that +events on the other side of that line with which his life was riven were +events with which some other person was concerned, certainly not the +Lawrence Mannering of to-day. And yet he knew now that the battle which +he had fought was far from a final one. Her power over him was unchanged. +He was face to face once more with the old problem. His life was sworn to +the service of the people. He had crowded his days with thoughts and +deeds and plans for them. Almost every personal luxury and pleasure had +been abnegated. He had found a sort of fierce delight in the asceticism +of his daily life, in the unflinching firmness with which he had barred +the gates which might lead him into smoother and happier ways. To-night +he was beset with a sudden fear. He rose and looked at himself in the +glass. He was pale and wan. His face lacked the robust vitality of a few +years ago. He was ageing fast. He was conscious of certain disquieting +symptoms in the routine of his daily life. He threw himself back into the +chair with a little groan. The mockery of his life of ceaseless toil +seemed suddenly to spread itself out before him, a grim and unlovely +jest. What if his strength should go? What if all this labour and +self-denial should be in vain? He found himself growing giddy at the +thought.</p> + +<p>He rang the bell and ordered wine. Then he went to the telephone and rang +up a doctor who lived near. Very soon, with coat and waistcoat off, he +was going through a somewhat prolonged examination. Afterwards the doctor +sat down opposite to him and accepted a cigar.</p> + +<p>"What made you send for me this evening?" he asked, curiously.</p> + +<p>Mannering hesitated.</p> + +<p>"An impulse," he said. "To-morrrow I should have no time to come to +you. I wasn't feeling quite myself, and it is possible that I may be +undertaking some very important work before long."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't if I were you," the doctor remarked, quietly.</p> + +<p>"The work is of such a nature," Mannering said, "that I could not refuse +it. It may not come, but if it does I must go through with it."</p> + +<p>"I doubt whether you will succeed," the doctor said. "There is nothing +the matter with you except that you have been drawing on your reserve +stock of strength to such an extent that you are on the verge of a +collapse. The longer you stave it off the more complete it will be."</p> + +<p>"You are a Job's comforter," Mannering remarked, with a smile. "Send me +some physic, and I will take things as easy as I can."</p> + +<p>"I'll send you some," the doctor answered, "but it won't do you much +good. What you want is rest and amusement."</p> + +<p>Mannering laughed, and showed him out. When he returned to his study +Hester was there, just returned from a visit to the theatre with some +friends. She threw off her wrap and looked through the letters which had +come by the evening's post.</p> + +<p>"Did you see this from Richard Fardell?" she asked him. "Parkins is dead +at last. Fardell says that he has been quite childish for the last +eighteen months! Are you ill?" she broke off, suddenly.</p> + +<p>Mannering, who was lying back in his easy-chair, white almost to the +lips, roused himself with an effort. He poured out a glass of wine and +drank it off.</p> + +<p>"I'm not ill," he said, with rather a weak smile, "but I'm a little +tired."</p> + +<p>"Who was your visitor?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"A doctor. I felt a little run down, so I sent for him. Of course he told +me the usual story. Rest and a holiday."</p> + +<p>She came and sat on the arm of his chair. Every year she grew less and +less like her mother. Her hair was smoothly brushed back from her +forehead, and her features were distinctly intellectual. She was by far +the best secretary Mannering had ever had.</p> + +<p>"You need some one to look after you," she said, decisively.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that you do that pretty well," he answered. "I don't want +any one else."</p> + +<p>"You need some one with more authority than I have," she said. "You ought +to marry."</p> + +<p>"Marry!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Any particular person?"</p> + +<p>"Of course! You know whom."</p> + +<p>Mannering did not reply at once. He was looking steadfastly into the +fire, and the gloom in his face was unlightened.</p> + +<p>"Hester," he said, at last, in a very low tone, "I will tell you, if you +like, a short, a very short chapter of my life. It lasted a few hours, a +day or so, more or less. Yet of course it has made a difference always."</p> + +<p>"I should like to hear it," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"The two great events of my life," he said, "came together. I was engaged +to be married to the Duchess of Lenchester at the same time that I found +myself forced to sever my connexion with the Liberal party. You know, of +course, that the Duchess has always been a great figure in politics. She +has ambitions, and her political creed is almost a part of the religion +of her life. She looked upon my apostasy with horror. It came between us +at the very moment when I thought that I had found in life the one great +and beautiful thing."</p> + +<p>"If ever she let it come between you," Hester interrupted, softly, "I +believe that she has repented. We women are quick to find out those +things, you know," she added, "and I am sure that I am right. She has +never married any one else. I do not believe that she ever will."</p> + +<p>"It is too late," Mannering said. "A union between us now could only lead +to unhappiness. The disintegration of parties is slowly commencing, and I +think that the next few years will find me still further apart than I am +to-day from my old friends. Berenice"—he slipped so easily into calling +her so—"is heart and soul with them."</p> + +<p>"At least," Hester said, "I think that for both your sakes you should +give her the opportunity of choosing."</p> + +<p>"Even that," he said, "would not be wise. We are man and woman still, you +see, Hester, and there are moments when sentiment is strong enough to +triumph over principle and sweep our minds bare of all the every-day +thoughts. But afterwards—there is always the afterwards. The conflict +must come. Reason stays with us always, and sentiment might weaken with +the years."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"The Duchess is a woman," she said, "and the hold of all other things +grows weak when she loves. Give her the chance."</p> + +<p>"Don't!" Mannering exclaimed, almost sharply. "You can't see this matter +as I do. I have vowed my life now. I have seen my duty, and I have kept +my face turned steadily towards it. Once I was contented with very +different things, and I think that I came as near happiness then as a man +often does. But those days have gone by. They have left a whole world of +delightful memories, but I have locked the doors of the past behind me."</p> + +<p>Hester shook her head.</p> + +<p>"You are making a mistake," she said. "Two people who love one another, +and who are honest in their opinions, find happiness sooner or later if +they have the courage to seek for it. Don't you know," she continued, +after a moment's pause, "that—she understood? I always like to think +what I believe to be the truth. She went away to leave you free."</p> + +<p>Mannering rose to his feet and pointed to the clock.</p> + +<p>"It is time that you and I were in bed, Hester," he said. "Remember that +we have a busy morning."</p> + +<p>"It seems a pity," she murmured, as she wished him good-night. "A great +pity!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIIc" id="CHAPTER_IIIc"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>SUMMONED TO WINDSOR</h3> + + +<p>Berenice, who had just returned from making a call, was standing in the +hall, glancing through the cards displayed upon a small round table. The +major-domo of her household came hurrying out from his office.</p> + +<p>"There is a young lady, your Grace," he announced, "who has been waiting +to see you for half an hour. Her name is Miss Phillimore."</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" Berenice asked.</p> + +<p>"In the library, your Grace."</p> + +<p>"Show her into my own room," Berenice said, "I will see her at once."</p> + +<p>Hester was a little nervous, but Berenice set her immediately at her ease +by the graciousness of her manner. They talked for some time of Bonestre. +Then there was a moment's pause. Hester summoned up her courage.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," she said, "that you may consider what I am going to say +rather a liberty. I've thought it all out, and I decided to come to you. +I couldn't see any other way."</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"I will promise you," she said, "that I will consider it nothing of the +sort."</p> + +<p>"That is very kind of you," Hester said. "I have come here because Mr. +Mannering is the greatest friend I have in the world. He stands to me for +all the relatives most girls have, and I am very fond of him indeed. I +scarcely remember my father, but Mr. Mannering was always kind to me when +I was a child. You know, perhaps, that I am living with him now as his +secretary?"</p> + +<p>Berenice nodded pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"I see him every day," Hester continued, "and I notice things. He has +changed a great deal during the last few years. I am getting very anxious +about him."</p> + +<p>"He is not ill, I hope?" Berenice asked. "I too noticed a change. It +grieved me very much."</p> + +<p>"He is simply working himself to death," Hester continued, "without +relaxation or pleasure of any sort. And all the time he is unhappy. Other +men, however hard they work, have their hobbies and their occasional +holidays. He has neither. And I think that I know why. He fights all the +time to forget."</p> + +<p>"To forget what?" Berenice asked, slowly turning her head.</p> + +<p>"To forget how near he came once to being very happy," Hester answered, +boldly. "To forget—you!"</p> + +<p>Then her heart sang a little song of triumph, for she saw the instant +change in the still, cold face turned now a little away from her. She saw +the proud lips tremble and the unmistakable light leap out from the dark +eyes. She saw the colour rush into the cheeks, and she had no more fear. +She rose from her chair and dropped on one knee by Berenice's side.</p> + +<p>"Make him happy, please," she begged. "You can do it. You only! He loves +you!"</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled, although her eyes were wet with tears. She laid her +long, delicate fingers upon the other's hand.</p> + +<p>"But, my dear child," she protested, "what can I do? Mr. Mannering won't +come near me. He won't even write to me. I can't take him by storm, can +I?"</p> + +<p>"He is so foolish," Hester said, also smiling. "He will not understand +how unimportant all other things are when two people care for one +another. He talks about the difference in your politics, as though that +were sufficient to keep you apart!"</p> + +<p>Berenice was silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>"There was a time," she said, softly, "when I thought so, too."</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" Hester declared. "And he doesn't know, of course, that you +don't think so now."</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>"You must remember, dear," she said, "that Mr. Mannering and I are in +rather a peculiar position. My great-grandfather, my father and my uncle +were all Prime Ministers of England, and they were all staunch Liberals. +My family has always taken its politics very seriously indeed, and so +have I. It is not a little thing, this, after all."</p> + +<p>"But you will do it!" Hester exclaimed. "I am sure that you will."</p> + +<p>Berenice rose to her feet. A sense of excitement was suddenly quivering +in her veins, her heart was beating fiercely. After all, this child +was wise. She had been drifting into the dull, passionless life of a +middle-aged woman. All the joys of youth seemed suddenly to be sweeping +up from her heart, mocking the serenity of her days, these stagnant days, +sheltered from the great winds of life, where the waves were ripples and +the hours changeless. She raised her arms for a moment and dropped them +to her side.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do not know!" she cried. "It is such an upheaval. If he were +here—if he asked me himself. But he will never come now."</p> + +<p>"I believe that he would come to-morrow," Hester said, "if he were +sure—"</p> + +<p>Berenice laughed softly. There was colour in her cheeks as she turned to +Hester.</p> + +<p>"Tell him to come and have tea with me to-morrow afternoon," she said. "I +shall be quite alone."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Hester felt all her confidence slipping away from her. The echoes of her +breathless, passionate words had scarcely died away, and Mannering, to +all appearance, was unmoved. His still, cold face showed no signs of +agitation, his dark, beringed eyes were full of nothing but an intense +weariness.</p> + +<p>"Do I understand, Hester," he asked, "that you have been to see the +Duchess?—that you have spoken of these things to her?"</p> + +<p>Her heart sank. His tone was almost censorious. Nevertheless, she stood +her ground.</p> + +<p>"Yes! I have told you the truth. And I am glad that I went. You are very +clever people, both of you, but you are spoiling your lives for the sake +of a little common sense. It was necessary for some one to interfere."</p> + +<p>Mannering shook his head slowly.</p> + +<p>"You meant kindly, Hester," he said, "but it was a mistake. The time when +that might have been possible has gone by. Neither she nor I can call +back the hand of time. The last two years have made an old man of me. I +have no longer my enthusiasm. I am in the whirlpool, and I must fight my +way through to the end."</p> + +<p>She sat at his feet. He was still in the easy-chair into which he had +sunk on his first coming into the room. He had been speaking in the House +late, amidst all the excitement of a political crisis.</p> + +<p>"Why fight alone," she murmured, "when she is willing to come to you?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"There would be conditions," he said, "and she would not understand. I +may be in office in a month with most of her friends in opposition. The +situation would be impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" Hester declared. "The Duchess is too great a woman to lose so +utterly her sense of proportion. Don't you understand—that she loves +you?"</p> + +<p>Mannering laughed bitterly.</p> + +<p>"She must love a shadow, then!" he said, "for the man she knew does not +exist any longer. Poor little girl, are you disappointed?" he added, more +kindly. "I am sorry!"</p> + +<p>"I am disappointed to hear you talking like this," she declared. "I will +not believe that it is more than a mood. You are overtired, perhaps!"</p> + +<p>"Ay!" he said. "But I have been overtired for a long time. The strength +the gods give us lasts a weary while. You must send my excuses to the +Duchess, Hester. The fates are leading me another way."</p> + +<p>"I won't do it," she sobbed. "You shall be reasonable! I will make you +go!"</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"If you could," he murmured, "you might alter the writing on one little +page of history. We defeated the Government to-night badly, and I am +going to Windsor to-morrow afternoon."</p> + +<p>Hester rose to her feet and paced the room restlessly. Mannering had +spoken without exultation. His pallid face seemed to her to have grown +thin and hard. He saw himself the possible Prime Minister of the morrow +without the slightest suggestion of any sort of gratified ambition.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether to say that I am glad or not," Hester declared, +stopping once more by his side. "If you are going to shut yourself off +from everything else in life which makes for happiness, to forget that +you are a man, and turn yourself into a law-making machine, well, then, +I am sorry. I think that your success will be a curse to you. I think +that you will live to regret it."</p> + +<p>Mannering looked at her for a moment with a gleam of his old self shining +out of his eyes. A sudden pathos, a wave of self-pity had softened his +face.</p> + +<p>"Dear child!" he said, gravely, "I cannot make you understand. I carry +a burden from which no one can free me. For good or for evil the powers +that be have set my feet in the path of the climbers, and for the sake of +those whose sufferings I have seen I must struggle upwards to the end. +Berenice and the Duchess of Lenchester are two very different persons. I +cannot take one into my life without the other. It is because I love her, +Hester, that I let her go. Good-night, child!"</p> + +<p>She kissed his hand and went slowly to her room, stumbling upstairs +through a mist of tears. There was nothing more that she could do.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IVc" id="CHAPTER_IVc"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>CHECKMATE TO BORROWDEAN</h3> + + +<p>Mannering's town house, none too large at any time, was transformed into +a little hive of industry. Two hurriedly appointed secretaries were at +work in the dining-room, and Hester was busy typing in her own little +sanctum.</p> + +<p>Mannering sat in his study before a table covered with papers, and for +the first time during the day was alone for a few moments.</p> + +<p>His servant brought in a card. Mannering glanced at it and frowned.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman said that he would not keep you for more than a moment, +sir," the servant announced quietly, mindful of the half-sovereign which +had been slipped into his hand.</p> + +<p>Mannering still looked at the card doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You can show him up," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir!"</p> + +<p>The man withdrew, and reappeared to usher in Sir Leslie Borrowdean. +Mannering greeted him without offering his hand.</p> + +<p>"You wished to see me, Sir Leslie?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean came slowly into the room. He closed the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"I hope," he said, "that you will not consider my presence an intrusion!"</p> + +<p>"You have business with me, I presume," Mannering answered, coldly. "Pray +sit down."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean ignored the chair, towards which Mannering had motioned. He +came and stood by the side of the table.</p> + +<p>"Unless your memory, Mannering," he said, with a hard little laugh, "is +as short as the proverbial politician's, you can scarcely be surprised at +my visit."</p> + +<p>Mannering raised his eyebrows, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I must confess," Borrowdean continued, "that I scarcely expected to find +it necessary for me to come here and remind you that it was I who am +responsible for your reappearance in politics."</p> + +<p>"I am not likely," Mannering said, slowly, "to forget your good offices +in that respect."</p> + +<p>"I felt sure that you would not," Borrowdean answered. "Yet you must not +altogether blame me for my coming! I understand that the list of your +proposed Cabinet is to be completed to-morrow afternoon, and as yet I +have heard nothing from you."</p> + +<p>"Your information," Mannering said, "is quite correct. In fact, my list +is complete already. If your visit here is one of curiosity, I have no +objection to gratify it. Here is a list of the names I have selected."</p> + +<p>He handed a sheet of paper to Borrowdean, who glanced it eagerly down. +Afterwards he looked up and met Mannering's calm gaze. There was an +absolute silence for several seconds.</p> + +<p>"My name," Borrowdean said, hoarsely, "is not amongst these!"</p> + +<p>"It really never occurred to me for a single second to place it there," +Mannering answered.</p> + +<p>Borrowdean drew a little breath. He was deathly pale.</p> + +<p>"You include Redford," he said. "He is a more violent partizan than I +have ever been. I have heard you say a dozen times that you disapprove of +turning a man out of office directly he has got into the swing of it. Has +any one any fault to find with me? I have done my duty, and done it +thoroughly. I don't know what your programme may be, but if Redford can +accept it I am sure that I can."</p> + +<p>"Possibly," Mannering answered. "I have this peculiarity, though. Call it +a whim, if you like. I desire to see my Cabinet composed of honourable +men."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean started back as though he had received a blow.</p> + +<p>"Am I to accept that as a statement of your opinion of me?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"It seems fairly obvious," Mannering answered, "that such was my +intention."</p> + +<p>"You owe your place in public life to me," Borrowdean exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"If I do," Mannering answered, "do you imagine that I consider myself +your debtor? I tell you that to-day, at this moment, I have no political +ambitions. Before you appeared at Blakely and commenced your underhand +scheming, I was a contented, almost a happy man. You imagined that my +reappearance in political life would be beneficial to you, and with that +in view, and that only, you set yourself to get me back. You succeeded! +We won't say how! If you are disappointed with the result what concern +is that of mine? You have called yourself my friend. I have not for some +time considered you as such. I owe you nothing. I have no feeling for +you save one of contempt. To me you figure as the modern political +adventurer, living on his wits and the credulity of other people. Better +see how it will pay you in opposition."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean, a cold-blooded and calculating man, knew for the first time +in his life what it was to let his passions govern him. Every word which +this man had spoken was truth, and therefore all the more bitter to hear. +He saw himself beaten and humiliated, outwitted by the man whom he had +sought to make his tool. A slow paroxysm of anger held him rigid. He was +white to the lips. His nerves and senses were all tingling. There was red +fire before his eyes.</p> + +<p>"If your business with me is ended," Mannering said, waving his hand +towards the door, "you will forgive me if I remind you that I am much +occupied."</p> + +<p>Borrowdean snatched up the square glass paper cutter from the table, and +without a second's warning he struck Mannering with it full upon the +temple.</p> + +<p>"Damn you!" he said.</p> + +<p>Mannering tried to struggle to his feet, but collapsed, and fell upon the +floor. Borrowdean kicked his prostrate body.</p> + +<p>"Now go and form your Cabinet," he muttered. "May you wake in hell!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Borrowdean, who left the study a madman, was a sane person the moment +he began to descend the stairs and found himself face to face with a +tall, heavily cloaked woman. The flash of familiar jewels in her hair, +something, perhaps, in the quiet stateliness of her movements, betrayed +her identity to him. His heart gave a quick jump. A sickening fear stole +over him. He barred the way.</p> + +<p>"Duchess!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She waved him aside with an impatient gesture. He could see the frown +gathering upon her face.</p> + +<p>"Sir Leslie!" she replied. "Please let me pass! I want to see Mr. +Mannering before any one else goes up!"</p> + +<p>Sir Leslie drew immediately to one side.</p> + +<p>"Pray do not let me detain you," he said, coolly. "Between ourselves, I +do not think that Mannering is in a fit state to see anybody. I have not +been able to get a coherent word out of him. He walks all the time +backwards and forwards like a man demented."</p> + +<p>Berenice smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>"You are annoyed," she declared, "because you will be in opposition once +more!"</p> + +<p>"If I go into opposition again," Borrowdean answered, "it will be my own +choice. Mannering has asked me to join his Cabinet."</p> + +<p>Berenice raised her eyebrows. Her surprise was genuine.</p> + +<p>"You amaze me!" she declared.</p> + +<p>"I was amazed myself," he answered.</p> + +<p>She passed on her way, and Borrowdean descending, took a cab quietly +home. Berenice, with her hand upon the door, hesitated. Hester had +purposely sent her up alone. They had waited until they had heard +Borrowdean leave the room. And now at the last moment she hesitated. She +was a proud woman. She was departing now, for his sake, from the +conventions of a lifetime. He had declined to come to her; no matter, she +had come to him instead. Suppose—he should not be glad? Suppose she +should fail to see in his face her justification? It was very quiet in +the room. She could not even hear the scratching of his pen. Twice her +fingers closed upon the knob of the door, and twice she hesitated. If it +had not been for facing Hester below she would probably have gone +silently away.</p> + +<p>And then—she heard a sound. It was not at all the sort of sound for +which she had been listening, but it brought her hesitation to a sudden +end. She threw open the door, and a little cry of amazement broke from +her trembling lips. It was indeed a groan which she had heard. Mannering +was stretched upon the floor, his eyes half closed, his face ghastly +white. For a moment she stood motionless, a whole torrent of arrested +speech upon her quivering lips. Then she dropped on her knees by his side +and lifted his cold hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my love!" she murmured. "My love!"</p> + +<p>But he made no sign. Then she stood up, and her cry of horror rang +through the house.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Vc" id="CHAPTER_Vc"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>A BRAZEN PROCEEDING</h3> + + +<p>Mannering opened his eyes lazily. His companion had stopped suddenly in +his reading. He appeared to be examining a certain paragraph in the paper +with much interest. Mannering stretched out his hand for a match, and +relit his cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Read it out, Richard," he said. "Don't mind me."</p> + +<p>The young man started slightly.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, sir," he said. "I thought that you were asleep!"</p> + +<p>Mannering smiled.</p> + +<p>"What about the paragraph?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It is just this," Richard answered, reading. "'The Duchess of Lenchester +and Miss Clara Mannering have arrived at Claridge's from the South of +Italy.'"</p> + +<p>Mannering looked at him keenly.</p> + +<p>"I am curious to know which part of that announcement you find so +interesting," he said.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not the latter part, sir," the young man answered. "I thought +perhaps you would have noticed—I meant to speak to you as soon as you +were a little stronger—I have asked Hester to be my wife!"</p> + +<p>"Then all I can say," Mannering declared, gravely, "is, that you are a +remarkably sensible young man. I am quite strong enough to bear a shock +of that sort."</p> + +<p>"I'm very glad to hear you say so, sir," Richard said. "Of course I +shouldn't think of taking her away until you were quite yourself again."</p> + +<p>"The cheek of the young man!" Mannering murmured. "She wouldn't go!"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she would," Richard laughed. "Of course we consider that +you are very nearly well now."</p> + +<p>"You can consider what you like," Mannering answered, "but I shall remain +an invalid as long as it pleases me."</p> + +<p>Hester appeared on the upper lawn, and Richard rose up at once.</p> + +<p>"If you don't mind, sir," he said, "I think that I should like to go and +tell Hester that I have spoken to you."</p> + +<p>Mannering nodded. He watched the two young people stroll off together +towards the rose-garden, talking earnestly. He heard the little iron gate +open and close. He watched them disappear behind the hedge of laurels. A +puff of breeze brought the faint odour of roses to him, and with it a +sudden host of memories. His eyes grew wistful. He felt something tugging +at his heartstrings. Only a few years ago life here had seemed so +wonderful a thing—only a few years, but with all the passions and +struggles of a lifetime crowded into them. The maelstrom was there still, +but he himself had crept out of it. What was there left? Peace, haunted +with memories, rest, troubled by desire. He heard the sound of their +voices in the rose-garden, and he turned away with a pain in his heart of +which he was ashamed. These things were for the young! If youth had +passed him by, still there were compensations!</p> + +<p>Compensations, aye—but he wanted none of them! He picked up the +newspaper, and with a little difficulty, for his sight was not yet good, +found a certain paragraph. Then the paper slipped again from his fingers, +and he heard the sweeping of a woman's dress across the smooth-shaven +lawn. He gripped the sides of his chair and set his teeth hard. He +struggled to rise, but she moved swiftly up to him with a gesture of +remonstrance.</p> + +<p>"Please don't move," she exclaimed, as though her coming were the most +natural thing in the world. "I am going to sit down with you, if I may!"</p> + +<p>He murmured an expression of conventional delight. She wore a dress of +some soft white material, and her figure was as wonderful as ever. He +recovered himself almost at once and studied her admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Paris?" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Paquin!" she answered. "I remembered that you liked me in white."</p> + +<p>"But where on earth have you come from?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The Farm," she answered. "I'm going to take it for three months—if +you're decent to me!"</p> + +<p>"That rascal Richard!" he muttered. "Never told me a word! Pretended to +be surprised when he heard you and Clara were back."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"Clara is going to marry that Frenchman next month," she said, "and I +shall be looking for another companion. Do you know of one?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't another niece," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Even if you had," she said, "I have come to the conclusion that I want +something different. Will you listen to me patiently for a moment?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Will you marry me, please?" she said. "No, don't interrupt. I want there +to be no misunderstandings this time. I don't care whether you are an +invalid or not. I don't care whether you are going back into politics or +not. I don't care whether we live here or in any other corner of the +world. You can call yourself anything, from an anarchist to a Tory—or be +anything. You can have all your workingmen here to dinner in flannel +shirts, if you like, and I'll play bowls with their wives on the lawn. +Nothing matters but this one thing, Lawrence. Will you marry me—and try +to care a little?"</p> + +<p>"This is absolutely," Mannering declared, taking her into his arms, "the +most brazen proceeding!"</p> + +<p>"It's a good deal better than the bungle we made of it before," she +murmured.</p> + + +<p>THE END</p> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="E_Phillips_Oppenheims_Novels" id="E_Phillips_Oppenheims_Novels"></a>E. Phillips Oppenheim's Novels</h2> + + +<p>A PRINCE OF SINNERS</p> + +<p>Thoroughly matured, brilliantly constructed, and convincingly +told.—<i>London Times</i>.</p> + +<p>It is rare that so much knowledge of the world, taken as a whole, is +set between two covers of a novel.—<i>Chicago Daily News</i>.</p> + + +<p>ANNA THE ADVENTURESS</p> + +<p>A story of London life that is at once unusual, original, consistent, +and delightful.—<i>Buffalo Express</i>.</p> + +<p>An entrancing story which has seldom been surpassed as a study of +feminine character and sentiment.—<i>Outlook</i>, London.</p> + + +<p>ENOCH STRONE</p> + +<p>In no other novel has Mr. Oppenheim created such life-like characters +or handled his plot with such admirable force and restraint as in this +capital story of the career of masterful Enoch Strone.</p> + + +<p>A SLEEPING MEMORY</p> + +<p>A story in occultism, but with all its mysticism and its dealings with +the unknowable the book is never dull, the thread of the human story +in it is never lost sight of for a moment.—<i>Boston Transcript</i>.</p> + + +<p>MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN</p> + +<p>Emphatically a good story—strong, bold, original, and admirably +told.—<i>Literature</i>, London.</p> + +<p>Intensely readable for the dramatic force with which the story is +told, the absolute originality of the underlying creative thought, and +the strength of all the men and women who fill the pages.—<i>Pittsburgh +Times</i>.</p> + + +<p>THE YELLOW CRAYON</p> + +<p><i>Containing the Further Adventures of "Mysterious +Mr. Sabin"</i></p> + +<p>The efforts of Mr. Sabin, one of Mr. Oppenheim's most fascinating +characters, to free his wife from an entanglement with the Order of +the Yellow Crayon, give the author one of his most complicated and +absorbing plots. A number of the characters of "Mysterious Mr. +Sabin" figure in this delightful work.</p> + + +<p>THE TRAITORS</p> + +<p>A brilliant and engrossing story of love and adventure and Russian +political intrigue. A revolution, the recall of an exiled king, the +defence of his dominion against Turkish aggression, furnish a series +of exciting pictures and dramatic situations.</p> + + +<p>THE BETRAYAL</p> + +<p>In none of Mr. Oppenheim's fascinating and absorbing books has +he better illustrated his remarkable faculty for holding the reader's +interest to the end than in "The Betrayal." The efforts of the +French Secret Service to obtain important papers relating to the +Coast Defence of England are the <i>motif</i> of its remarkable plot.</p> + + +<p>A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY</p> + +<p>Mr. Oppenheim has never written a better story than "A Millionaire +of Yesterday." He grips the reader's attention at the start by +his vivid picture of the two men in the West African bush making a +grim fight for life and fortune, and he holds it to the finish. The +volume is thrilling throughout, while the style is excellent.</p> + + +<p>THE MAN AND HIS KINGDOM</p> + +<p>This brilliant, nervous, and intensely dramatic tale of love, intrigue, +and revolution in a South American State is so human and life-like +that the reader is bewildered by the writer's evident daring, and his +equal fidelity to things as they are.</p> + + +<p>THE LOST LEADER</p> + +<p>As fascinating a story of modern life as a novelist has yet conceived +and one that arrests the mind by its fine strenuousness of purpose.</p> + + +<p>THE MALEFACTOR</p> + +<p>This amazing story of the strange revenge of Sir Wingrave Seton, +who suffered imprisonment for a crime he did not commit rather than +defend himself at a woman's expense, "will make the most languid +alive with expectant interest," says the <i>Chicago Record-Herald</i>.</p> + + +<p>A MAKER OF HISTORY</p> + +<p>A story of absorbing interest turning on a complicated plot worked +out with dexterous craftsmanship. A capital yarn of European secret +service.—<i>Literary Digest</i>.</p> + + +<p>THE MASTER MUMMER</p> + +<p>Will be found of absorbing interest to those who love a story of +action and romance.—<i>Academy</i>, London.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LOST LEADER***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 17063-h.txt or 17063-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/6/17063">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/0/6/17063</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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