initial commit of ebook 27323HEADmain

322 files changed, 24817 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/27323-8.txt b/27323-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3231269
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8139 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Bird of Paradise, by Ada Leverson
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Bird of Paradise
+
+
+Author: Ada Leverson
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 24, 2008  [eBook #27323]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIRD OF PARADISE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+BIRD OF PARADISE
+
+by
+
+ADA LEVERSON
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Grant Richards Ltd. 1914
+
+
+
+
+TO ERNEST
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+    Chapter                                         Page
+
+        I EXCUSES                                      9
+
+       II LADY KELLYNCH                               25
+
+      III NIGEL                                       38
+
+       IV RUPERT AT RUMPELMEYER'S                     49
+
+        V A HAPPY HOME                                63
+
+       VI FUTURISM                                    77
+
+      VII RUSSIAN BALLET                              90
+
+     VIII PERCY                                       95
+
+       IX AN ANONYMOUS LETTER                        110
+
+        X MASTER CLIFFORD KELLYNCH                   120
+
+        XI A DISCOVERY                               129
+
+       XII A LOVE SCENE                              142
+
+      XIII RECONCILIATION                            150
+
+       XIV "TANGO"                                   155
+
+        XV CLIFFORD'S HISTORICAL PLAY                163
+
+       XVI A SECOND PROPOSAL                         167
+
+      XVII MORE ABOUT RUPERT                         172
+
+     XVIII "A SPECIAL FAVOUR"                        177
+
+       XIX A DEVOTED WIFE                            184
+
+        XX RUPERT AGAIN                              192
+
+       XXI THE HILLIERS' ENTERTAINMENT               196
+
+      XXII BERTHA AT HOME                            202
+
+     XXIII NIGEL'S LETTER                            205
+
+      XXIV LADY KELLYNCH AT HOME                     210
+
+       XXV MRS. PICKERING                            219
+
+      XXVI NEWS FROM VENICE                          227
+
+     XXVII ANOTHER ANONYMOUS LETTER                  232
+
+    XXVIII AN INTERVIEW                              237
+
+      XXIX NIGEL AND MARY                            245
+
+       XXX MISS BELVOIR                              256
+
+      XXXI MARY'S PLAN                               263
+
+     XXXII PRIVATE FIREWORKS AT THE PICKERINGS'      267
+
+    XXXIII NIGEL ABROAD                              284
+
+     XXXIV MOONA                                     289
+
+      XXXV TWO WOMEN                                 300
+
+     XXXVI PLAIN SAILING                             313
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+EXCUSES
+
+
+Poor Madeline came into the room a little flustered and hustled, with
+papers in her muff. She found Bertha looking lovely and serene as usual.
+
+Madeline Irwin was a modern-looking girl of twenty-three; tall, thin,
+smart and just the right shape; not pretty, but very sympathetic, with
+thick dark hair and strongly marked eyebrows, a rather long and narrow
+face, delicately modelled, a clear white complexion, and soft, sincere
+brown eyes.
+
+Bertha--Mrs. Percy Kellynch--was known as a beauty. She was indeed
+improbably pretty, small, plump and very fair, with soft golden hair
+that was silky and yet fluffy, perfectly regular little features, and a
+kind of infantine sweetness, combined with an almost incredible
+cleverness that was curious and fascinating. She was of a type remote
+equally from the fashion-plate and the suffragette, and was so
+physically attractive that one could hardly be near her without longing
+to put out a finger and touch her soft, fair face or her soft hair; as
+one would like to touch a kitten or a pretty child. And yet one felt
+that it would not be an entirely safe thing to do; like the child or the
+kitten she might scratch or run away. But it is probable that a large
+average of her acquaintance had been weak enough--or strong enough--to
+give way to the temptation and take the risk.
+
+This charming little creature sat in a room furnished in clear, pale
+colours--that was pink, white and blonde like herself. Madeline sat down
+without greeting her, saying in a scolding voice, as she rustled a
+letter:
+
+"He's refused again ... more excuses ... always, always excuses!"
+
+"Well, all the better; excuses are a form of compliment. I'd far rather
+have a lot of apology and attenuation than utter coolness," said Bertha
+consolingly. She had a low, even voice, and rarely made a gesture. Her
+animation was all in her eyes. They were long, bluish-grey, with dark
+lashes, and very expressive.
+
+"Oh, you'd _like_ a man to write and say that he couldn't come to dinner
+because it was his mother's birthday, and he always dined with her on
+that occasion, and besides he was in deep mourning, and had influenza,
+and was going to the first night at the St. James's, and was expecting
+some old friends up from the country to stay with him, and would be out
+of town shooting at the time?"
+
+"Certainly; so much inventive ingenuity is most flattering. Don't you
+think it's better than to say on the telephone that he wouldn't be able
+to come that evening as he wouldn't be able to; and then ring off?" said
+Bertha.
+
+"Rupert would never do that! He's intensely polite; politeness is
+ingrained in his nature. I'm rather hopeless about it all; and yet when
+I think how sometimes when I speak to him and he doesn't answer but
+gives that slight smile ..."
+
+"How well I know that slight, superior smile--discouraging yet spurring
+you on to further efforts! ... Rupert--Rupert! What a name! How can
+people be called Rupert? It isn't done, you're not living in a
+_feuilleton_, you must change the man's name, dear."
+
+"Indeed I sha'n't! Nonsense; it's a beautiful name! Rupert Denison! It
+suits him; it suits me. Bertha, you can't deny it's a handsome, noble
+face, like a Vandyke portrait of Charles I, or one of those people in
+the National Gallery. And he must take a certain amount of interest in
+me, because he wants me to learn more, to be more cultured. He's so
+accomplished! He knows simply everything. The other day he sent me a
+book about the early Italian masters."
+
+"Did he, though? How jolly!"
+
+"A little volume of Browning, too--that tiny edition, beautifully
+bound."
+
+Bertha made an inarticulate sound.
+
+"And you know he found out my birthday, and sent me a few dark red roses
+and Ruskin's Stones of Venice."
+
+"Nothing like being up to date," said Bertha. "Right up to the day after
+to-morrow! Rupert always is. How did he find out your birthday?"
+
+"How do you suppose?"
+
+"I can't think. By looking in _Who's Who?_--going to Somerset House or
+the British Museum?"
+
+"How unkind you are! Of course not. No--I told him."
+
+"Ah, I thought perhaps it was some ingenious plan like that. I should
+think that's the way he usually finds out things--by being told."
+
+"Bertha, why do you sneer at him?"
+
+"Did I?--I didn't mean to. Why does he behave like a belated
+schoolmaster?"
+
+"Behave like a--oh, Bertha!"
+
+Madeline was trying to be offended, but she could not succeed. It was
+nearly impossible to be angry with Bertha, when she was present. There
+were many reasons for this. Bertha had a small arched mouth, teeth that
+were tiny and white and marvellously regular, a dimple in her left
+cheek, long eyelashes that gave a veiled look to the eyes, and a
+generally very live-wax-dollish appearance which was exceedingly
+disarming. There was a touch, too, of the china shepherdess about her.
+But, of course, she was not really like a doll, nor remote from life;
+she was very real, living and animated; though she had for the
+connoisseur all the charm of an exquisite _bibelot_ that is not for
+sale.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha was twenty-eight, but looked younger than her age. Madeline might
+have been her senior. Under this peachlike appearance, and with the
+premeditated _naïveté_ of her manner, she was always astonishing people
+by her penetration and general ingenuity; she was at once very quick and
+very deep--quick especially to perceive and enjoy incongruities, and
+deep in understanding them; extremely observant, and not in the least
+superficial. Almost her greatest interest was the study of character;
+she had an intellectual passion for going below the surface, and finding
+out the little _coins inédits_ of the soul. She was rather unpractical,
+but only in execution, and she had the gift of getting the practical
+side of life well done for her, not letting it be neglected. Her
+bonbonnière of a drawing-room seemed to be different from ordinary
+rooms, though one hardly knew in what; partly from the absence of
+superfluities; and somehow after many a triumph over the bewilderment of
+a sulky yet dazzled decorator, Bertha had contrived, in baffling him, to
+make the house look distinguished without being unconventional; dainty
+without being artificial; she had made it suit her perfectly and, what
+was more, the atmosphere was reposeful. Her husband always besought her
+to do anything on earth she wished in her own home, rather in the same
+way that one would give an intelligent canary _carte blanche_ about the
+decoration of what was supposed to be its cage.
+
+Percy Kellynch, the husband--he was spoken of as the husband (people
+said: "Is that the husband?" or "What's the husband like?")--was a
+rather serious-looking barrister with parliamentary ambitions, two mild
+hobbies (which took the form of Tschaikowsky at the Queen's Hall and
+squash rackets at the Bath Club), a fine forehead, behind which there
+was less doing than one would suppose, polished manners, an amiable
+disposition and private means.
+
+For Madeline's sake, Bertha was interested in Rupert Denison, and
+determined to understand him. When she reached bedrock in her friends,
+it was not unusual for her to grow tired of them. But she was gentle and
+considerate even to the people who left her cold; and when she really
+cared for anyone, she was loyal, passionate and extraordinarily
+tenacious.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"A schoolmaster!" repeated Madeline rather dismally. "Well! perhaps
+there may be just a touch of that in Rupert. When I'm going to see him I
+do feel rather nervous and a little as if I was going up for an exam."
+
+"Well, let's say a holiday tutor," conceded Bertha. "He _is_ so
+educational!"
+
+"At any rate, he bothers about what I ought and oughtn't to know; he
+pays me _some_ attention!"
+
+"The only modern thing about him is his paying you so little," said
+Bertha. "And, Madeline, we mustn't forget that young men are very
+difficult to get hold of nowadays--for girls. Everyone complains of it.
+Formerly they wouldn't dance, but they'd do everything else. Now,
+dancing's the only thing they will do. People are always making bitter
+remarks to me about it. There's not the slightest doubt that, except for
+dancing, young men just now, somehow or other, are scarce, wild and
+shy. And the funny thing is that they'll two-step and one-step and
+double-Boston and Tango the whole evening, but that's practically all.
+Oh, they're most unsatisfactory! Lots of girls have told me so. And as
+to proposals! Why, they're the _rarest_ thing! Even when the modern
+young man is devoted you can't be sure of serious intentions, except, of
+course, in the Royal Family, or at the Gaiety."
+
+"Well, _I_ don't care! I'm sure I don't want all these silly dancing
+young men. They bore me to death. Give me _culture_! and all that sort
+of thing. Only--only Rupert! ... Very often after he's refused an
+invitation, like this of mother's, he'll write and ask me to have tea
+with him at Rumpelmeyer's, or somewhere; and then he'll talk and talk
+the whole time about ... oh, any general instructive subject."
+
+"For instance?"
+
+"Oh ... architecture!"
+
+"How inspiriting!"
+
+"But does it all mean anything, Bertha?"
+
+"I almost think it must," she answered dreamily. "No man could take a
+girl out to eat ices and talk of the cathedral at Rouen, or discuss
+Pointed Gothic and Norman arches over tea and bread and butter, without
+_some_ intentions. It wouldn't be human."
+
+"It's quite true he always seems to take a good deal for granted,"
+remarked Madeline.
+
+"But not enough."
+
+"Exactly!"
+
+"Rupert would make a very good husband--if you could stand him," said
+Bertha meditatively; "he's one of those thoroughly well-informed people
+who never know what is going on."
+
+"If I could _stand_ him! Why, Bertha! I'd work my fingers to the bone,
+and lay down my life for him!"
+
+"He doesn't want your life, and, probably, not bony fingers either, but
+he'll want incense swung, _all_ the time, remember; and always in front
+of him only. He won't be half as good-natured and indulgent as Percy."
+
+"Of course, Percy's very sweet, and kind and clever, and devoted to
+you," said Madeline, "but I always feel that it would have been more
+your ideal to have married your first love, Nigel; and far more
+romantic, too. He's so good-looking and amusing, and how delightfully he
+sings Debussy!"
+
+"Nigel! Oh, nonsense. There's no one more really prosaic. Debussy,
+indeed! I met him with his wife the other night at the opera and he
+introduced us. My dear, she's got flat red hair, an aigrette, a
+turned-up nose, a receding chin and long ear-rings; and she's quite
+young and very dowdy: the sort of dowdiness that's rather smart. She
+loathed me--that is to say, we took a mutual dislike, and a
+determination never to meet again, so strong that it amounted to a kind
+of friendship; we tacitly agreed to keep out of each other's way. I
+suppose there's such a thing as a sort of comradeship in aversion,"
+Bertha added thoughtfully.
+
+"Oh, Bertha, fancy anybody disliking you!"
+
+"It's only because Nigel had told her, _in camera_, that he was in love
+with me once, and that we were almost engaged."
+
+"Did he say who broke it off?"
+
+"Yes, I should think he told the truth--that he did--but he didn't
+mention the real reasons, that he was horribly hard up and saw a chance
+of marrying an heiress. I daresay, too, that he said no other woman
+would ever be quite the same to him again, for fear Mrs. Nigel should be
+too pleased. Nigel is nice and amusing and he's sometimes very useful.
+He thinks he treated me badly, and really has got to appreciate me
+since, and as he knows I'm utterly indifferent to him now, he's devoted,
+I mean as a friend--he'll do anything on earth for me. He has absolutely
+nothing to do, you see; it's a kindness to employ him."
+
+"What do you give him to do?"
+
+"It depends. This time I've told him to get hold of Rupert and ask us
+all three--I mean you, and me and Rupert--to dine and go to some play.
+It would be so much less ceremonious than asking Rupert here, with
+Percy."
+
+"Oh, darling Bertha, you're an angel! I always said Nigel was charming.
+What about Mrs. Nigel, and Percy?"
+
+"Don't worry; that shall be arranged. Their rights shall not be ignored,
+nor their interests neglected! Percy's little finger is worth all Nigel.
+Still, Nigel has his good points; he might help us in this. There are so
+many things he can do, he's so _fin_--and adaptable, and diplomatic.
+That young brother of his, Charlie, is in love with you, Madeline. Now,
+he's a boy who _could_ marry, and who wants to. If you gave him only a
+look of encouragement he would propose at once. And he has a good deal
+of Nigel's charm, though he's not so clever, but he's very much
+steadier. Really, it's a pity you don't like him. I'm sorry."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't," said Madeline.
+
+"He's quite a nice boy, too; and I know how much he likes you, from
+Nigel."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't!" Madeline repeated, shaking her head.
+
+Bertha seemed silently to assent.
+
+"And will dear Nigel ask me all the same to meet Rupert, Bertha?"
+
+"Oh yes; we'll arrange it to-day. Nigel's delightfully prompt, and never
+delays anything."
+
+"And what will happen to Percy? You scarcely ever go out without him."
+
+"Oh, I can persuade Percy, for once, that he wants his mother to go with
+him to the Queen's Hall. And I'll make Lady Kellynch think it's rather a
+shame of her to take my place; then she'll enjoy it. We'll arrange it
+for next week. I'm expecting her this afternoon."
+
+"Oh, are you? I'm always rather afraid she doesn't like me," said
+Madeline pensively.
+
+"She doesn't _dis_like you. She doesn't dislike anybody; only, simply,
+you don't exist for her. My mother-in-law really believes that the whole
+of humanity consists of her own family; first, her late husband; then
+Percy, then Clifford, the boy at school, and, in a very slight degree,
+me too, because I'm married to Percy. I do like Clifford, though he's a
+spoilt boy, and selfish. But he's great fun. How his mother adores him!
+I hope she won't stay long to-day--Nigel will be here at six."
+
+Madeline fell into a reverie, a sort of mental swoon. Then she suddenly
+woke up and said with great animation,--
+
+"No, I suppose I dare not hope it!--I believe I should expire with
+joy!--but he _never_ will! But if he _did_ propose, how do you suppose
+he'd do it, Bertha?"
+
+"Heaven knows--quote Browning, I suppose," said Bertha, "I don't often
+meet that type. I can only guess. Do you care so much, Madeline?"
+
+"_Do_ I care!"
+
+"And you believe it's the real thing?"
+
+"I know it is--on my side; it's incurable."
+
+"Everyone says Rupert's a good fellow, but he seems to me a little--what
+shall I say?--too elaborate. Too urbane; too ornate. He expresses
+himself so dreadfully well! I don't believe he ever uses a shorter word
+than _individuality_!"
+
+"Oh, I don't care what he is, I want him--I want him!" cried Madeline.
+
+"Well! I suppose you know what you want. It isn't as though you were
+always in love with somebody or other; as a rule, a girl of your age, if
+she can't have the person she wants, can be very quickly consoled if you
+give her someone else instead. Now, you've never had even a fancy
+before. _I_ may not (I don't) see the charm of Rupert, but it must be
+there; probably there's something in his temperament that's needed by
+yours--something that he can supply to you that no one else can. If you
+really want him, you must have him, darling," said Bertha, with
+resolution. "You shall!"
+
+"How can you say that; how can you make him care for me if he doesn't?"
+
+"I don't know, but I shall. It's certain; don't worry; and do what I
+tell you. Mind, I think that there are many other people far more
+amusing, besides being better matches from the worldly point of
+view--like Charlie Hillier, for instance--but the great thing is that
+you care for your Rupert; and I don't believe you'll change."
+
+They were never demonstrative to each other, and Madeline only looked at
+her with trusting, beaming gratitude. Bertha was indeed convinced that
+this mania for Rupert was the real thing; it would never fade from
+fulfilment, nor even die if discouraged; it would always burn
+unalterably bright.
+
+"Yes; yes, it shall be all right," repeated Bertha.
+
+She spoke in a curious, reassuring tone that Madeline knew, and that
+always impressed her.
+
+"Really? Yet you say they are so difficult nowadays!"
+
+"Well, the majority of the men in our set certainly don't seem to be
+exactly pining for hearth and home. Still, in some moods a man will
+marry anyone who happens to be there."
+
+"Then must I happen to be there? How can I?"
+
+Bertha laughed. There was a confidence without reservation between them,
+notwithstanding a slight tinge of the histrionic in Madeline, which
+occasionally irritated Bertha. But the real link was that they both
+instinctively threw overboard all but the essential; they cared
+comparatively little for most of the preoccupations and smaller
+solicitudes of the women in their own leisured class. There was in
+neither of them anything of the social snob or the narrow outlook of the
+bourgeoise; they were free from pose, petty ambitions, or trivial
+affectations.
+
+Madeline looked up to Bertha as a wonderful combination of kindness,
+cleverness, beauty and knowledge of the world. Bertha felt that Madeline
+was not quite so well equipped for dealing with life as she herself was;
+there was a shade of protection in her friendship.
+
+Bertha was far more daring than Madeline, but her occasional recklessness
+was only pluck and love of adventure; not imprudence; it was always
+guided by reason and an instinctive sense of self-preservation. She
+was a little experimental, that was all. Madeline was more timid and
+sensitive; though not nearly so quick to see things as Bertha she took
+them to heart more, far more;--was far less lively and ironical.
+
+"Though I find Rupert dull, as I say, I believe he's as good as gold, or
+I wouldn't try and help you. Now if he were a man like Nigel!--who's
+very much more fascinating and charming--I wouldn't raise a finger,
+because I know he's fickle, dangerous and selfish, and wouldn't make you
+happy. Charlie would, though; I wish you liked Charlie. But one can't
+account for these things."
+
+"Quite impossible," Madeline said, shaking her head.
+
+"Well! It's quite possible that Rupert would suit you best; and I
+believe if you once got him he'd be all right. And you shall!" she
+repeated.
+
+"_Thank_ you!" said Madeline fervently, as if Bertha had promised her a
+box of chocolates or a present of some kind.
+
+"Lady Kellynch!" announced the servant.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+LADY KELLYNCH
+
+
+A tall, stately, handsome woman, slow and quiet in movement, dressed in
+velvet and furs, came deliberately into the room. The magnificent,
+imposing Lady Kellynch had that quiet dignity and natural ease and
+distinction sometimes seen in the widow of a knight, but unknown amongst
+the old aristocracy. It was generally supposed, or, at all events,
+stated, that the late Sir Percy Kellynch had been knighted by mistake
+for somebody else; through a muddle owing to somebody's deafness. The
+result was the same, since his demise left her with a handle to her
+name, but no one to turn it (to quote the _mot_ of a well-known wit),
+and she looked, at the very least, like a peeress in her own right.
+Indeed, she was the incarnation of what the romantic lower middle
+classes imagine a great lady;--a dressmaker's ideal of a duchess. She
+had the same high forehead, without much thought behind it, so
+noticeable in her son Percy, and the same clearly cut features; and it
+was true, as Bertha had said, that she firmly believed the whole of the
+world, of the slightest importance, consisted of her late husband,
+herself, her married son Percy, and her boy Clifford at school; the rest
+of the universe was merely an audience, or a background, for this unique
+family.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+If anyone spoke of a European crisis that was interesting the general
+public, she would reply by saying what Percy thought about it; if a more
+frivolous subject (such as _You Shut Up_, or some other popular Revue)
+was mentioned, she would answer, reassuringly, that she knew Clifford
+had a picture post-card of one of the performers, implying thereby that
+it _must_ be all right. She loved Bertha mildly, and with reservations,
+because Percy loved her, and because Bertha wished her to; but she
+really thought it would have been more suitable if Bertha had been a
+little more colourless, a little plainer, a little stupider and more
+ordinary; not that her attractions would ever cause any trouble to
+Percy, but because it seemed as if a son of hers ought to have a wife to
+throw him up more. Percy, however, had no idea that Bertha was anything
+but a good foil to him, intellectually--and, as I have said, he regarded
+her (or believed he regarded her) a good deal like a pet canary.
+
+"Percy will soon be home, I suppose? To-day is not the day he goes to
+the Queen's Hall, is it?" asked Lady Kellynch, who thought any hall was
+highly honoured by Percy's presence, and very lucky to get it. She gave
+a graceful but rather unrecognising bow to Madeline, whom she never knew
+by sight. She really knew hardly anyone by sight except her sons; and
+this was the more odd as she had a particularly large circle of
+acquaintances, and made a point of accepting and returning every
+invitation she received, invariably being amongst those present at every
+possible form of entertainment, and punctiliously calling on people
+afterwards. She was always mounting staircases, going up in lifts, and
+driving about leaving cards, and was extremely hospitable and
+superlatively social. Bertha always wondered at her gregariousness,
+since one would fancy she could have got very little satisfaction in
+continual intercourse with a crowd of people whom she forgot the instant
+they were out of her sight. Lady Kellynch really knew people chiefly by
+their telephone numbers and their days, when they had any. She would
+say: "Mrs. So-and-so? Oh yes, six-three-seven-five Gerrard, at home on
+Sundays," but could rarely recollect anything else about her. She was at
+once vague and precise, quite amiable, very sentimental and utterly
+heartless; except to her sons.
+
+"No, Percy won't be home till dinner-time. To-day he's playing squash
+rackets."
+
+"That's so like his father," said Lady Kellynch admiringly. "He was
+always so fond of sports, and devoted to music. When I say sports, to be
+_strictly_ accurate I don't mean that he ever cared for rude, rough
+games like football or anything cruel like hunting or shooting, but he
+loved to look on at a game of cricket, and I've often been to Lord's
+with him." She sighed. "Dominoes! he was wild about dominoes! I assure
+you (dear Percy would remember), every evening after dinner he must have
+his game of dominoes, and sometimes even after lunch."
+
+"Dominoes, as you say, isn't exactly a field sport," sympathetically
+agreed Bertha.
+
+"Quite so, dear. But, however, that was his favourite game. Then, did I
+say just now he was fond of music? He didn't care for the kind that
+Percy likes, but he would rarely send a piano-organ away, and he even
+encouraged the German bands. How fond he was of books too--and reading,
+and that sort of thing! Percy gets his fondness for books from his
+father. Clifford too is fond of books."
+
+"He is indeed," said Bertha; "he's devoted to books. Last time I went to
+see him, when he was at home for the holidays, I found among his books a
+nice copy of 'The New Arabian Nights.' We hadn't one in the house at the
+time, and I asked him to lend it to me."
+
+"Did you indeed?"
+
+Lady Kellynch looked a shade surprised, as if it had been rather a
+liberty.
+
+"Well," said Bertha, laughing, and turning to Madeline, "what do you
+think he said? 'Bertha, I'm awfully sorry, but I make it a rule never to
+lend books. I don't approve of it--half the time they don't come back,
+and in fact--oh, I don't think it's a good plan. I never do it.' I took
+up the book and found written in it: '_To Bertha, with love from
+Percy_.' I said: 'So you don't approve of lending books. Do you see this
+is my book?' He looked at it and said solemnly: 'Yes, so it is, but I
+can't let you have it. I'm in the middle of it. Besides--oh! anyhow, I
+want it!'"
+
+Madeline and Bertha both laughed, saying that Clifford was really
+magnificent for twelve years old.
+
+Lady Kellynch seemed astonished at their amusement. She only said: "Oh
+yes; I know Clifford's _most_ particular about his books."
+
+"And even about my books," said Bertha.
+
+"Quite so, dear. They say in his report that he's getting so orderly.
+It's a very good report this term--er--at least, very good on the
+_whole_."
+
+"Oh, do let me see it."
+
+"No, I don't think I'll show it you. But I'll tell you what I'll do,
+I'll read you some extracts from it, if you like." She said this as if
+it were an epic poem, and she was promising them a rare literary treat.
+
+She took something out of her bag. "I know he doesn't work _very_ hard
+at school, but then the winter term is such a trying one; so cold for
+them to get up in the morning, poor little darlings!"
+
+"Poor pets!" said Bertha.
+
+Lady Kellynch took it out, while the others looked away discreetly, as
+she searched for suitable selections.
+
+After a rather long pause she read aloud, a little pompously and with
+careful elocution:
+
+"'_Doing fairly well in dictation, and becoming more accurate; in Latin
+moderate, scarcely up to the level of the form. ..._'"
+
+"Is it in blank verse?" asked Bertha.
+
+"Oh no! ... Of course he's in a very high form for his age." She then
+went on, after a longer pause: "'_Music and dancing: music, rather weak
+... dancing, a steady worker._' That's very good, isn't it? ...
+'_Map-drawing: very slovenly._'" (She read this rather proudly.)
+"'_Conduct: lethargic and unsteady; but a fair speller._' Excellent,
+isn't it? Of course they're frightfully severe at that school. ... Oh
+yes, and there's '_Bible good, but deficient in general knowledge. Has a
+little ability, but rarely uses it. ..._' It's dreadfully difficult to
+please them, really! But I think it's very satisfactory, don't you?"
+
+Realising that Lady Kellynch had only read aloud the very best and most
+brilliant extracts that she could find in the report--purple patches, as
+one may say--Bertha gathered that it could hardly have been worse. So
+she congratulated the mother warmly and cordially, and said how fond she
+was of Clifford.
+
+"He will be home soon for the Easter holidays. You must let him come and
+stay with us."
+
+"It's very kind of you, dear. Certainly he shall come, part of the time.
+I can't bear to part with him--especially at first. Yes--at first I feel
+I never want him to leave me again! However, he enjoys himself so much
+here that I like to send him to you towards the end. He looks upon
+Bertha quite like a playmate," she said to Madeline. Something about
+Madeline reminded her of someone she had met.
+
+"I was at a dinner-party last night where I met a young man I saw here
+once, who took you in to dinner. He knows Percy--he was at Balliol with
+Percy--a Mr. Denison--Mr. Rupert Denison. He seemed inclined to be
+rather intellectual. He talked to me a great deal about something--I
+forget what; but I know it was some subject: something that Percy once
+had to pass an examination in. ... I can't remember what it was. I used
+to know his mother; Mrs. Denison--a charming woman! I'm afraid though
+she didn't leave him very well off. I wonder how he manages to make two
+ends meet?"
+
+"He manages all right; he makes them lap over, I should think. Who did
+he take to dinner?" Bertha asked this in Madeline's interest.
+
+"Oh, a girl I don't like at all, whom I often see about. She's always
+everywhere. I daresay you know her, a Miss Chivvey, a Miss Moona
+Chivvey--a good family, the Chivveys of Warwickshire. But she's rather
+artistic-looking." (Lady Kellynch lowered her voice as if she were
+saying something improper:) "She has untidy hair and green beads round
+her neck. I don't like her--I don't like her style at all."
+
+"I've heard him mention her," said Madeline.
+
+"He talked to her a good deal in the evening, and he gave me the
+impression that he was giving her some sort of lesson--a lecture on
+architecture, or something. Well, dear, as Percy won't be in yet, I
+think I'd better go. I have a round of visits to pay."
+
+"Percy is going to write to you. He wants you to go to a concert with
+him. He particularly wants you to go."
+
+Lady Kellynch brightened up. "Dear boy, does he? Of course I'll go.
+Well, good-bye, darling."
+
+She swept from the room with the queenly grace and dignity that always
+seemed a little out of proportion to the occasion--one expected her to
+make a court curtsy, and go out backwards.
+
+"My mother-in-law really believes it matters whether she calls on people
+or not," said Bertha, in her low, even voice. "Isn't it touching?"
+
+Madeline seized her hand.
+
+"Bertha, need I be frightened of Moona Chivvey? She's a dangerous sort
+of girl; she takes interest in all the things Rupert does: pictures, and
+poetry and art needlework."
+
+"Does Rupert really do art needlework? What a universal genius he is!"
+
+"Don't be absurd! I mean the things he understands. And she runs after
+him, rather. Need I be afraid?"
+
+"No, you need not," reassured Bertha. "I don't think she sounds at all
+violent. There's a ring."
+
+"Then I'll go."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Almost immediately afterwards the servant announced "Mr. Nigel Hillier."
+
+Nigel Hillier came in cheerily and gaily, brimming over with vitality
+and in the highest spirits. At present he was like sunshine and fresh
+air. There was a lurking danger that as he grew older he might become
+breezy. But as yet there was no sign of a draught. He was just
+delightfully exhilarating. He was not what women call handsome or
+divine, but he was rather what men call a smart-looking chap: fair, with
+bright blue eyes, and the most mischievous smile in London. He was
+unusually rapid in thought, speech and movement, without being restless,
+and his presence was an excellent cure for slackness, languor,
+strenuousness or a morbid sense of duty.
+
+"You look as if you had only just got up," remarked Bertha, as she gave
+him her hand. "Not a bit as though you'd been through the fatigues and
+worries and the heat and burden of the day."
+
+"Oh, that's too bad!" he answered. "You know perfectly well I always get
+up in time to see the glorious sunset! Why this reproach? I don't know
+that I've ever seen you very early in the day; I always regard you less
+as a daughter of the morning than as a minion of the moon."
+
+"How is Mrs. Hillier?" replied Bertha rather coldly.
+
+"All right--I promise I won't. Mary? Why Mary is well--very well--but
+just, perhaps, a teeny bit trying--just a shade wearing. No--no, I don't
+mean that. ... Well, I'm at your service for the play and so on. Shall I
+write to Rupert Denison and Miss Irwin? And will you all come and dine
+with me, and where shall we go?"
+
+"Don't you think something thrilling and exciting and emotional--or,
+perhaps, something light and frivolous?"
+
+"For Rupert I advise certainly the trivial, the flippant. It would have
+a better effect. Why not go to the new Revue--'_That will be
+Fourpence_'--where they have the two young Simultaneous Dancers, the
+Misses Zanie and Lunie Le Face--one, I fancy, is more simultaneous than
+the other, I forget which. They are delightful, and will wake Denison
+up. In fact, I don't know who they _wouldn't_ wake up, they make such a
+row. They dance and sing, about Dixie and Honey and coons--and that sort
+of thing. They sing quite well, too--I mean for them."
+
+"But not for us? ... No, I don't want to take him with Madeline to
+anything that could be called a music-hall--something more correct for a
+_jeune fille_ would be better. ..."
+
+"To lead to a proposal, you mean. Well, we'd better fall back upon His
+Majesty's or Granville Barker. Poor Charlie! It's hard lines on that
+boy, Bertha--he's really keen on Miss Irwin."
+
+"I know; but what can we do? It's Rupert Denison she cares about."
+
+"Likes him, does she?" said Nigel.
+
+"Very much," answered Bertha, who rarely used a strong expression, but
+whose eyes made the words emphatic.
+
+Nigel whistled. "Oh, well, if it's as bad as that!"
+
+"It is. Quite."
+
+"Fancy! Lucky chap, old Rupert. Well, we must rush it through for them,
+I suppose. About the play--you want something serious, what price
+Shakespeare?"
+
+"No price. Let's go to the Russian Ballet."
+
+"Capital!" cried Nigel, moving quickly to the telephone in case she
+should change her mind; "and we'll dine at the Carlton first. May I use
+your telephone?"
+
+"Please!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+NIGEL
+
+
+The relation between Bertha and Nigel Hillier was a rather curious one.
+He had met her when she was eighteen. The attraction had been sudden,
+violent and mutual; and she was quite prepared to marry him against all
+opposition. There had been a good deal in her own family, because Nigel
+was what is euphemistically called without means, and she was the
+daughter of a fashionable London vicar who, though distinguished for his
+eloquence and extremely popular, successful and social, had a
+comparatively small income and a positively large family. In a short
+time Nigel--not Bertha--succumbed to the family opposition and the
+general prudent disapproval of worldly friends. He wrote and told Bertha
+that he was afraid after all they were right; persuaded to this view by
+having meanwhile met the only daughter of a millionaire when staying for
+a week-end at a country house. The girl had fallen in love with him,
+and was practically independent.
+
+A few months after his gorgeous wedding, described and photographed with
+the greatest enthusiasm in all the illustrated papers, Bertha married
+Percy Kellynch, to the great satisfaction of her relations. Nigel was,
+by then, a lost illusion, a disappointed ideal; she did not long resent
+his defection and it cured her passion, but she despised him for what
+she regarded as the baseness of his motive.
+
+She loved and looked up to Percy, but her marriage to him had not been
+at the time one of romance--to her great regret. She would have liked it
+to be, for she was one of those ardent souls to whom the glamour of love
+was everything; she could never worship false gods. But Bertha had a
+warm, grateful nature, and finding him even better than she expected,
+her affection threw out roots and tendrils; became deeper and deeper;
+her experience with Nigel had made her particularly appreciative of
+Percy's good qualities. She was expansive, affectionate and constant;
+and she really cared far more about Percy now than she did when she
+married him. And this, though she was quite aware that he was entirely
+wanting in several things that she had particularly valued in Nigel (a
+sense of humour for one), and that he had inherited rather acutely the
+depressing Kellynch characteristic of taking oneself seriously.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Percy, on the other hand, had been quite carried away by her rosebud
+charm and prettiness, and he had continued to regard her as a pet and a
+luxury (for he was pre-eminently one of that large class of people who
+see only the obvious). But he had never realised her complexities, and
+was quite unaware of her depth and strength of mind. He was proud of her
+popularity, and had never known a jealous moment. Since they had never
+had a shadow of a quarrel, theirs might certainly be described as a
+happy marriage; although Bertha had always found it from the first
+rather deficient in the elements of excitement and a little wanting in
+fun.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nigel, who had been in a frightful hole when he met the heiress, of
+course made a point of discovering, as soon as all grinding money
+troubles had been removed and agonising debts paid, that no material
+things were capable of making him happy. The gratification to his vanity
+of his big country house, and charming house in London and so forth,
+amused him for a very short time. He became horribly bored, and when
+Bertha married Percy Kellynch, felt pained and particularly surprised
+and disappointed in her. He had always believed her to be so superior to
+other girls, so true and loyal! It was quite a disillusion; to think
+that she could get over _him_ so easily! Women usually took much longer
+than that. However, he now despised himself even more as a fool than as
+a coward for having given up Bertha, and not being of the type who
+trouble to conceal their feelings in domestic life, he openly and
+frankly showed to the unfortunate Mary that he knew he had made an
+irrevocable mistake. This was the natural way of regaining his
+self-respect, since he was under the deepest obligation to her. To add
+to his annoyance, not long after the marriage he and his brother Charlie
+came into a legacy from an unexpected and forgotten relative. He knew,
+then, that if he had waited a little longer, (as she had wished), he
+could, without sacrifice, have married Bertha; and so he was naturally
+very angry with Mary.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Now that Bertha was beyond his reach she seemed to him the one desirable
+thing in the world. For several years they hardly met; then Nigel
+contrived that they should become friends again. Her feeling for him
+could never be revived. His was far more vivid than formerly. It was
+fanned by her coolness, and was in a fair way to become an _idée fixe_,
+for he was not material enough to live without some dream, some ideal,
+and Bertha found him amusing. There always had been a certain mental
+sympathy between them; in a sense (superficially and humorously), they
+saw life very much from the same standpoint. With the instinctive tact
+of the real lover of women he carefully concealed from her the secret
+that made his home life miserable, instead of merely tedious. It was,
+simply, that Mary was morbidly, madly jealous of him. He had shown far
+too soon that he had married her for her money, and if he had convinced
+her that she had bought him, it was perhaps natural in return that she
+should wish for her money's worth. The poor woman was passionately in
+love with Nigel. She suspected him of infidelity, with and without
+reason, morning, noon, and night; it was almost a monomania. They had
+two children in the first and second years of the marriage. Nigel was
+carelessly fond of them, but he regarded them rather as a private luxury
+and resource of his wife, mistakenly thinking their society could fill
+up all the gaps made by his rather frequent absences. Nigel knew better
+than to complain of his wife, or to ask for sympathy from Bertha, for he
+was certain that if she had the faintest idea of the jealousy, her door
+would be closed to him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha was peculiarly kind, peculiarly full of sympathy for her own sex.
+And yet she was not at all fond of the society of women, with few
+exceptions; and she was often bored by the liking and admiration she
+usually inspired in them. Something in her personality disarmed ordinary
+jealousy, for though she was pretty and attractive, it was easy for
+other women to see that she was not trying to attract. What the average
+woman resents in another woman is not her involuntary charm; it is her
+making use of it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+With the casual indiscretion of the selfish man, Nigel, of course, told
+his wife at length, early in the honeymoon, all about his romance with
+Bertha. This Mary had never forgiven. Curiously, she minded more this
+old innocent affair of ten years ago, which he had broken off for _her_,
+than any of his flirtations since. Bertha had rightly guessed that, when
+they met, Mary had taken a great dislike to her. But she had no idea
+that Nigel's wife was suspicious, nor that she seriously and bitterly
+resented his visits. He never admitted them to Mary if he could help
+it, for he had learnt by now to be so far considerate to her--or to
+himself--that he would tell her fifty fibs in half-an-hour rather than
+let out one annoying fact. Nigel saw--he was very quick in these
+matters--that the only terms on which he could ever see anything of
+Bertha were those of the intimate old brotherly friend; the slightest
+look or suggestion of sentiment of any kind made her curl up and look
+angry. She made it utterly impossible for him to make the slightest
+allusion to the past. The friendliness had been growing to intimacy, and
+Nigel believed that perhaps with time he might get back to the old
+terms, or something like them. It was becoming the chief object of his
+life. He was a keen sportsman, and the ambition of the hunter was added
+to the longing of the lover. A born diplomatist, he had, of course,
+easily made Percy like him immensely. But he hated Percy, and could
+never forgive him for the unpardonable injury he had done to him, Nigel,
+in consoling Bertha. Nigel could not bear to own, even to himself, that
+Bertha was happy in her married life. Sometimes he would swear to
+himself when he remembered that it was all his own doing, that she might
+have been _his_ wife. How coolly she had taken it! She had accepted it
+at the time with calm acquiescence, and met him again with amiable
+composure. Had she ever really forgiven him?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It had opened her eyes, had been a shock. She saw him now as the
+shattered dream of her childish fancy, and she was thankful for her
+escape. Yet deep down in her heart was a slight scar. It did not make
+her hate Nigel, but apart from the fun and pleasantness of their
+intercourse her real indifference to him was slightly tinged with
+acidity: probably she would have been less sorry for him in any trouble
+than for anybody else.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha's vanity was not a very vivid part of her, and it took only one
+form. When she cared for anyone she was deeply (though not outwardly)
+exacting; she wanted that person entirely. To say that the general
+admiration she received gave her no pleasure would be an absurd
+exaggeration; if she had suddenly lost it, she would have missed it very
+much, no doubt. But after all, she valued it chiefly because she thought
+it was good for Percy. Privately she was not satisfied that Percy valued
+her enough. Had her many friends and acquaintances been told that the
+chief wish of the pretty Mrs. Kellynch was the more complete and
+absolute conquest of her own husband--who seemed much more devoted than
+most husbands--they would have been surprised, incredulous, perhaps even
+a little shocked.
+
+Nigel had promised to use all the means at his disposal to help
+Madeline. Bertha was anxious her friend should have what she had just
+missed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well! Soon after the dinner I shall go and see Rupert in his rooms. I
+shall get to know him well, and I shall gradually tell him about
+Charlie, and how keen he is, and lead up to Miss Irwin, and say what a
+charming girl she is, and all that sort of thing. Nothing makes so much
+impression."
+
+"Don't make him jealous of Charlie," said Bertha. "Anything that he
+regarded as a slight I think would put an end to it. Rupert is not quite
+a commonplace man."
+
+"Jealous? Oh no, I should merely imply that Miss Madeline won't have
+anything to say to Charlie, and that I wonder why. But it can't do him
+any harm to know someone else wants her. My dear girl, a man understands
+another man. That is where women are such fools. They think they know
+more about men than men do, and that is why they are always being----"
+He stopped.
+
+She smiled.
+
+"Oh no. I quite do you justice, Nigel. I am never above consulting you
+on that sort of subject. I may know just a little bit more about men
+than some women do, for one reason----"
+
+"And what is that? Because you attract them?"
+
+"No, that doesn't help much. It's because I have brothers, and they have
+always confided in me without reserve. Oh! there was one more thing I
+_may_ have to ask you. I don't want to, and I don't like it at all, on
+account of Mrs. Hillier; but still it might happen to be necessary. It's
+_just_ possible I may ask you to flirt a little with a girl called Moona
+Chivvey."
+
+"Oh, _I_ know her." He smiled. "Of course I'd do anything for you, but
+_that_ would be about the hardest thing you could command."
+
+"She's not uninteresting," said Bertha. "I shall find out how she stands
+with Rupert, and I don't think there's much danger. But if it should be
+required--well--you might go further and fare worse."
+
+"I expect I should go further than Rupert," murmured Nigel.
+
+"Nigel, _don't_ think I haven't scruples about things. I have, very
+much, but I know a good deal about Moona, and I really think that any
+harmless thing we can do to remove obstacles for poor Madeline should be
+done. I promised Madeline. I shall be grateful if you'll help, Nigel."
+
+"There's no question about it," said Nigel. "Of course it must be rushed
+through. And now I suppose you want me to go?"
+
+"Oh no! Please don't! Percy will be here directly."
+
+He got up.
+
+"Good-bye. I'll ring you up to-morrow. It's some little consolation for
+being an idle man to have leisure to fulfil your commands."
+
+She answered that he was very good and she was very pleased with him,
+and he went away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+RUPERT AT RUMPELMEYER'S
+
+
+At a quarter to four precisely, in a heavy shower of rain, Madeline
+sprang out of a taxicab in St. James's Street, and tripped into
+Rumpelmeyer's. As it was pouring lavishly and she had no umbrella, she
+hastily and enthusiastically overpaid the cabman, with a feeling of
+superstition that it might bring her luck; besides, a few drops of rain,
+she reflected, would ruin her smart new hat if she waited for change. It
+was a very small hat, over her eyes, decorated with a very high feather,
+in the form of a lightning-conductor. She was charmingly dressed in a
+way that made her look very tall, slim and elegant. Her rather long,
+sweet face was paler than usual, her sincere brown eyes brighter. She
+had come to have tea with Rupert.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From the back room, waiting for her, rose the worshipped hero. He was,
+as she had described him, very much like a Vandyke picture. He had
+broad shoulders, and a thin waist, a pointed brown beard, regular
+features, very large deep blue eyes, and an absurdly small mouth with
+dazzling white teeth. If he was almost too well dressed--so well that
+one turned round to look at his clothes--his distinguished manners and
+_grand seigneur_ air carried it off. One saw it was not the
+over-dressing of the _nouveau riche_, but the rather old-world dandyism
+of a past generation. This was the odder as the year was 1913, and he
+was exactly thirty. He always wore a buttonhole--to-day it was made of
+violets to match his violet socks--and invariably carried a black ebony
+stick, with an ivory handle.
+
+With a quiet smile on his small mouth, he greeted and calmed the
+agitated Madeline.
+
+She dropped her bag on the floor before she sat down, and when Rupert
+picked it up for her she dropped it again on a plate of cream cakes. He
+then took it and moved it to his side of the table.
+
+"I thought," he said smoothly, in a rather low, soothing voice, "that
+you'd like these cakes better than toast."
+
+She eagerly assured him that he was right, though it happened to be
+quite untrue.
+
+"And China tea, of _course_?"
+
+"Oh, of _course_!" She disliked it particularly.
+
+"And now, tell me, how has life been treating you?" he asked, as he
+looked first at her, and then with more eager interest at his pointed
+polished finger-nails.
+
+Before she could answer, he went on:
+
+"And that book on architecture that I sent you--tell me, have you read
+it?"
+
+"Every word."
+
+This was perfectly true; she could have passed an examination in it.
+
+"That's delightful. Then, now that you know something about it, I should
+like very much to take you to Westminster Abbey or St. Paul's, or to see
+one of those really beautiful old cathedrals. ... We must plan it out."
+
+"Oh, please do. I revel in old things," she said, thinking the remark
+would please him.
+
+He arranged his buttonhole of Parma violets, then looked up at her,
+smiling.
+
+"Do you mean that at your age you really appreciate the past?"
+
+"Indeed, I do."
+
+"But you mustn't live for it, you know--not over-value it. You must
+never forget that, after all, the great charm of the past is that it is
+over. One must live for the hour, for the moment. ... You'll remember
+that, won't you?"
+
+"Oh yes, I _do_," she said gratefully, taking a bite of cream cake.
+
+"What they call Futurism (I hope you understand) is absolute rubbish and
+inconsistent nonsense. For this reason. It's impossible to enjoy the
+present or the future if you eliminate the past entirely, as the
+so-called Futurists wish to do. Destruction of old associations and
+treasures would ruin one's sense of proportion; it's worse than living
+in the prehistoric. Besides, at least we know what _has_ happened, and
+what _is_ happening, but we can't possibly know what is _going_ to be,
+what the future holds for us; so what's the point of thinking only of
+that? Why should we live only for posterity, when, as the old joke says,
+posterity has done nothing for us!"
+
+"Well, the truth is _I_ always feel nothing matters except now," said
+Madeline candidly.
+
+He laughed. "And, in a way, you're right; it's all we're quite sure of."
+
+"Yes, I'm afraid it is."
+
+"By the way," he said, dropping his instructive manner, "can you tell me
+where you get your hats? Do you mind?"
+
+"Oh yes, of course I can; at several places. This one came from----" She
+hesitated a moment.
+
+"Paquin?" he asked, in a low, mysterious voice.
+
+"Selfridge," she replied.
+
+"Oh, I didn't know you were a Selfridgette! But, please forgive my
+asking, won't you? Someone who didn't seem to know ... I mean, a friend
+of mine. ... Oh, well, I know you don't mind telling me."
+
+He looked hard at her hat, could find no fault with it. Evidently its
+value was not diminished in his eyes. He was rather gratified that it
+did not come from some impossibly costly place. This pleased her; it was
+a good sign. Satisfaction at a moderate indication of economy suggested
+serious intentions.
+
+"It suits you very well," he went on, in his kind, approving way. "Now,
+will you give me another cup of tea?"
+
+She poured it out rather shakily.
+
+"No sugar, please."
+
+"Oh!" She had already nervously dropped in about three lumps.
+
+"Oh well, never mind. ... Yes, you're looking charming, Madeline--it's
+absurd calling you Miss Irwin after knowing each other so long, isn't
+it?"
+
+She was so delighted that she almost thanked him for calling her by her
+Christian name.
+
+"Do you know, Madeline," he went on, "that, at times, you're almost a
+beauty."
+
+She opened her mouth with surprise.
+
+"_Almost._ You were one evening--I forget which evening--you had
+something gold in your hair, and you were quite Byzantine. And then,
+again, a few days after I saw you, and--er--oh well, anyhow--you always
+look nice."
+
+"I suppose you mean," she murmured, feeling shy at talking so much of
+herself, "that most girls look best in the evening."
+
+"There I venture to differ from you entirely. All girls, all women, look
+their best in the afternoon. The hat is everything. Evening dress is the
+most trying and unbecoming thing in the world; only the most perfect
+beauties, who are also very young and fresh, can stand it. The most
+becoming thing for a woman is either _négligé_, or a hat. You,
+particularly, Madeline, look your best in the afternoon."
+
+"I wish then that I lived in that land where it is always afternoon!"
+she said, laughing.
+
+He gave his superior little smile. "The Lotus Eaters? Good. I didn't
+know you cared for Tennyson."
+
+"I don't," she answered hastily, anxious to please.
+
+He raised his eyebrows. "Then you should. Have you a favourite poet,
+Madeline?"
+
+"Oh yes, of course--Swinburne."
+
+She thought this a perfectly safe thing to say.
+
+"Strong meat for babes," he of course replied, and then began to murmur
+to himself: "_For a day and a night love sang to us, played with us._
+You think that beautiful, Madeline?"
+
+"Oh yes. How beautifully you say it!"
+
+He laughed. "Quoting poetry at Rumpelmeyer's! Well, perhaps no place is
+quite prosaic where ..."
+
+She looked up.
+
+He took another tea-cake.
+
+... "Where there's anyone so interested, so intelligent as yourself."
+
+He had returned to the indulgent, encouraging schoolmaster's tone.
+
+"Do you know In the Orchard?" he went on, and murmured: "_Ah God, ah
+God! that day should be so soon!_ Well! May I smoke a cigarette?"
+
+"Oh, of _course_."
+
+"Oh ... Madeline!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Denison?"
+
+"Who is Nigel Hillier?"
+
+"Oh, don't you know him?"
+
+"Of course I know him; we belong to the same club, and that sort of
+thing, but that doesn't tell me who he is."
+
+She was wondering what Rupert meant exactly by who, but supposed he was
+speaking socially, so she said hesitatingly:
+
+"Well, Nigel Hillier ... he married that Miss----"
+
+He interrupted her, putting up his hand rather like a policeman in the
+traffic. "I know all about his marriage, my dear friend. I didn't ask
+you whom he married. Who _is_ he?"
+
+"Bertha and Percy have known him all their lives--at least all Bertha's
+life."
+
+"Oh yes. Then he's a friend of Percy Kellynch? But that doesn't tell me
+what I want to know. WHO is he?"
+
+With a flash of inspiration she said:
+
+"Oh yes! Oh, he's a _nephew_ of Lord Wantage. He has no father and
+mother, I believe. He and his brother Charlie----"
+
+"Ah yes, yes. It comes back to me now--I remember which Hilliers they
+are. Well, Hillier has asked me to dine with him and go to the Russian
+Ballet. Rather nice of him. I'm going, and--do you know why I accepted,
+Madeline?"
+
+"You like the Russian Ballet."
+
+"I was told that Mrs. Kellynch and _you_ were to be of the party."
+
+"I'm glad you're going," she answered. "Bertha's so awfully kind----"
+She stopped suddenly, as if she had made a _gaffe_.
+
+He smiled. "Really? And what has Bertha's kindness to do with it?"
+
+"Oh, nothing. I mean she always takes me out wherever she can; she's so
+good-natured."
+
+"She strikes me as being a very beautiful and brilliant person," said
+Rupert coldly. "Very wonderful--very delightful. ... It appears that
+Mrs. Hillier has influenza."
+
+"Oh yes," said Madeline quickly--too quickly.
+
+"You knew it? No; you thought that she probably _would_ have," said he,
+laughing, as he struck a match. Then he leant back, smoking, with that
+slow, subtle smile about nothing in particular that had a peculiar,
+hypnotic effect upon Madeline.
+
+She adored him more and more every moment. She knew she was never at her
+best in his company; he made her nervous, shy, and schoolgirlish, and so
+modest that she seemed to be longing to ooze away, to eliminate herself
+altogether. Then he said:
+
+"Well, Madeline, it wouldn't be nice if I kept you too long away from
+your mother--she won't trust me with you again."
+
+She jumped up.
+
+"Have I been too long?"
+
+"Nonsense, child," he said. "But still----" With one look at the clock
+he rather hurriedly gave her her belongings.
+
+"I'm going to put you into a nice taxi, and send you home. We shall meet
+at Hillier's dinner, that will be nice, and we shall see the wonderful
+ballet together."
+
+She murmured that it would be lovely.
+
+"I should like to drive you home," he said rather half-heartedly, as
+they stood at the door in the rain; "in fact, I should insist upon doing
+so ..."
+
+"Oh no!"
+
+... "But I have an appointment with a friend I'm expecting to call for
+me here. Au revoir, then!"
+
+She went away happy, disturbed, anxious and delighted, as she always was
+when she had seen him. She ran straight to her dressing-table, took off
+her hat, put something gold in her hair and tried to look Byzantine.
+
+He returned to the little table. He had it cleared, and ordered fresh
+tea and cakes. Then he took out his watch.
+
+In about twenty minutes, during which he grew rather nervous and
+impatient, he rose and went to the door again to greet another guest,
+who had been invited to tea an hour and a half later than Madeline.
+
+She also was a young girl, good-looking, very dark and rather inclined
+to fullness in face and figure. When I say that she had handsome
+regular aquiline features, two thick curtains of black hair drawn over
+her ears, from which depended long ear-rings of imitation coral, it
+seems almost unnecessary to add (for this type of girl always dresses in
+the same way) that she wore a flat violet felt hat, the back of which
+touched her shoulders, a particularly tight dark blue serge coat and
+skirt, a very low collar, and lisle thread stockings which showed above
+low shiny shoes with white spats. In her hands she held a pair of new
+white gloves, unworn.
+
+She bounced in with a good deal of _aplomb_, and, without apologising
+for her lateness, began to chatter a little louder than most of the
+people present, and with great confidence.
+
+"No, not China tea, thanks. I prefer Indian. Oh, not cream cakes; I hate
+them. Can't I have hot tea-cakes? Thanks. I've no idea what the time is.
+I've been to Mimsie's studio. She would insist on doing a drawing of me,
+and I'm sitting to her"--she turned her face a little on one side--"like
+this, you know."
+
+"Is it like you, Miss Chivvey?"
+
+"Oh, good gracious, I hope not! At least I hope I'm not like _it_! I
+don't want to have a pretty picture, I'm sure. But Mimsie's awfully
+clever. It's sure to be all right. Do you know her? I must take you to
+her studio one day."
+
+"Thanks immensely," said Rupert Denison, a little coolly. "But--it may
+seem odd to you, but I haven't the slightest desire to increase my
+acquaintance at my age. In fact, do you know, I think I know quite
+enough people--in every set," he added.
+
+As he poured out some milk, she jumped and gave a little shriek.
+
+"Oh, _don't_ do that. I never take milk. What a bad memory you've got!
+Funny place this, isn't it?" She was looking round. "I don't think I've
+ever been here before."
+
+"Don't you like the plan of it?" he said, looking round at the walls and
+ceiling. "It may not be perfect, but really, for London, it isn't bad.
+It seems to me that anyone can see that it was designed by a gentleman."
+
+"You mean anyone can see it's not designed by an architect?" she asked,
+with a laugh so loud that he raised a finger.
+
+He then carefully introduced the subject of hats and advised her to go,
+for millinery, to Selfridge. They discussed it at length, and it was
+settled by his offering her a hat as a birthday present. She accepted,
+of course, with a loud laugh.
+
+Rupert, with his mania for educating and improving young people, had
+begun, about a fortnight ago, trying to polish Miss Chivvey. But he had
+his doubts as to its being possible; and he was, all the same, beginning
+to be a little carried away. She was sometimes (he owned) amusing; and
+it was unusual for him to be laughed at. How differently Madeline
+regarded him!
+
+However, he drove Moona home to Camden Hill and promised to meet her and
+help her to choose a hat.
+
+"But I sha'n't let you interfere too much. What do men know of
+millinery?" she asked contemptuously.
+
+"I am sure I know what would suit you," he replied. "You see, you're
+very vivid, and very much alive; you stand out, so you really want, if I
+may say so, attenuating, subduing, shading."
+
+"Perhaps you would like me to put my head in a bag?"
+
+"No one would regret that more than I should."
+
+"I foresee we're going to quarrel about this hat," she answered. "Now,
+Mr. Denison, do let me explain to you, I don't want anything _smart_. I
+don't want to look like _Paris Fashions_."
+
+"No? What do you want to look like?"
+
+"Why, artistic, of course! What a blighter you are!"
+
+Rupert winced at this vague accusation. They were nearly at her house
+and he put his hand on hers in a way that was rather controlling than
+caressing.
+
+"Let me have one little pleasure. Let me choose your hat myself," he
+said. He was terrified at the idea of what she might come out in on
+artistic grounds. Then she would tell all her friends it was a present
+from him! She had no sort of reticence.
+
+"Well, I suppose you must have your own way. Do you really know anything
+about it?" she asked doubtfully.
+
+"Rather. Everything!"
+
+They arrived. She jumped out.
+
+"Well, I'll ring you up and tell you when I can go there and meet you.
+Good-bye! You _are_ a nut!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+A HAPPY HOME
+
+
+The first six months after his marriage it used to give Nigel a thrill
+of gratification and vanity to go home to his house, one of the finest
+in Grosvenor Street, and splendidly kept up. Then he had suddenly grown
+horribly sick of it, longed for freedom in a garret, and now he
+associated it with no thrill of pride or pleasure, but with boredom,
+depression, quarrels and lack of liberty. Liberty! Ah! That was it; that
+was what he felt more than anything else. He had married for money
+chiefly to _get_ liberty. One was a slave, always in debt--but it was
+much worse now. The master of the house lost all his vitality, gaiety
+and air of command the moment he came into the hall.
+
+"Where's Mrs. Hillier?"
+
+"Mrs. Hillier is in the boudoir, sir."
+
+The boudoir was a little pink and blue Louis Seize room on the ground
+floor, opposite the dining-room. From the window Mary could watch for
+Nigel. That was what she always did. She hardly ever did anything else.
+Few women were so independent of such aids to idleness as light
+literature (how heavy it generally is!), newspapers, needlework or a
+piano. Few people indeed had such a concentrated interest in one
+subject. She was sitting in an arm-chair, with folded hands, looking out
+of the window. It was a point of vantage, whence she could see Nigel
+arrive more quickly than from anywhere else.
+
+As soon as he caught the first glimpse of her at the window it began to
+get on his nerves. It was maddening to be waited for. ...
+
+"You're five minutes late," she said abruptly, as he came in. She always
+spoke abruptly, even when she wanted to be most amiable. He was
+determined not to be bad-tempered, and smiled good-naturedly.
+
+"Am I? So sorry." He was very quick and rapid in every word and
+movement, but soft and suave--never blunt, as she was.
+
+"Where have you been?"
+
+"I went to look at those pictures in Bond Street," he replied, without a
+moment's hesitation.
+
+He had come straight from seeing Bertha--on the subject of Madeline and
+Rupert--but he never thought of telling her that.
+
+"Oh! Why didn't you take _me_?"
+
+"I really don't know. I didn't think of it, I suppose. We'll go another
+day."
+
+He sat down opposite her and began to smoke a cigarette, having
+permission always. She sat staring at him with clasped hands and eager
+eyes.
+
+Bertha's description of her as having flat red hair, a receding chin and
+long ear-rings was impressionistically accurate. It was what one noticed
+most. Mrs. Hillier was plain, and not at all pleasant-looking, though
+she had a pretty figure, looked young, and might have been made
+something of if she had had charm. There was something eager, sharp and
+yet depressed about her, that might well be irritating.
+
+She got up and came and stood next to Nigel; playing with his tie, a
+little trick which nearly drove him mad, but he was determined to hide
+it. When he couldn't bear it any longer he said: "That will do, dear."
+
+She moved away.
+
+"How do you mean 'that will do'?"
+
+"Nothing; only don't fidget."
+
+"You're nervous, Nigel. You are always telling me not to fidget."
+
+"Am I? Sorry. Where are the children?"
+
+"Never mind the children for a minute. They're out with Mademoiselle."
+
+"Seen much of them to-day?"
+
+"They came in to lunch. No, I have _not_, as a matter of fact. Do you
+expect me to spend my whole time with children of eight and nine?"
+
+He didn't answer, but it was exactly what he really did expect, and
+would have thought perfectly natural and suitable.
+
+"Some women," continued Mary, "seem to care a great deal more for their
+children than they do for their husbands. I'm _not_ like that--I don't
+pretend to be."
+
+Nigel already knew this, to his great regret.
+
+"I care more for you than I do for the children," she repeated.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What do you mean by 'Yes'?"
+
+"I was assenting: that's all. I meant--that you've told me all this
+before, my dear. Haven't you?"
+
+"Do you object? Do you _mind_ my caring more for you than for the
+children?"
+
+"If I object to anything it's only to your repeating yourself. I
+mean--we've had all this; haven't we?"
+
+"Nigel, are you trying to quarrel with me for loving you better than the
+children?"
+
+Nigel turned pale with irritation but controlled himself and stood up
+and looked out of the window.
+
+"Not in the least. It's most flattering. I only don't want to be told it
+every time I see you. ... I mean that of course I should think it
+perfectly natural if you were fond of the children too."
+
+"I _am_ fond of them," she answered, "but they are not everything to me.
+They don't fill up my whole time and all my thoughts. They won't do
+instead of you."
+
+"No one suggested that, I think. Have you been for a drive to-day?"
+
+"No--I haven't."
+
+"What a funny woman you are, Mary! You might as well not have a motor
+for all the use you make of it."
+
+"I had nowhere to go."
+
+He looked at some invitation cards on the mantelpiece. "Oh, my dear,
+that's absolute nonsense. You mean you don't care to go anywhere. It
+_is_ extraordinary, how you drop people, Mary! When we first came to
+this house we had a lot of parties and things. Now you never seem to
+care for them."
+
+"It's quite true," she answered. "We did have parties and things. They
+made me miserable. I hated them."
+
+"Rather odd; aren't you?"
+
+"I hated them and loathed them," she continued. "For it only meant there
+were crowds of women who tried to flirt with you."
+
+"That's an _idée fixe_ of yours, my dear. Pure fancy, you know."
+
+"Well; all I know is I hated to see you talking to the women who came
+here. I tell you, quite frankly, _that's_ the reason why I've given up
+accepting invitations and giving them. Of course, if you _insist_, I
+will. I would do anything you told me."
+
+"Oh, good God, no! Let's cut out the parties, then. Don't have them for
+_me_! I thought it would be fun for you. ... What _do_ you do all day,
+Mary, if I may ask? You never seem to have any shopping--or hobbies--or
+anything that other women have to do."
+
+"I do the housekeeping in the morning," she said; "I see cook and look
+after everything to make things as _you_ like."
+
+"And I'm sure you do it very well indeed. But it doesn't take long; and
+after that----?"
+
+"I sit in that chair looking out of the window for you."
+
+He bit his lip impatiently, trying not to be irritable.
+
+"It's very nice of you, Mary, I'm sure. But I do wish you wouldn't!"
+
+"Why not? Don't you _like_ me to be waiting for you?"
+
+"No--I don't. I should like to think you were enjoying yourself; having
+a good time."
+
+"Well, I shouldn't do it if you took me out with you always."
+
+"My dear, I'm always delighted to take you with me, but I can't take you
+everywhere."
+
+"Where can't you take me?"
+
+"Well--to the club!" He smiled, and took up a newspaper.
+
+"I suppose you must go to your club sometimes," she said rather
+grudgingly. "But tell me, Nigel, would you like us to go in more for
+society again as we used at first?"
+
+He thought a moment. There were more quarrels when they saw more
+people--in fact, the fewer people they met the fewer subjects arose for
+scenes.
+
+"Well," he said, "suppose you give just one party this year. Just to
+'keep our circle together,' as they say--then we can stop it again, if
+you like."
+
+"What sort of party?"
+
+"Any sort. Musical, if you like."
+
+"Oh! that means having horrid singers and players, and performers! I
+don't like that set, Nigel."
+
+"All right. Let's give a dance. We've got a splendid floor."
+
+"A _dance_? Oh no. I don't dance; and I couldn't bear to see you dancing
+with anyone."
+
+"This is all very flattering, my dear, but you know you're really rather
+absurd. Girls wouldn't be fighting to dance with an old married man like
+me. Altogether,--the way you regard me,--the way you imagine I'm the
+marked-down prey of every woman you know,--would be too comical if it
+wasn't so pathetic."
+
+"Oh, really? So you say! You're thirty-five;--you're better-looking than
+ever."
+
+"Thanks. It's very kind of you to think so." He laughed rather
+contemptuously. "What a fatuous idiot I should be if I believed you.
+But--to go back to what we were talking about--it really is in a way
+rather a pity you're gradually dropping everybody like that. It seems to
+me that one should either have a cosy, clever, interesting little set of
+amusing and really intimate _friends_; or else, a large circle of
+acquaintances; or both. I'm not speaking of parties, for me. No man of
+course cares about all that sort of rot; it's only for you; women like
+going out as a rule."
+
+"I didn't care much about the sort of society you introduced me to when
+we first married. I didn't like any of them much."
+
+"What's the matter with them?" he asked. He knew she had always felt
+morbidly and bitterly out of it because she mistakenly believed that
+everybody was interested in the fact that her grandfather had made a
+fortune in treacle, and that her husband was Lord Wantage's nephew. As a
+matter of fact, no one who came to the house cared in the slightest
+degree about either of these circumstances (even if they knew them) but
+merely wished candidly to enjoy themselves in a large, jolly, hospitable
+house, owned by a very attractive man with a large number of amusing
+friends and, apparently, a harmless and good-natured little wife. Mary
+detested and soon put a stop to intimate or Bohemian friends who sat up
+all night smoking, talking art or literature, or being musical; and she
+managed rapidly to reduce their circle to a much smaller one at a much
+greater distance. She had not a single intimate friend. With women she
+only exchanged cards. "What's wrong with them all?" Nigel repeated, for
+he was beginning to lose patience.
+
+"Oh! their manners are all right. If you really want to know what I
+think of the whole set--I mean that sort of half-clever, half-smart set
+you were in--the barristers and writers, artists, sporting and gambling
+men, and women mad on music and the theatre--well, it is that the men
+are silly and frivolous, and the women horrid and--and _fast_! Some are
+cold and just as hard as nails, others are positively _wicked_! I admit
+most of the men have nice manners and the women are not stupid. They all
+dress well."
+
+Nigel was silent a moment.
+
+"Well, after all, if you don't like them, why should you see them?" he
+said, good-naturedly enough. He did not feel inclined to defend all his
+acquaintances. "But may I ask, do you consider that this set, as you
+call it, lead a _useless_ life?"
+
+"Yes; of course I do."
+
+"Oh! Good. That's all I wanted to know."
+
+"I see what you mean quite well," she said, walking up and down the
+room. "You think _I_ lead a useless life--that I'm not accomplished or
+literary or even domestic, or social. You think I lead an empty life
+with all my money."
+
+"Well, why shouldn't you, if you like it? But I wish you enjoyed it
+yourself more, that's the point."
+
+"I can never enjoy myself--if you want to know, Nigel--except when I'm
+with you; and even then I'm often not happy, because I think you don't
+care to be with me."
+
+"Oh, Mary! really! How awful you are! What rot all this is! I can't say
+more than that you can do whatever you like from morning to night, and
+that I don't wish to interfere with you in any possible way."
+
+"But I should like you to be _with_ me more."
+
+He restrained the obvious retort (that she didn't make herself
+agreeable).
+
+"Well, I _am_ with you." He humoured her gently.
+
+"Yes--at this moment."
+
+"Aren't we going to dine together?"
+
+"Yes, we are. But about an hour afterwards I know you'll find some sort
+of excuse either to go out, or to go into the library and read. Why
+can't you read while I'm looking at you? Why not?"
+
+"Don't be always looking forward, meeting troubles half way," he said
+jokingly. "Perhaps I sha'n't read." Then, after a moment's pause:
+"Excuse my saying so, my dear, but if _you_ sometimes read a book, or
+the papers, or saw more people, you would have more to tell me when we
+did meet, wouldn't you?"
+
+"It doesn't matter about that. You can tell me what you've been reading
+or seeing. Who did you see at the picture gallery? Was Mrs. Kellynch
+there?"
+
+"Look here"--he was looking at the paper--"would you like to go to the
+opera after dinner? Let's go one of these days soon."
+
+"No; I shouldn't like it at all."
+
+He stared at her in surprise.
+
+"Why not, pray? I thought you enjoyed it the other night?"
+
+"_You_ enjoyed it," she replied.
+
+"I thought you seemed rather pleased with yourself when we went out,
+with all your furs and tiaras and things. You looked very smart," he
+said pleasantly.
+
+"Well, I tell you I hated it, Nigel."
+
+"And why?"
+
+Mary was at least candid, and she spoke bluntly.
+
+"Because we met Mrs. Kellynch; and you talked to her and seemed pleased
+to see her."
+
+"Oh, good heavens! I can hardly cut dead all the women I ever knew
+before we were married."
+
+"Do you think her pretty?" said Mary.
+
+"Yes, of course I do; and so does everyone. She is pretty. It's a
+well-known fact. But what does it matter? It's of no interest to me."
+
+"Are you sure it isn't? Didn't you tell me you were almost engaged
+once?"
+
+"Oh, _do_ let's drop the prehistoric," he entreated, appearing bored.
+"Never mind about ancient history now. She's married and seems very
+happy." (He stopped himself in time from saying like us.) "Kellynch is a
+very good sort."
+
+"Is he? Do you envy him?"
+
+"Mary, really, don't be absurd. Let me tell you that there's not one man
+in a hundred who could stand ..." and he moved a step farther away.
+
+"Could stand what?" She came nearer to him. "My caring for you so much?"
+
+Half-a-minute passed in something near torture, as she played with his
+tie again, and he controlled himself and spoke with a determinedly kind
+smile.
+
+"Go along and dress for dinner," he said.
+
+"What shall I wear?"
+
+"Oh! Your pretty yellow teagown," he answered.
+
+She could not go out in that, he was reflecting, and if he suddenly
+wanted to go for a walk----
+
+"Very well, Nigel. Oh, dear Nigel! I don't mean to be disagreeable."
+
+"I'm sure you don't," he answered, "let's leave it at that, my dear."
+
+"All right," she said smiling, and went away, with a rather coquettish
+kiss of the hand to him.
+
+He opened the door and shut it after her, with gallant attention. Then
+he threw up his arms with a despairing gesture.
+
+"My God! What a woman! Why--why was I such a fool? ... How much longer
+_can_ I bear it?"
+
+The Hilliers' relatives and intimate friends often said cheerfully about
+them: "Mary is very fond of Nigel, but she rather gets on his nerves."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+No one seemed yet to have discovered that there was a large double
+tragedy in that simple, commonplace sentence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+FUTURISM
+
+
+It had long been Nigel's dream, since he had practically given up all
+hope of calm and peaceful happiness at home, to have, at least, a secret
+sorrow that everyone knew of and sympathised with. And certain people
+did feel for him, understanding the great worry of his wife's morbid
+jealousy. But the general public thought him extremely fortunate to have
+married a woman--or rather a young girl--whose enormous wealth was only
+equalled by her extraordinary devotion. Yet from the one person who
+mattered, the look of tacit sympathy was denied him. How it would have
+soothed him and made him absolutely happy! And Bertha was the only human
+being who must never be allowed to know of his domestic troubles. She
+was extremely proud, and it would have caused her great anger and pain
+to think that after throwing her over (as he really had, for worldly
+advantages), he should then want to come back, complain ungratefully of
+the benefactress he had chosen and philander and amuse himself again. So
+he had never referred to his unhappy life. His plan was deeper than
+that. It was to appear merely the amusing friend, until by some chance,
+he should feel his way to be more secure; to be, in fact, a kind of tame
+cat, a _camarade_, useful, and intellectually sympathetic, unselfishly
+devoted--until, perhaps, the time might come when she might find she
+could not do without him. His calculations happened to be completely
+wrong, but that, of course, he could not know. Like all collectors,
+whether of women or of any other works of art or nature, although a
+connoisseur, he did not quite recognise the exceptional when he met
+it--his rules of life were too general. And his love for Bertha--what
+word can one use but the word-of-all-work, love, which means so many
+variations and shades, and complications of passion, sentiment, vanity
+and attraction?--his love had greatly increased, was growing stronger:
+sometimes he wondered whether it was the mere contradictory, defiant
+obstinacy of the discouraged admirer; and, certainly, there was in his
+devotion a strong infusion of a longing to score off his tyrannising
+wife and the fortunate, amiable Percy. Nigel's jealousy of Percy--and
+not of Percy only, but in a less degree of most men Bertha knew--was not
+very far behind his wife's jealousy of him. A morbid propensity that
+causes great suffering in domestic life is often curiously infectious to
+the very person for whom it creates most suffering. Nigel sometimes
+found himself positively imitating Mary in many little ways; watching,
+and listening and asking indirect questions to find things out: if he
+had dared he would have made Bertha a violent scene every time her
+husband came into the house! He tried to hide it and had made Percy like
+him. But Bertha could see perfectly well the tinge of jealousy for every
+other friend of hers, and an inclination to crab and run down and sit
+out, especially, any smart young man. This neither amused nor annoyed
+her. She did not think about it.
+
+Nigel really felt, besides, that most cruel of all remorse--_selfish_
+remorse, that he had cheated himself in having thrown over love for
+money. For his was not, after all, a mere smug, second-rate nature which
+gold, and what it meant, in however great quantities, could really ever
+satisfy. Putting aside the fact that his wife irritated him nearly to
+madness, even if he had been allowed to live alone, and perfectly
+free,--wealth and its gratifications would never have made him happy.
+He had mistaken himself in a passing fit of despair and cupidity, aided
+by the torturing agonies of being deeply in debt all round, and the
+ghastly fear of a social smash.
+
+He had a longing to feel at ease; he had a love of pleasure, too, of
+freedom, of idleness; and the sort of talent that consists in
+brilliantly describing what one could do and what one would like to do:
+in sketching schemes, verbally--literary, financial, artistic, no matter
+what--with so much charm, such aplomb that everyone believed in him, and
+enjoyed to hear his projects, but he had not either the genius that
+compels its owner to work nor the steadiness, the determination of
+character that makes a man a successful drudge, who gets there in the
+end.
+
+Nigel is being rather severely analysed. But let it be understood that
+with it all, besides having very great charm of look and manner, wit and
+high spirits, in certain ways he was quite a good fellow: he had no
+sneers for the more fortunate, no envy, nothing petty: he was
+warm-hearted, generous even--when it did not cross some desire of his;
+lavish with money, both on himself and on anyone who aided his pleasure,
+and quite kind and tender-hearted in that he couldn't bear to see
+anyone suffer--even Mary, with whom, as a matter of fact, he was very
+weak.
+
+The saint thinks only of the claims of others: the criminal solely of
+his own. Between these extremes, there are, obviously, countless shades.
+Unfortunately, Nigel had this in common with the worst; that when he
+really wanted anything, everything had to go to the wall: all rights of
+others, principles and pity were forgotten, everything was thrown
+over--everyone pushed out of the way. He became unscrupulous. So when he
+had required money he threw over his first love who, he knew, adored
+him; now when he found out the mistake and was seriously in love with
+Bertha, he would have thrown over anything on earth to get her, and
+admired himself for doing it. He thought himself now noble-spirited and
+sporting. He would have run away with her at any moment, even if he
+thought they would have two or three hundred a year to live on, or
+nothing at all. Not only that, he would have been devoted to her and
+worshipped her and never reproached her--and been faithful to her
+too--until he fell in love with someone else, which might, or might not
+have happened.
+
+Often he wondered why he cared so much more for Bertha now that she was
+twenty-eight than when she was eighteen. Perhaps she had really
+increased in charm: certainly she had in magnetism and in knowledge of
+the world, and she was just as attractive, a sweet little creature whom
+one wanted to protect and yet whom, in a way, one could lean on and rely
+on, too. She was so subtle, so strangely wise and sensible--she seemed
+to know everything while having the naïve, unconscious air of a person
+who knows next to nothing. And all these gifts she used--for what? She
+made Percy happy, she was charming and kind, clear-sighted, indulgent
+(if a little cynical), and always amusing; full of dash and spirit, and
+yet with the most feminine softness, and above all that invaluable
+instinct, always, for doing and saying the right thing ... and (he knew
+instinctively) a genius for love. ...
+
+Yes, he thought, she was an extraordinary woman! There was nobody
+like her: in his opinion she was thrown away on Percy. But _she_
+did not think so, and he envied, hated the husband, with an absurd
+bitterness--envied him for several reasons, but chiefly because Nigel
+had now developed what had been in abeyance at the time of their
+youthful engagement--that real sensuous discrimination, which has
+comparatively little to do with taste for beauty, that power of
+weighing amorous values, given only to the authentic Sybarite.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the day arranged for the Russian Ballet party, Nigel made an excuse
+for seeing Bertha to arrange tactics with regard to Rupert and Madeline.
+She told him she was expecting the Futurist painter, the Italian,
+Semolini, but she received him first.
+
+"About Rupert, now," said Nigel. "Isn't it odd?--I always think of
+Rupert with a rapier concealed somewhere about his person. Ruperts and
+rapiers are inseparably associated in my mind. Well--shall I, after
+supper, drive back with Rupert and praise up Miss Irwin--or not?"
+
+"Yes, if you think it is a good thing."
+
+"_If_ I think it's a good thing! Nothing in the world has such a good
+effect on a man as the admiration of another man for the girl he
+admires."
+
+"But don't do too much digging in the ribs--don't overdo it. Rupert,
+though he doesn't carry a rapier, isn't quite a modern cynical man, and
+with all his affectations I believe he has a very sweet nature. He'll be
+good to Madeline--I want her to be happy."
+
+"Well, at any rate, if she likes him she may as well have her fling at
+him," said Nigel carelessly.
+
+Bertha looked annoyed.
+
+"That isn't the point only--silly! If she liked _you_ ever so much and
+you were free, do you suppose I would take her side--help her?"
+
+"I hope not," said Nigel insinuatingly, suddenly changing his seat to
+one close to Bertha.
+
+She looked calmly away, as if bored.
+
+He saw it was the wrong tone and stood up, with his back to the
+mantelpiece, looking at her.
+
+"I like your frock, Bertha."
+
+She looked down at it.
+
+"You have an extraordinary air of not knowing what you have got on. I
+never saw a woman look so unconscious of her dress. There's a good deal
+of the art that conceals art about it, I fancy. Your clothes are
+attractive--in an impressionist way!"
+
+"The only thing I think of about my dresses, is that they should make
+people admire me--not my dressmaker," said Bertha candidly. "I don't
+care for much variety, and I leave real smartness to Madeline and the
+other tall, slim girls. My figure is so wrong! How dare I be short and
+tiny, and yet not thin, nowadays?"
+
+"You're exquisite--at least in my opinion. I've never been an admirer of
+the lamp-post as the type of a woman's figure."
+
+She looked bored again. "Oh, please don't! I don't care what you
+like--so long as you like Mary, who was very graceful and _chic_, I
+thought, the other night at the opera."
+
+It was Nigel's turn to look bored.
+
+"Yes. ... What is this chap like, this Semolini man?"
+
+"He's not like anything. He's a nice little thing."
+
+"Signor Semolini," announced the servant.
+
+A very small, very brown young man came in, clean-shaven, with large
+bright blue eyes, black hair, and a single eyeglass with a black ribbon.
+
+They greeted him cordially, convinced him that he was welcome, made him
+feel at home, gave him tea. It was his first visit, but no one was ever
+shy long with Bertha. He soon began chattering very volubly in a sort of
+English, which, if not exactly broken, was decidedly cracked.
+
+"I like those things of yours--at the gallery, I mean," said Nigel
+patronisingly. He was always patronising to all artists, even when he
+didn't know them, as in this case, to be cranks. "I think they're
+top-hole; simply _awfully_ good, I thought. I didn't quite understand
+them, though, I admit."
+
+"But you saw ze idea?"
+
+"What idea?"
+
+"Why, the simultaneity of the plastic states of mind in the art? That is
+our intoxicating object, you know."
+
+"Oh, that! Ah, yes--yes, quite so. I thought it was that." Nigel looked
+knowing, and shook his head wisely.
+
+Under this treatment the young Italian became very animated.
+
+"You were right! You see, it is ze expansion of coloured forms in space,
+combined with the co-penetration of plastic masses which forms what we
+call futurism."
+
+"Oh yes, of course," said Nigel. "It would be. I mean to
+say--well!--almost anyone would guess that, wouldn't they?"
+
+Semolini turned to Bertha, talking more and more quickly, and
+gesticulating with a little piece of bread and butter in his right hand.
+"It is ze entire liberation from the laws of logical perspective that
+makes movement--the Orphic cubism--if you will allow me to say so!"
+
+"Oh, certainly," smiled Bertha. "_Do_ say so!"
+
+"Orphic cubism! I say! Isn't that a bit strong before a lady?" murmured
+Nigel.
+
+Semolini laughed heartily without understanding a word, and continued to
+address himself to Bertha, whose eyes looked sympathetic. "It is
+painting, pure painting--painting new masses with elements borrowed
+chiefly from the reality of mental vision!" cried the artist.
+
+"Funny! Just what I was going to say!" said Nigel.
+
+Bertha contented herself with encouraging smiles.
+
+The young Italian was due to lecture on his views, and had to leave. At
+least three appointments were made with him, none of which Nigel had the
+slightest intention of keeping--to "go into the matter more
+thoroughly"--then Semolini vanished, charmed with his reception.
+
+"Good heavens! will someone take me away and serve me up on a cold
+plate?" said Nigel, directly he had gone. "Look here, Bertha, is the
+chap off his head, a fraud, or serious?"
+
+"Awfully serious. Are you going to see him to look into the matter?"
+
+"I _think_ not," said Nigel, "at least I don't want to see his pictures,
+face to face, until I've insured my life. I must think of my widow and
+the children."
+
+Here Nigel's young brother, Charlie, arrived. He was a slimmer, younger,
+but less good-looking edition of Nigel. He had just come down from
+Oxford, was pleasant, gentle, and appeared to be trying to repress a
+natural inclination to be a nut. He called on Bertha in the hope of
+seeing Madeline.
+
+"I say, the Futurist chap has just been here," said Nigel to Charlie.
+
+"Good! What's he like?"
+
+"A little bit of all right. Frightfully fascinating, as girls say," said
+Nigel.
+
+"He's not so bad," said Bertha mildly.
+
+"Isn't he? I've seen the pictures. But what _is_ he like? The sort of
+chap you'd like to be seen with?" asked the young man.
+
+"Well--not acutely," replied Nigel.
+
+"Very dark, is he? quite black?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Good teeth?"
+
+"Yes, several."
+
+"Clean-shaven?"
+
+"Not very."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"But is he really an Italian?" asked Charlie.
+
+"Shouldn't think so," said Nigel carelessly.
+
+"What then?" asked Bertha, laughing.
+
+"Scotch, probably."
+
+"Very likely, if he's clever. They say all the clever people come from
+Scotland," Charlie remarked.
+
+"And the cleverer they are, the sooner they come, I suppose," said
+Bertha. "Fancy the MacFuturist in a kilt!"
+
+"But where does he come from ... where does he really live?" continued
+Charlie, who seemed to have a special, suspicious curiosity on the
+subject.
+
+"Rapallo," said Bertha.
+
+"Where's that?"
+
+"The first turning to the left on the map as you go to Monte Carlo,"
+said Nigel.
+
+"But what _did_ he say--was he very odd and peculiar?"
+
+"Oh, he carried on like one o'clock about Futurism," said Bertha.
+
+"I thought every moment would be my next," said Nigel.
+
+"What nonsense you're both talking," said Bertha.
+
+"Yes, and if Charlie thinks he's going to sit me out by asking
+questions, he's jolly well mistaken," Nigel said. "Look here, old chap,
+Bertha's going out. I know she wants to get into her glad raiment. I'll
+drop you."
+
+"Right-o!" said Charlie, jumping up.
+
+They took their leave. Bertha looked amused.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+RUSSIAN BALLET
+
+
+Arrangements had been made that Mrs. Nigel Hillier was to have a little
+dinner at home for her mother (with whom Nigel was not supposed to be on
+terms); and she and her parent were to go to the St. James's Theatre,
+for which two stalls had been purchased. Nigel pretended he was dining
+with an old friend at the club.
+
+Coming in brightly, but, as usual, losing half his personality in the
+hall, he found Mary at seven o'clock sitting in the little boudoir, in
+the usual arm-chair, looking our for him, not, apparently, thinking of
+dressing for dinner.
+
+"Hallo, Mary!" he said. "Hadn't you better get ready for your mother?"
+
+"No," she responded rather coldly and bitingly, "I've put mother off."
+
+He glanced at her with self-control. She looked, he thought, far more
+bitter than usual.
+
+"That's a pity, because you will be alone--dear. Besides, the stalls
+will be wasted."
+
+"No, they won't," she said. "You'll stay at home with me, and take me to
+the St. James's. You can easily put off your man at the club." She
+looked him full in the eyes.
+
+Colour rose to his face and then faded away.
+
+"I'm sorry, my dear, but that's impossible."
+
+"It isn't impossible--you mean you don't want to do it. ... Oh, do
+please--please, Nigel!" She came towards him and played with his
+tie--the trick of hers that he hated most.
+
+She mistook his silence, which was hesitation as to what plan to adopt,
+for vacillation, and thought she was going to win. ...
+
+"Oh, 'oo will, 'oo will!" she exclaimed, with a rather sickly imitation
+of a spoilt child, with her head on one side. It was a pose that did not
+suit her in any way.
+
+He drew back; the shiny red hair gave him a feeling of positive nausea.
+She was attempting to defeat him--she was trying to be coquettish--poor
+thing! ... She suspected something; she hadn't put off her mother for
+nothing. ... He was going to the Russian Ballet with Bertha--how could
+he leave Bertha in the lurch? With Madeline and Rupert, too--what harm
+was there in it? (The fact that he heartily wished there _was_ had
+really nothing to do with the point.)
+
+Husbands and wives usually know when opposition is useless. Mary
+privately gave it up when she heard Nigel speak firmly and quickly--not
+angrily.
+
+"I've made the arrangement now, and I can't back out."
+
+"And what about me?" she said, in a shrill voice.
+
+He went out of the room hastily, saying:
+
+"I can't help it now; if you alter your arrangements at the last
+minute--stop at home and read a book, or take some friend to the St.
+James's."
+
+He ran upstairs like a hunted hare; he was afraid of being late. He had
+got his table at the Carlton.
+
+Left alone in the boudoir, a terrible expression came over Mary's face.
+She said to herself quite loudly:
+
+"He is not going to the club; he'd give it up if he were. It's something
+about that woman. ..."
+
+A wave of hysteria came over her, also a half-hearted hope of succeeding
+still by a new kind of scene. ...
+
+There were two large china pots on the mantelpiece; she threw them,
+first one, then the other, at the half-open door, smashing them to
+atoms. Excited at her own violence, she ran upstairs screaming,
+regardless of appearance:
+
+"You sha'n't go! You sha'n't go! I hate you. I'll kill myself.
+Oh--oh--oh! Nigel! Nigel!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At eight to the minute Nigel in the Palm Court received Bertha Kellynch
+dressed in black, Madeline in white, and Rupert Denison with a little
+mauve orchid in his buttonhole.
+
+The dinner, subtly ordered, was a complete success, and Madeline Irwin
+was in a dream of happiness, but Bertha was sorry to see that Nigel, who
+was usually remarkably moderate in the matter of champagne, and to-night
+drank even less than usual, had the whole evening a trembling hand. Even
+at the ballet, where he was more than usually ready to enjoy every shade
+of the enjoyable, he was not quite free from nervous agitation. He did
+not drive Rupert home, but let Rupert drop him in Grosvenor Street at
+twelve-thirty--for a slight supper was inevitable and Rupert had taken
+them to the Savoy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. Hillier was in bed and asleep. The maid said she had been ill and
+excited. The maid, frightened, had sent for the doctor. His remedy had
+succeeded in calming her.
+
+The next day Mary seemed subdued, and was amiable. Both ignored the
+quarrel. Nigel believed it would not occur again. He thought his
+firmness had won and that she was defeated. He did not understand her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+PERCY
+
+
+"I've had such a lovely letter from Rupert, Bertha. I'm so excited, I
+can't read it almost!"
+
+Bertha held out her hand. Madeline was looking agitated.
+
+"He says," said Madeline, looking closely at the letter in her
+short-sighted way, "that he wishes he could burn me like spice on the
+altar of a life-long friendship! Fancy!"
+
+"Rather indefinite, isn't it?"
+
+"Oh, but listen!" And Madeline read aloud eagerly: "_Yesterday evening
+was perfect: but to-day and for several days I shall be unable to see
+you. Why is a feast day always followed by a fast?_"
+
+"Is it Doncaster to-morrow?" asked Bertha.
+
+"Don't be absurd, that's nothing to do with it. Listen to this. _What a
+curiously interesting nature you have! Am I not right when I say that I
+fancy in time, as you develop and grow older, you may look at life eye
+to eye with me?_"
+
+"Madeline dear, _please_ don't mistake that for a proposal. I assure you
+that it isn't one."
+
+Madeline looked up sharply. "Who said it was? But, anyhow, it shows
+interest. He must be rather keen--I mean interested--in me. It's all
+very well to say it means nothing, but for a man nowadays to sit down
+and write a long letter all about nothing at all, it must have some
+significance. Look how easily he might have rung up! I know you're
+afraid of encouraging me too much, and it's very kind of you--but I must
+confess I _do_ think that letters mean a great deal. Think of the
+trouble he's taken. And there's a great deal about himself in it, too."
+
+"Of course, Madeline, I don't deny that it does show interest, and he
+probably must be a little in love with someone--perhaps with himself--to
+write a letter about nothing. As you say, it's unusual nowadays. But you
+mustn't forget that, though Rupert's young, he belongs to the '95
+period. Things were very different then. People thought nothing of
+writing a long letter; and a telegram about nothing was considered quite
+advanced and American."
+
+"Oh, bother!" said Madeline, "I hate being told about the period he
+belongs to. It makes it seem like ancient history. Listen to what he
+says about you--such lovely things! '_Mrs. Kellynch is a delightful
+contrast to you, and is all that is charming and brilliant, in a
+different way. Is she not one of those (alas, too few) who are always
+followed by the flutes of the pagan world?_'"
+
+"That's really very sweet of him. I say, I wonder what it means
+exactly?"
+
+"I have no idea. But it just shows, doesn't it?"
+
+With a satisfied smile, Madeline put the letter away. Bertha did not
+press to see it, but remarked: "I see he didn't sign himself very
+affectionately. Evidently there's nothing compromising in the letter."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"Because you put it away. Otherwise you would have shown it to me.
+Nobody cares to show an uncompromising love-letter--with a lukewarm
+signature."
+
+"At any rate," said Madeline, gliding over the point and leaving the
+letter in its cover, "your taking us out last night was a very great
+help. I feel I've made progress; he thinks more of me."
+
+"Yes, I thought it would be a good thing to do. Now you'd better not
+answer the letter, and please don't show any anxiety if you don't see
+him for a little while, either."
+
+"I sha'n't be a bit anxious, Bertha, especially if it's only racing, or
+something of that sort. Or, in fact, anything, unless I get afraid he's
+seeing Miss Chivvey. Do you ever think that Rupert still takes an
+interest in Miss Chivvey?"
+
+"A little, but I don't think it matters. I think she's needed as a
+contrast to you. She surprises and shocks him, and that amuses him, but
+she isn't his real taste. I don't think Miss Chivvey's dangerous,
+seriously. She uses cheap scent."
+
+"Oh!" cried Madeline, delighted. "There's nothing so awful as cheap
+scent!"
+
+"Except expensive scent, because it's stronger," said Bertha.
+
+Madeline looked at her admiringly.
+
+"How extraordinary you are, Bertha! It's wonderfully sweet of you to
+take such an interest in my wretched little romance. You might have so
+many of your own, if you cared to."
+
+"Ah, but I don't care to. I'm rather exacting in a way, but I don't want
+variety. I've no desire for an audience. I don't want a little of
+everybody. All I want is the whole of one person."
+
+"Is that all! Well, you've got it," replied Madeline.
+
+"I hope so," she answered, rather seriously. "I'm not altogether
+satisfied. I can't settle down to the idea of a dull, humdrum sort of
+life--and of Percy's being fond of me casually."
+
+"Oh, good gracious, I'm sure he isn't casual! What a strange idea of
+yours!"
+
+"I hope I'm wrong. I believe I want something that's very nearly
+impossible. I've always had a sort of ideal or dream of making an
+ordinary average married life into a romance."
+
+"Well, and can't it be?"
+
+"I don't really see why it shouldn't. But there's no doubt there are
+immense difficulties in the way. It seems to be necessary, first of all,
+for there to be not only one exceptional temperament, but two. And
+that's a good deal to expect. Of course, the obvious danger is the
+probability of people getting tired of anything they've got. I'm afraid
+that's human nature. The toys the children see in the shop-window always
+seem much less wonderful when they're home in the nursery. As a brother
+of mine used to say a little vulgarly, 'You don't run after an omnibus
+when once you've caught it.'"
+
+"Perhaps not."
+
+"As soon as you belong to a person, obviously, Madeline, they don't
+value you _quite_ in the same kind of way. The glamour seems to go."
+
+"But you don't want necessarily always to be _run after_, surely? You
+want to be treasured and valued--all that sort of thing."
+
+"Yes, I know! But my ideal would be that there should be just as much
+excitement and romance and _fun_ after marriage as before--if it were
+possible."
+
+"Oh, good heavens, Bertha! then, if one were to go by that horrible
+theory of your brother's, one ought never to marry the person one loves,
+if one wants to keep them."
+
+"No, in theory, one ought not. But then, where are you if he goes and
+marries someone else? After all, you'd rather he got tired of _you_ than
+of the other person! Wouldn't you prefer he should make _your_ life
+miserable than any other woman's? Besides, one must take a risk. It's
+worth it."
+
+"I should think it is, indeed!" cried Madeline. "Why, I would marry
+Rupert if I thought I should never see him again after a month or
+two--if I knew for a fact he would get tired of me!"
+
+"Of course you would, and quite right too. But remember people are not
+all alike. There are any number of men who are absolutely incapable of
+being really in love with anyone who belongs to them. They simply can't
+help it. It's the instinct of the chase. And it's mere waste of time and
+energy to attempt to change them."
+
+"Are you speaking of men or husbands?"
+
+"Either, really. But don't let's forget that there are a great many
+others, on the other hand, who care for nothing and no one who isn't
+their own. Collectors, rather than hunters. Surely you've noticed that,
+Madeline? It's a passion for property. The kind of man who thinks _his_
+house, _his_ pictures, _his_ cook, even his mother, everything connected
+with him must be better than the possessions of anyone else. Well, this
+kind of man is quite capable of remaining very devoted to his own wife,
+and in love with her, if she's only decently nice to him; and even if
+she's not. I mean the sort of man one sometimes sees at a party,
+pointing out some utterly insignificant person there, and declaring that
+Gladys or Jane, or whoever it is, takes the shine out of everyone else,
+and that there's no one else in the room to touch her. His wife, of
+course. I don't mean out of devotion--that's another, finer
+temperament--but simply and solely because she belongs to him."
+
+"Well, Bertha, I don't care what his reason is, I _like_ that man!"
+
+"Oh, rather! So do I. And very often he's not a bit appreciated; though
+he would be by us. Perhaps the most usual case of all is for the
+husband, if he's married for love, to remain in love for the first two
+or three years, and for the love then to turn gradually into a warm
+friendship, or even a deep affection, which may go on growing
+deeper--it's only the romance and the glamour and sparkle that seems to
+go--the excitement. And that's such a pity. I can't help thinking in
+many cases it really needn't be. More often than not, I believe, it's
+the woman's mistake. Just at first, she's liable to take too much
+advantage of the new sort of power she feels."
+
+"Do you mean, Bertha, that the woman generally doesn't take enough
+trouble with the house to make it pleasant for him at home--and all
+that?"
+
+"I _didn't_ mean that, though it might be so. But sometimes it's just
+the other way. More often than not she takes a great deal too much
+trouble about the home, and bothers him about it. There's far too much
+domesticity. It's like playing at houses at first, but soon it grows
+tedious. At any rate the whole thing is worth studying very deeply. I
+can tell you I haven't given it up yet."
+
+"You? Oh, Bertha, I can't think what fault you have to find. You, as you
+say, certainly are exacting."
+
+"I blame myself, solely. I feel that, somehow or other, I've allowed
+things to get too prosaic. Percy takes everything for granted:
+everything goes on wheels. Of course, if I were satisfied to settle down
+at twenty-eight with complete contentment at the prospect of a humdrum
+existence, it would be all right; but I'm not. In another few years
+Percy will be getting on very well as a barrister, taking himself
+seriously, and regarding me just as part of the furniture at home. You
+know he always calls me a canary; that shows his point of view. Well,
+then, he might get a little interested in a wilder kind of bird, and I
+shouldn't like it!"
+
+"What would your idea be, then? Would you flirt to make him jealous?"
+
+"No, I certainly shouldn't. That's frightfully obvious and common. If I
+ever did flirt, it wouldn't be for such a silly reason as that. It would
+be for my own amusement and for nothing else, but I don't think I ever
+shall. I think it's a fatal mistake for a woman to lower herself in any
+way in the other person's eyes. Her lasting hold and best one, is that
+he must think her perfection; it's the safest link with a really nice
+man. Anyone can be worse than you are, but it's not easy when you take
+the line that none can be _better_! because no one else is going to try!
+But if, after all, he still gets tired of her, as they sometimes do,
+well--it's very hard--but I am afraid she must manage badly."
+
+"I never should have dreamed you thought of all these things, Bertha.
+You seem so serene and happy."
+
+"I am. It's the one subject I ever worry about. I'm always prepared for
+the worst."
+
+"And I'm quite sure you've no cause to be. Why not wait till trouble
+comes?" suggested Madeline.
+
+"Why, then it would be too late. No, I want to ward it off long before
+there's any danger."
+
+"I think it's very unlike you--almost morbid--bothering about
+possibilities that will never happen."
+
+"I daresay it is, in a way. But, you know, I fancy I've second sight
+sometimes. What I feel with us is that things are too smooth, too calm,
+a little dull. Something ought to happen."
+
+"You're looking so pretty, too," said Madeline rather irrelevantly.
+
+"I'm glad to hear it; but I only want one person to think so."
+
+"But it's obvious that he does; he's very proud of you."
+
+"I sometimes think he's too much accustomed to me. He takes me as a
+matter of course."
+
+"If that is so, I daresay you'll be able to alter matters," said
+Madeline, getting up to go.
+
+"Yes, I daresay I shall; it only needs a little readjusting," Bertha
+said.
+
+They shook hands in cordial fashion. They did not belong to the gushing
+school, and, notwithstanding their really deep mutual affection, neither
+would ever have dreamed of kissing the other.
+
+As soon as Madeline had gone Bertha went and looked steadily and
+seriously in the glass, for some considerable time. She thought on the
+whole that it was true that she was looking pretty: on this subject she
+was perfectly calm, cool and unbiassed, as if judging the appearance of
+a stranger. For, though she naturally liked to be admired, as all women
+do, she was entirely without that fluffy sort of vanity, that weak
+conceit, so indulgent to itself, that makes nearly all pretty women
+incapable of perceiving when they are beginning to go off, or unwilling
+to own it to themselves.
+
+The one person for whose admiration and interest she cared for more and
+more, her Percy, she fancied was growing rather cooler. This crumpled
+rose-leaf distressed her extremely.
+
+At this moment he arrived home. She heard his voice and his step, and
+waited for him to come up, with an increasing vividness of colour and
+expression, with a look of excited animation, that in so sophisticated a
+woman was certainly, after ten years, a remarkable tribute to a
+husband.
+
+Percy, who was never very quick, was this evening much longer coming
+upstairs than usual. He was looking at the letters in the hall. With his
+long, legal-looking, handsome face, his even features, his fine figure
+and his expression of mild self-control, and the large, high brow, he
+had a certain look of importance. He appeared to have more personality
+then he really had. His manner was impressive, even when one knew--as
+Bertha certainly did--that he was the mildest, the most amiable and
+good-natured of serious barristers.
+
+With one of those impulses that are almost impossible to account for,
+Percy took one of the letters up before the others. It was directed in
+type. He half opened it, then put it in his pocket. He felt anxious to
+read it; for some quite inexplicable reason he felt there was something
+about it momentous, and of interest. It was not a circular, or a bill.
+It made him feel uncomfortable. After waiting a moment he opened it and
+read part of it. Then he replaced it in his pocket, and ran up to his
+room, taking the other unopened letters with him.
+
+"Percy!" called Bertha, as he passed the drawing-room.
+
+"I shall be down in a few minutes," he called out.
+
+He went upstairs and shut himself into his room.
+
+She also felt unaccountably uncomfortable and anxious, as if something
+had happened, or was going to happen. Why was Percy so long?
+
+When he came down at last she gave him his tea and a cigarette and
+noticed, or perhaps imagined, that he looked different from usual. He
+was pale. Yes, he was distinctly a little pale. Poor Percy!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Instead of telling him he was not looking very well, and asking him what
+was the matter, complaining that he had not taken any notice of her, or
+behaving otherwise idiotically, after the usual fashion of affectionate
+wives, she remained silent, and waited till he seemed more as usual.
+
+Then he said: "Has anyone been here to-day?"
+
+"No one but Madeline. She's only just gone."
+
+"Oh yes--been out at all?"
+
+"I went out this morning for a little while."
+
+He seemed absent.
+
+"You enjoyed yourself last night, didn't you?" he asked.
+
+"Oh yes, it was rather fun. Yet, somehow, the Russian Ballet never
+leaves me in good spirits for the next day. It doesn't really leave a
+pleasant impression somehow--an agreeable flavour."
+
+"Doesn't it--why?"
+
+"One wants to see it, one is interested, from curiosity, and then,
+afterwards, there's a sort of Dead Sea-fruitish, sour-grapes,
+autumn-leaves, sort of feeling! It's too remote from real life and yet
+it hasn't an uplifting effect. At any rate it always depresses me."
+
+He gave her a rather searching look, and then said:
+
+"Did Hillier like it?"
+
+"I think he enjoys everything. He's always so cheery."
+
+"And to-night we're dining at home?"
+
+"Oh yes, I hope so. We'll have a quiet evening."
+
+After a moment Percy said, in a slightly constrained way:
+
+"I think I shall have to go out for half-an-hour. I want to see a man at
+the club."
+
+"Oh, must you? But it's raining so much. Why don't you ring him up and
+ask him to come here?"
+
+She was anxious not to betray a womanish fear that he might be getting
+influenza, as she knew that nothing would annoy him so much as bothering
+about him.
+
+"No; I must go out."
+
+She dropped the subject. He took up a new book she had been reading and
+talked about it somewhat pompously and at great length. The whole time
+it struck her he was not like himself. Something was wrong. He was
+either worried, or going to be ill. He had either a temper or a
+temperature. But she did not refer to it. Dinner was sometimes a good
+cure for such indispositions.
+
+He continued to make conversation in a slightly formal way until he went
+out. After he had gone she observed to herself that his manner had
+varied from polite absent-mindedness to slight irritability. He had gone
+out without telling her anything about his plans. He had not even kissed
+her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+AN ANONYMOUS LETTER
+
+
+Mrs. Hillier habitually had breakfast in her own room, for no particular
+reason, but because Nigel encouraged her in this luxurious manner of
+beginning the day. He said a woman ought not to have to come down until
+the day had been a little warmed, and got ready for her; that she should
+have time to choose her clothes to harmonise with her moods--time, after
+a look at the weather, and hearing the news of the day, to settle on
+what the moods should be. For a man, on the contrary, he thought it
+ridiculous and weakly idle--indolent in a way not suited to a man. A
+man, according to Nigel, ought no more to have his breakfast in bed than
+to come down with a bow of blue ribbon in his hair, or to go and lie
+down before dressing for a dinner-party.
+
+However, one morning it darted suddenly into Mary's head that Nigel, on
+going downstairs to breakfast, while she did not, had nearly an hour to
+himself. What a horrible idea! What injustice to her! And it occurred to
+her that for years she had never seen Nigel open his letters. She had,
+indeed, not the slightest idea what his manner at breakfast was like.
+Was this fair? He always managed to get out of any invitation to the
+country which included them both.
+
+As soon as she had thought of this, she rang for her maid, and dressed
+in the wildest hurry, as though she had to catch a train: leaving her
+tray on the little table untouched, the maid running after her to fasten
+hooks, and buttons, to stick in pins, and tie ribbons, as though they
+were playing a game.
+
+Mary won. She was flying out of the room when the maid ran after her,
+saying:
+
+"Madame, your tortoiseshell comb is falling out of your hair; won't you
+let me finish dressing it?"
+
+"Don't worry, Searle. What _does_ it matter?"
+
+She flew downstairs.
+
+Nigel looked up with that intense surprise that no one can succeed in
+disguising as the acutest pleasure.
+
+"Well, by Jove," he said, in his quick way, which was so cool and casual
+that it almost had the effect of a drawl. He looked at her closely, and
+said reassuringly:
+
+"After all, it may not be true; and if it is, it may be for the best."
+
+"What may not be true, Nigel. What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, this sudden bad news."
+
+"What news? There is no news."
+
+"Isn't there? By Jove, this is splendid! Just come down to have
+breakfast with me, then! Capital. What will you have, dear?"
+
+He rang the bell.
+
+"Are you sorry to see me?" she asked, darting looks at the envelopes by
+his plate, looks that were almost sharp enough to open them.
+
+"Sorry to see you? Don't be absurd! Your comb's falling into the sugar
+basin, and I shouldn't think it would improve the taste of the coffee.
+Look out! Help! Saved! Mary dear, why don't you do your hair?"
+
+"I was afraid you might go out before I came down."
+
+"Why, I'm not going out for ages, yet."
+
+He gave her his letters in their envelopes, with a half-smile.
+
+"I don't want to see them," she said. "Why do you pass me the letters,
+as though you thought I came down for that?"
+
+Nigel pretended not to hear. He opened the newspaper.
+
+"I thought," she went on, "it seemed rather a shame that I should always
+have breakfast upstairs, and leave you alone, without anyone to keep you
+company."
+
+"Awfully kind of you, but, really, I don't mind a bit."
+
+He gave a quick look round the room. He had again that curious, bitter
+sensation of being trapped. Was he now not even going to have this
+pleasant morning hour to himself?
+
+Probably there was not a prettier room in London than this one. It had
+the pale pink and green, blue and mauve colouring of spring flowers; the
+curved shapes of the dainty artificial creatures who lived for fine and
+trivial pleasure only; the best Louis Quinze decoration. And to-day it
+was a lovely day; and the warm west wind blew in the breath of the pink
+and blue hyacinths in the window-boxes. There was that pleasant gay
+buzzing sound of London in June outside in Grosvenor Street: the growing
+hum of the season, that made one feel right in it, even if one wasn't.
+Everything was peacefully happy, harsh and hard things seemed unreal;
+the world seemed made for birds and butterflies, light sentiment,
+colour, perfume and gay music. In this London life seemed like a Watteau
+picture.
+
+Nigel saw that he had never yet realised why he was so fond of this
+room, where he always had breakfast. It was because there he was free,
+and alone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Now he was determined that there should be no quarrelling to-day. It is
+only fair to Nigel to say that he was always quite determined to keep
+away the quarrels; and fought against them. Placed as they were, with
+such infinitely more possibilities of happiness than nine _ménages_ out
+of ten--though leaving out unfortunately one, and that the most
+important part--love--it was terrible that they should quarrel. He was
+so easy-going, so ready to ignore her faults, to make the best of things
+as they were. And she liked to quarrel, merely because it made her, for
+the time, of importance to him. In fact, being madly in love with him,
+and both wildly and stupidly jealous, to get up a quarrel was almost the
+only satisfaction she ever had, the only effect she ever produced now.
+
+Since the other evening, when she had behaved with entire want of
+self-control, or, perhaps, rather with a kind of instinctive
+premeditated hysteria, she appeared to recognise that manner had not
+been a real success. She had tried, at all costs, to prevent him going
+to the theatre, and had failed.
+
+The next day they ignored the trouble; and for some time afterwards she
+seemed pleasanter, while he was kind and attentive, believing she had
+really forgotten her grievance.
+
+On the contrary, it was more firmly fixed in her mind than before. She
+was absolutely determined that, on no excuse whatever, should he
+continue to see Bertha Kellynch.
+
+She had found out that the host of the evening at the ballet had been
+Rupert Denison, and that Madeline Irwin, Bertha and Nigel were the
+guests. For more than a week Mary had entirely given up the quarrelsome
+and nagging mood, so that Nigel believed she no longer had this absurd
+fancy about Bertha. As a matter of fact, for the first time, she had
+really been dissembling, had spent a good deal of time and money in
+finding out how both Bertha and Nigel spent their time. What little she
+had found out had given her an entirely false impression, and that had
+resulted in a very desperate determination. She meant to carry it out
+this morning. But she wanted to talk a little more to Nigel first.
+
+"Nigel dear, you know what you said the other evening about giving
+parties?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I've been thinking, perhaps, dear, you're right. I find I've dropped
+nearly all your old friends. I think we'd better give one big party--a
+reception, I think. Our drawing-room has never been seen yet."
+
+Nigel looked up, really pleased to see her taking a more normal sort of
+interest in her existence.
+
+"By Jove! I am glad. That's capital! Yes, of course. To start with we'll
+give an At Home, as they call 'em."
+
+"Do you think there ought to be any sort of entertainment, Nigel?"
+
+"Well, just as you like. You said you didn't want music. ... How would
+it be to have a band to play the whole evening?"
+
+"Yes, that would do very well. Oh, and, Nigel! I find I've been so
+careless and forgotten all the addresses and lost the cards of people
+that we used to know. I shall want someone to help me."
+
+"Yes, I suppose Mademoiselle won't do."
+
+"Oh no, she's no use. I shall engage a typewriter to go through the list
+with me and send out cards."
+
+"Right-o! good idea."
+
+He was quite surprised and satisfied, and thought to himself how wise it
+was of him the other day to ignore the absurd fit of excitement when she
+had smashed the vases. Certainly she had been better ever since.
+
+"You'd like me to help you with the list, wouldn't you, dear?" he said
+presently.
+
+She gave him a sharp look.
+
+"I suppose we'd better ask everybody we know to this sort of thing," she
+said.
+
+"Your mother and I are not on the best of terms, I'm afraid. But you
+must be sure to ask her, and we'll make it up."
+
+Nigel thought to himself that really would be only fair, considering
+that he had practically and ingeniously invented the quarrel on purpose;
+in order that he could have an excuse to go out when Mary's mother came
+to see her. But, really, Nigel liked her personally and knew that she
+liked him, and that she was not without sympathy for anyone who had to
+live with her daughter.
+
+"I suppose you'll want me to ask the Kellynches?" asked Mary, in a
+rather low voice.
+
+"It would look natural if you did. But, really, I have seen so little of
+them for the last few years that you can please yourself about it."
+
+"You've accepted several invitations from them," said Mary, in rather a
+cutting tone. "Perhaps it would be as well to return them."
+
+"I don't think I've ever dined there," said Nigel casually.
+
+"Didn't you meet them that night at the Russian Ballet? Don't deny it! I
+know you all went to supper at the Savoy."
+
+"Who's denying it! You know that Denison asked me to supper at the
+Savoy, and that Madeline Irwin was there, and Mrs. Kellynch."
+
+"Quite a nice little _partie carrée_," said Mary, unable to keep up her
+plan of self-control, and speaking in a trembling voice.
+
+"Now, Mary, don't be absurd! You know it's hardly usual for a bachelor
+like Rupert to ask three women or three men to supper!"
+
+"I suppose he drove Miss Irwin home?" said Mary, commanding herself as
+well as she could.
+
+"No, he didn't. Why should he? Mrs. Kellynch who is Madeline's intimate
+friend, naturally drove Miss Irwin home in her car. And Rupert, who
+lives near here, dropped me. It was some little time ago, by the way,
+but I remember it quite well. Nice feller Rupert--we ought to ask him,
+too."
+
+"All right, dear."
+
+They parted amiably.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+An hour later Mary was going through her lists of cards and addresses
+with the typewriter when she suddenly said:
+
+"Oh, Miss Wilson, I'm writing a sort of story. And it's to be told in a
+series of letters."
+
+"Oh yes."
+
+"Will you please take this down. This is the address: Percy Kellynch,
+Esq., 100 Sloane Street. It begins like this: 'Dear Mr. Kellynch----'"
+...
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+MASTER CLIFFORD KELLYNCH
+
+
+Lady Kellynch was in the room she usually chose for sitting in for any
+length of time, when her son, Clifford (twelve years old), was at home
+for the holidays.
+
+A widow, handsome and excessively dignified, as I have mentioned, with
+her prim notions, she was essentially like the old-fashioned idea of an
+old maid. As her fine house was very perfectly and meticulously
+furnished, she treated the presence of Clifford as an outrage in any
+room but this particularly practical and saddle-bag old apartment, where
+there was still a corner with a little low chair in it, and boxes full
+of toys and other things, which were not only far outgrown by Clifford,
+but which were absolutely never seen nowadays at all, and would be
+considered far behindhand as amusements for a child of four.
+
+This extra, additional child, born eighteen years after his brother, and
+just before the death of his father, was still looked upon by Lady
+Kellynch as a curious mixture of an unexpected blessing, an unnecessary
+nuisance, and a pleasant surprise. She was always delighted to see him
+when he first came home from school, but he was very soon allowed to go
+and stay with Bertha and Percy. Bertha adored him and delighted in him
+in reality; Lady Kellynch worshipped him in theory, but though she
+hardly knew it herself, his presence absolutely interfered with all her
+plans about nothing, spoilt her little arrangements for order, and
+jarred on the clockwork regularity of her life, especially in her
+moments of sentiment.
+
+He was a very good-looking boy, with smooth black hair and regular
+features like his brother, Percy. Perhaps because he was, according to
+his mother's view, very much advanced for his age, he regarded her
+rather as a backward child, to whom it would be highly desirable, but
+unfortunately practically impossible, to explain life as it is now
+lived.
+
+Lady Kellynch was doing a peculiar little piece of bead embroidery. She
+did it every day for ten minutes after lunch with a look at Clifford
+every now and then, occasionally counting her beads, as if she was not
+altogether quite sure whether or not he ate them when she wasn't
+looking. This was the moment that she always chose to have conversation
+with him, so as to learn to know his character. A couple of suitable
+books, "The Jungle Book," and "Eric, or Little by Little," were placed
+on a low table by Clifford's side; but, as a matter of fact, he was
+reading _The English Review_.
+
+"Clifford darling!"
+
+He put the magazine down, shoving a newspaper over it.
+
+"Well, mother?"
+
+"Tell me something about your life at school, darling."
+
+He glanced at the ceiling, then looked down for inspiration.
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Well, haven't you any nice little friends at school, Clifford--any
+favourites?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Oh, good Lord, mother, of course I haven't! People don't have little
+friends. I don't know what you mean."
+
+She looked rather pained.
+
+"No friends! Oh, dear, dear, dear! But are there no nice boys that you
+like?"
+
+"No. Most of them are awful rotters."
+
+She put down her beads.
+
+"Clifford! I'm shocked to hear this. Rotters! I suppose that's one of
+your school expressions--you mean no nice boys? Poor little fellow! I
+shall make a note of that."
+
+He looked up, rather frightened.
+
+"What on earth for?"
+
+"Why, I shall certainly speak to your master about it. Oh! to think that
+you haven't got a single friend in the school! _All_ bad boys! There
+must be something wrong somewhere!"
+
+"Oh, mummy, for goodness sake don't speak to anybody about it. If you
+say a word, I tell you, I sha'n't go back to school. I never heard of
+such a thing! I didn't say they were all bad boys--rot! No. Some of them
+aren't so bad."
+
+"Well, tell me about one--if it's only one, Clifford."
+
+He thought a moment.
+
+"I'm afraid you'll go writing to the master, as you call it, and get me
+expelled for telling tales, or something."
+
+"Oh, my darling, of course I won't! Poor boy! tell me about this one."
+
+"There's one chap who's fairly decent, a chap called Pickering."
+
+"To think," she murmured to herself, stroking her transformation, and
+shaking her head, "to think there should be only one boy fairly decent
+in all that enormous school!"
+
+"Oh, well! _he's_ simply _frightfully_ decent, as a matter of fact.
+Pickering fairly takes it. He's top-hole. There's nothing he can't do."
+
+"What does he do, darling?"
+
+"Oh, I can't exactly explain. He's a bit of all right. It's frightfully
+smart to be seen with him."
+
+Lady Kellynch looked surprised at this remark.
+
+"Clifford--really! I'd no idea you had these social views. Of course
+you're quite right, dear. I've always been in favour of your being
+friends with little gentlemen. But I shouldn't like you to be at
+all--what is called a snob. So long as he _is_ a little gentleman, of
+course, that's everything."
+
+Clifford laughed.
+
+"I never said Pickering was a gentleman! big or little! You don't
+understand, mother. I mean it's smart to be seen with him because--oh! I
+can't explain. He's all right."
+
+His mother thought for a little while, then, having heard that it is
+right to encourage school friendships at home, so as to know under what
+influence your boy got, she said:
+
+"Would you like, dear, to have this young Master Pickering to tea here
+one day?"
+
+He looked up, and round the room.
+
+"Oh no, mother; I shouldn't care for him to come here."
+
+"Why not, dear?"
+
+"Oh, I can't explain exactly; it isn't the sort of place for him."
+
+Lady Kellynch was positively frightened to ask why, for fear her boy
+should show contempt for his own home, so she didn't go into the matter,
+but remarked:
+
+"I should think a beautiful house in Onslow Square, with a garden like
+this, was just the thing for a boy to like."
+
+He shook his head with a humorous expression of contempt.
+
+"Pickering wouldn't go into a _Square_ garden, mother!"
+
+She waited a moment, wondering what shaped garden was suited to him,
+what form of pleasaunce was worthy of the presence of this exceptional
+boy, and then said, trying to ascertain the point of view:
+
+"Would you take him to see Percy?"
+
+He brightened up directly.
+
+"Percy! Oh yes, rather. I'd like him to see Bertha. I shall ask her to
+let me take him one day."
+
+Lady Kellynch felt vaguely pained, and envious and jealous, but on
+reflection realised to herself that probably the wonderful Pickering
+would be a very great nuisance, and make a noise, and create general
+untidiness and confusion, in which Bertha was quite capable of taking
+part; so she said:
+
+"Do so, if you like, dear. You're going to see Bertha soon, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes. I'm going to see her to-day." He quickly put _The English Review_
+under the cushion, sitting on it as he saw his mother look up from her
+work.
+
+"Bertha's all right; she's pretty too."
+
+"She's very good and kind to you, I must say," said Lady Kellynch. "As
+they have asked you so often, I think I should like you to pay her a
+nice little attention to-day, dear. Take her a pretty basket of
+flowers."
+
+Clifford's handsome dark face became overclouded with boredom.
+
+"Oh, good Lord, mother! can't you telephone to a florist and have it
+sent to her, if she's _got_ to have vegetables?"
+
+"But surely, dear, it would be nicer for you to take it."
+
+"Oh, mother, it would be awful rot, carting about floral tribs in a taxi
+all over London."
+
+"Floral tribs? What are floral tribs? Oh, tributes! I see! In a taxi!
+No. I never dreamt of your doing such a thing. Ridiculous extravagance!
+Go from Kensington to Sloane Street in a taxi!"
+
+"How did you suppose I'd take it, then?"
+
+"I supposed you'd walk," said Lady Kellynch, in a frightened voice.
+
+"Walk! Great Scott! Walk with a basket of flowers! What next! I didn't
+know you were bringing me up as a messenger-boy. No, mother, I'm too old
+to be a boy scout, or anything of that sort. What have you got Warden
+for? Why don't you send the footman? But far the most sensible way is to
+ring up the place itself, and give the order."
+
+"No, dear," said Lady Kellynch, rather crushed. She had pictured his
+entrance with some beautiful flowers to please his sister-in-law. "Never
+mind; it doesn't matter."
+
+"Mind you," said the spoilt boy, standing up, and looking at himself in
+the glass. "Mind you I should be awfully glad to give Bertha anything
+she likes. I don't mind. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll call in at
+that place in Bond Street, and get her some chocolates."
+
+"Charbonnel and Walker's, I suppose you mean," said his mother.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"They'll do. Pickering says his brother, who's an artist, is going to do
+a historical picture for next year's Academy on the subject of 'The
+First Meeting between Charbonnel and Walker.'"
+
+She looked bewildered.
+
+"Just as you like, my dear. Take her some bonbons if you prefer it.
+Wait! One moment, Clifford. Bertha hates sweets. She never touches
+them."
+
+"It doesn't matter," he answered. "I do."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+A DISCOVERY
+
+
+"Come in, old boy!"
+
+Bertha was lying on the sofa reading a large book. She didn't put down
+either her little feet or the book when her young brother-in-law came
+in.
+
+He also had a book in his pocket, which he took out. Then he produced a
+box in silver paper.
+
+"For you," he remarked, and then immediately cut the blue ribbon with a
+penknife and proceeded to begin the demolition of the chocolates.
+
+"A present for me?" said Bertha.
+
+"Yes," he said, taking a second one rather quickly and glancing at the
+second row.
+
+"I'm so glad you've got me the kind you like. I hope you've got those
+with the burnt almonds that you're so particularly fond of?"
+
+"Oh yes, rather!"
+
+"Thanks. That was nice and thoughtful of you; I know they're your
+favourite sort."
+
+"Yes, they are."
+
+"And what I always think is so nice about you, Clifford," Bertha went
+on, "is that you're so truly thoughtful. I mean, you never forget your
+own tastes. You really take trouble to get yourself any little thing you
+like. You put yourself out."
+
+"Oh--I----"
+
+"Oh no, I'm not flattering you; I really mean it. You're such a nice
+thoughtful boy. I've seen you take a lot of trouble, rather than deprive
+yourself of anything you cared for."
+
+"Oh, Bertha!"
+
+"Are you going to stay long to-day?"
+
+"Yes, I am," said Clifford, taking up the book he had brought with him.
+"As long as I can."
+
+"Oh."
+
+"How long can I?"
+
+"Till dinner, or till anyone turns up that I want to talk to."
+
+"Right-o! But you can send me into another room. I needn't go home, need
+I?"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Oh, you silly boy! Of course not."
+
+"I say, have you seen my report?" he asked gravely.
+
+"Some of it. Your mother read out little bits."
+
+"Which little bits?" he asked rather anxiously.
+
+"Oh, the worst of course!" said Bertha. "The purple patches! You're a
+credit to the family, I don't think!"
+
+"She asked me who was my nicest little friend at school," said Clifford.
+
+"And what did you say?"
+
+"I told her about Pickering. I say, Bertha, ... can I bring Pickering
+here?"
+
+"Of course you can."
+
+"May I give him a regular sort of invitation from you, then?"
+
+"Yes, rather. Tell him that I and Percy ask him to come and live here
+from to-morrow morning for the rest of his natural life. Or, if that
+doesn't seem cordial enough, we'll adopt him as our only son."
+
+"Oh no! I think that's too much."
+
+"Is it? Well, make it from to-morrow afternoon. Or perhaps we'd better
+not be effusive; it wouldn't look well. So, instead of that, I'll invite
+him to go to the Zoological Gardens on Sunday fortnight for an hour, and
+you and he can have buns and tea at your own expense there. That's not
+too hospitable and gushing, is it?"
+
+He laughed.
+
+"You do look smart, Bertha!" he remarked. "Your shoes are always so
+frightfully right. I say, can't you tell mother to wear the same sort of
+shoes? And tell her to look narrower, and not have such high collars."
+
+"My dear boy, your mother dresses beautifully," said Bertha. "What do
+you want her to look like?"
+
+"I should like her to look like some of those little cards on cigarette
+boxes, or like a picture post-card, if you want to know," he admitted
+candidly.
+
+"That's absurd, Cliff."
+
+"But, Bertha, some of the fellows' mothers do."
+
+"Remember your mother is _Percy's_ mother, too."
+
+"Pickering's mother doesn't look much older than you," he replied.
+
+"Oh--what a horrid woman!"
+
+He smiled. "Why do you call her a horrid woman? For not looking older
+than you?"
+
+"Oh! tell her to mind her own business, and not go interfering with me.
+I shall look whatever age I choose without consulting her!" Bertha
+pretended to pout and be offended, and went on reading for a little
+while.
+
+He took another chocolate and turned a page.
+
+She did not ask to see the book.
+
+"That's what I call so jolly about you," presently said Clifford. "When
+I come to see you, you don't keep asking me questions, or giving me
+things, or advice, or anything. You do what you like, and I do what I
+like--I mean to say, we both do just what we like."
+
+"Yes; that's the way to be pleasant companions," said Bertha. "I go your
+way, and you go mine."
+
+"How's Percy?" the boy asked presently.
+
+"Percy's the same as usual. Only I fancy he seems a little depressed."
+
+Presently Clifford looked up and said:
+
+"Anyway, you'll think it over, Bertha; and see what you decide to do
+about asking Pickering?"
+
+"Rather!" said Bertha, turning a page absently. "He's rather a wonderful
+chap, then?"
+
+"Isn't he!"
+
+"What sort?"
+
+"What _sort_?" cried Clifford, dropping his book. "Why, Bertha, I was
+_with_ him, _actually with him_, when he went into the country post
+office and asked the woman if she would let him have small change for
+ten shillings, and he found he hadn't the half-sovereign then, but would
+pay her when he didn't see her again! And then he said if she wouldn't
+do that, he'd like to buy some stamps, and asked if she'd show him some
+to choose from. And then he said--I saw him do it--'I'll take those two
+in the middle--I like the colour.' When she said they were fivepence he
+said that was too expensive, and he couldn't run to it. And then he
+wanted to buy some sweets--they sell everything at those country
+shops--and she wrapped some up for him, and then he said he hadn't got a
+penny, and would she put it down to Lord Arthur's account--that's an
+uncle of his who didn't know anything about it, and hadn't got any
+account. And when she refused, fancy, Bertha! he asked if she'd take
+stamps, as she seemed fond of them, and when she said she would, he
+stamped twice on the floor and ran out of the shop, and I ran after him.
+She _was_ angry!"
+
+"He seems a useful boy."
+
+"Rather! His people are frightfully rich, you know," went on Clifford.
+"When they tease him about it at school, he says he's never allowed to
+use the same motor twice, and that they're made of solid gold! He chaffs
+everybody."
+
+Clifford murmured on rather disjointedly, and Bertha read without
+listening much, occasionally making some remark, when the telephone
+rang.
+
+Bertha had an extension on the little table next to her sofa.
+
+"Shall I go?" asked Clifford.
+
+"No. Just to the other end of the room."
+
+He obeyed, and fell into the depths of a fat arm-chair.
+
+"That you, Nigel? How is it all going on? Madeline hasn't heard from him
+lately--not for ages."
+
+"Quite so," answered Nigel's voice. "I've found out something I want you
+to know. It isn't really serious--at least I'm pretty sure I can put it
+right, but I'd like to see you about it; it wouldn't take you a moment."
+
+"But is it a thing that may make any difference?" she asked rather
+anxiously.
+
+"No. Not if it's taken in time," he answered.
+
+"Oh, can't you 'phone about it, Nigel?"
+
+"Not very well, my dear. It really wouldn't take you a minute to hear
+about it _viva voce_."
+
+"But you can't keep on calling every day!" cried Bertha, exasperated.
+
+"Quite so. Couldn't you go in for a few minutes to-morrow morning at the
+Grosvenor Gallery in Bond Street? Say at about eleven or twelve? I won't
+keep you five minutes, I promise, and you can tell me if you approve of
+my plan."
+
+"Very well, I'll do that. Quarter-past eleven," added Bertha.
+
+"Only one thing, Bertha, don't tell anyone--not a soul."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I'll explain when I see you. But you mustn't mention it. It's
+nothing--two seconds."
+
+"Oh, all right! But why so many mysteries? You might just as well tell
+me now on the telephone."
+
+"I'm afraid I can't; I have to show you a letter."
+
+"I suppose Rupert has been seeing Moona Chivvey again? Is that it?"
+
+"Well, yes. But that's not all. Not a word to Madeline! Isn't it
+curious, Bertha, troubles about women are always the same. Either _they_
+want _you_ to marry _them,_ or _they_ won't marry _you_!"
+
+"Oh, really? Good-bye."
+
+"How brilliant you're looking, Bertha! You've got your hair done in that
+mysterious new way again."
+
+"How on _earth_ can you know through the telephone?"
+
+"Why, easily. By your voice. You talk in a different way--to suit it."
+
+"Do I? How funny! Good-bye."
+
+Ten minutes later Percy came in.
+
+He seemed pleased to see his young brother.
+
+"What's that book you've brought, Cliff?"
+
+"It's 'The New Arabian Nights.'"
+
+Percy laughed.
+
+"Oh yes, I know--the copy I gave Bertha. Have you decided to let her
+have it back on mature consideration?"
+
+"Oh, I say, Percy! Come off the roof, there's a good chap," said the
+boy, blushing a little.
+
+"I think I shall have to take a holiday from chambers to-morrow," Percy
+said. "Shall we take him out to lunch, Bertha?"
+
+"By all means; or, at any rate, you take him, Percy."
+
+"Are you engaged in the morning?" he asked her very quickly.
+
+"I ought to look in at my dressmaker's for a minute," she said, feeling
+angry with Nigel that he had made her promise to conceal even a few
+minutes of her day.
+
+No more was said on the subject.
+
+Presently, Percy went upstairs to his room and turned the key. He then
+took out of a drawer and placed in front of him, in their order, three
+rather curious-looking letters, written in typewriting on ordinary plain
+white notepaper. The first two, both of which began "_Dear Mr.
+Kellynch_," were four pages long, and gave some information in somewhat
+mysterious terms. The third one had no beginning, and merely mentioned
+an hour and a place where, he was told, he would find his wife on the
+following morning, if he wished to do so, in the company of an
+individual with the initials N. H. The letter further advised him to go
+there and find her and take steps to put a stop to the proceedings which
+had been watched for some time by somebody who signed the letter "your
+true and reliable friend."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The right thing to do, according to all unwritten laws of the conduct of
+a gentleman, would be to destroy such communications and at once forget
+them. To show them to her, Percy felt, would be degrading to himself and
+to such a woman as his wife, whom he now realised he placed on a
+pedestal. The idea of seeing the pedestal rock seemed to take the earth
+from under his feet. But not only that, he now felt that, though he
+hadn't known it, he loved her, not with a mild, half-patronising
+affection, but with the maddening jealousy of a lover in the most
+passionate stage of love. A man placed in his position nearly always
+thinks that it is the idea of being deceived that hurts the most.
+Particularly when the object of suspicion is his wife. Now he knew it
+was not that; he could forgive the deception; but he couldn't bear to
+think that any other man could think of her from that point of view at
+all. And if he found that the mere facts stated in the three letters
+were true, even if the inferences suggested were utterly false, he had
+made up his mind what to do. He would go and see Nigel on the subject,
+forbid him the house, saying that too frequent visits had caused talk,
+and never mention the subject to Bertha. That was his present plan.
+Perhaps it would not be possible to carry it out, but that was his idea.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The fact that Bertha had been vague about her morning engagement--for it
+was really unlike her not to seem pleased at the idea of spending the
+whole day with him and the little brother--so agonised Percy that he
+pretended to have a headache and saw practically nothing of Bertha till
+the next day. He said then that he would go to chambers, meet Clifford
+at Prince's and come home after lunch and take Bertha out somewhere.
+This was to leave her perfectly free, so that she need not alter any
+arrangements. He wished to see what she would do.
+
+It was a glorious morning, and Percy felt rather mean and miserable and
+unlike the day as he left the house.
+
+Bertha was already dressed, looking deliciously fresh and pink, and
+sparkling and fair as the sunshine. A second of acute physical jealousy
+made him remark rather bitterly before he left that her hat was a little
+bit striking, wasn't it? Upon which she at once, in her good-tempered,
+amiable way (only too delighted that he should have noticed anything in
+her toilette even to object to it), plucked the white feather out of the
+black hat and put a little coat on over her dress, so as to look less
+noticeable.
+
+At a quarter past eleven Percy paid his shilling at the gallery, walked
+in, looking slowly at the drawings on the walls in the narrow passage
+that led to the rooms.
+
+The moment he reached the first door on the left-hand side, which was
+open, he saw through it, exactly opposite to him, seated on a sofa,
+Bertha, looking up and chattering to Nigel Hillier, who was looking down
+in a protecting manner, and listening with great interest to her
+conversation.
+
+Neither of them saw him.
+
+The pain of finding one part of the letter true was so startling and
+terrible that he dared not look another moment; a second more, and he
+might have made a scandal, perhaps for ever after to be regretted, and
+possibly entirely groundless.
+
+He walked straight out of the gallery again, and drove to Sloane Street
+in a taxi. During the drive he felt extraordinary sensations. He
+remembered an occasion when he had been to a dentist as a little boy,
+and the strange new suffering it had caused him. Then he thought that
+when he got home, he would feel better. Instead of that the sight of the
+familiar house was unbearable agony; he could not endure to go into it;
+he drove back again to the club of which both he and Nigel were members,
+and where Nigel was generally to be found before lunch. There he tried
+to wait and master himself a little; it was peculiar torture to have
+left them there now. He felt he would like to go back to the gallery and
+at least spoil their morning. But that, his sound sense told him, would
+be a mistake. He would wait there till Nigel came in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+A LOVE SCENE
+
+
+Percy waited on and on, minute after minute, half-hour after half-hour,
+reading the morning papers, staring with apparent deep interest at the
+pictures in the weekly journals--rather depressing foreshortened
+snapshots of society at racecourses. These people, caught unawares,
+seemed to be all feet and parasols, or smiles and muffs. Then, feeling
+rather exhausted, he ordered a drink, and forgot it, and smoked a
+cigarette. When he saw anyone he knew, he put on an absent-minded air,
+and avoided the friend's eye. He looked at his watch as if in sudden
+anxiety, and found that it was half-past one. This was the time he was
+to meet his little brother at Prince's. He made inquiries and found that
+Nigel was expected to lunch at the club. It was horrible! He could not
+leave the boy at the restaurant waiting for him, and he was not up to
+the mark either, at the moment, for seeing Nigel Hillier; he felt as if
+the top of his head had been smashed in. Yet his common-sense and
+reasoning power gradually prevailed over his emotion. And as he sat
+there, Percy changed his mind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At first he had thought it would be cowardly to her to attack his wife
+on the subject; it was the man with whom he should quarrel. And now it
+seemed to him different. His point of view altered. It seemed only fair
+now to give Bertha herself a chance of explaining matters. Thinking of
+her fresh, frank expression that morning, and looking back, he began to
+have, by some sort of second sight, a vision of his own stupid
+injustice. No! he must have been wrong! Nigel may have been a scoundrel,
+or--anything--but it couldn't be Bertha's fault. She may have been
+imprudent, out of pure innocence; that was all.
+
+He got up, and now he decided to take his brother out to lunch, and then
+go back and talk to Bertha.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+During the noisy, crowded lunch at Prince's, which entertained the boy
+so much that there was no necessity for the elder brother to talk, Percy
+came to a firm decision.
+
+He would never tell Bertha anything at all about the anonymous letters.
+
+He would tell her that he had seen her this morning at the gallery--as
+if by accident; but he would frankly admit a jealousy, even a suspicion
+of Nigel.
+
+He would ask Bertha in so many words not to see Nigel again.
+
+If she would agree to this, and if she were as affectionate as formerly,
+what did the rest matter? The letters must have been slanders; who
+_could_ have written them? But, after all, what did it matter? If Bertha
+consented to do as he asked, they were untrue, and that was everything.
+He and Bertha would drop Hillier, and he would put the whole horrible
+business behind him; he would wipe it out, and forget it. The mere
+thought of such joy made him tremble ... it seemed too glorious to be
+real, and as they approached the house again he began to believe in it.
+
+Clifford had thoroughly enjoyed himself. He felt quite grown-up as he
+parted with Percy at Sloane Street, and drove home, singing to himself
+the refrain of Pickering's favourite song: "How much wood would a
+woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck would chuck wood?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Percy, what is the matter?" Bertha asked anxiously, as she looked at
+him.
+
+He had gone through a great deal that morning and looked rather worn
+out. ... He spoke in a lower voice than usual.
+
+"Look here, Bertha," he said, "I have something to tell you."
+
+She waited, then, at a pause, said, rather pathetically:
+
+"Oh, Percy, do tell me what it is? I've felt so worried about you
+lately. You seem to be changed. ... I have felt very pained and hurt.
+Tell me what it is."
+
+Percy looked at her. She was looking sweet, anxious and sincere. She
+leant forward, holding out her little hand. ... If this was not genuine,
+then nothing on earth ever could be!
+
+"Tell me, Percy," she repeated, looking up at him, as he stood by the
+fire, with that little movement of her fair head that he used to say was
+like a canary.
+
+Percy looked down at her; all his imposingness, all his air of
+importance, and his occasional tinge of pompousness, had entirely
+vanished. He was simple, angry and unhappy.
+
+"I found I hadn't got to go to chambers early this morning after all, so
+I walked down Bond Street. I went into the Grosvenor Gallery. I saw you
+there. ... It seemed very strange you hadn't told me. Why didn't you?
+Why didn't you? Bertha, don't tell me anything that isn't true!"
+
+Her eyes sparkled. She stood up beaming radiant joy. She went to him
+impulsively; everything was all right; he was jealous!
+
+"Oh, Percy! I can explain it all."
+
+Hastily, eagerly, impulsively, with the most obvious honesty and
+frankness, she told him of how Nigel had promised to help her with
+Madeline, of how he had planned with her to make Madeline happy; she
+told him of the variable and unaccountable conduct of Rupert Denison to
+Madeline, of his marked attention at one moment, his coldness at
+another. Foolishly, she had been led to believe that Nigel could make
+things all right. Now this morning Nigel had asked her to meet him to
+tell her that Rupert had been seen choosing hats for another girl.
+Bertha was in doubt whether she ought to tell Madeline, and make her try
+and cure her devotion. And Bertha had thought it all the kinder of Nigel
+because his brother, Charlie, was very much in love with her.
+
+Percy stopped her in the middle of the story. He could take no sort of
+interest in it at present. He was much too happy and relieved; he was in
+the seventh heaven.
+
+"Yes ... yes ... all right, dear. Only you oughtn't to have made an
+appointment with him. Only promise that never again---- You see, things
+can be misconstrued. And, anyhow, I don't like to see you with Nigel
+Hillier. Frankly, I can't stand it. You'll make this sacrifice for
+me--if it is one, Bertha?"
+
+He had quite decided to conceal all about the letters.
+
+"Indeed, indeed I will; and I know I was wrong," she said. "I mean it's
+no good trying to help people too much. They must play their own game.
+You understand, don't you? Nigel was only to show me a letter he had
+written inviting the other girl to lunch--to take her away from Rupert.
+But it's all nonsense, and I'll have nothing more to do with it."
+
+"Then that's all right," said Percy, sitting down, with a great sigh of
+relief.
+
+"You didn't really think for a moment, seriously, that I ever--that I
+didn't--oh, you never stopped knowing how much I love you?" she asked,
+with tears in her eyes.
+
+Percy said that he had not exactly thought that. Also, he was not
+jealous--that was not the word--he merely wished her to promise never to
+see or speak to Nigel again as long as they lived, and never to
+recognise him if she met him: that was all. He was perfectly
+reasonable.
+
+"It's perhaps a little bit difficult in some ways, dearest. But I
+promise you faithfully to do my very, very best. And this I absolutely
+swear--I will never see him without your approving and knowing all about
+it. But as I shouldn't exactly like him to think you thought anything--I
+mean--I think you must leave it a little to me--to my tact, to get rid
+of him; and trust me. And I want you to know that I shouldn't care if I
+never saw him again. I don't even like him. And I really don't think he
+cares for me; I'm quite certain it's your fancy."
+
+"Can you give me your word of honour that he never----"
+
+"Never, by word or look," answered Bertha.
+
+"That's all right," said Percy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha sat on the arm of his chair and leant her head against his
+shoulder.
+
+At that moment he thought he had never known what happiness was before.
+
+Then she said:
+
+"It's all right now, then, Percy? That was all, and the cloud's gone?"
+
+"Quite, absolutely," he answered, mentally tearing the letters into
+little bits.
+
+Then she said:
+
+"Percy, of course you never really thought ... you never could think
+that I meant to deceive you in any way. ... But supposing Nigel had had
+any treacherous ideas--let us say, supposing that Nigel, though he's
+married, and all that--suppose you found out that he had liked me, and
+wanted to spoil our happiness? ... I mean, suppose you found out that he
+had been making love to me? ... What would you have done?"
+
+"I should have killed him," replied Percy. Could a man have said
+anything that would please a woman as much as this primitive assertion?
+
+Bertha threw her arms round his neck. She was perfectly happy. He was in
+love with her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+RECONCILIATION
+
+
+Bertha decided it was better to curtail Nigel's visits and make them
+fewer gradually; she had quite convinced Percy of her sincerity, and he
+also had come to the conclusion that it would be foolish and _infra dig_
+to let the jealousy be suspected. He trusted her again now; and they
+were both deeply and intensely happy. Being ashamed of the letters,
+Percy said nothing about them; in a day or two he had come to the
+conclusion that he would leave it entirely to Bertha's tact.
+
+"All I ask is," he said, "that you will see him as little and as seldom
+as you can, without making too much fuss about it, or letting him know
+what I thought."
+
+"And I promise to do that," she said. "I long never to see him again.
+It's only on account of Madeline I wanted to have one more little talk
+with him--about her and Rupert. After that I'll manage without him, I
+assure you. I swear not to give him anything more to do for me. But
+what I can't understand, dear, is what put the idea into your head."
+
+"Never mind. You were seeing him too often. And, remember, I know that
+he was in love with you once and wanted to marry you."
+
+"But, dear boy, that was ten years ago, and he married somebody else."
+
+"Which he may regret by now. Well, I trust all to your tact, Bertha."
+
+"He's coming to-day," Bertha said. "And then I'm going to make him
+understand I no longer want his help."
+
+"Right."
+
+Percy went out, looking very happy. He did not forget to kiss her now,
+and he himself had sent the large basket of flowers that Nigel nearly
+fell over when he came in the afternoon.
+
+"A new admirer?" asked Nigel.
+
+"No, an old one. So you say that you met Rupert buying a hat for Miss
+Chivvey, and saw them the next day walking together, and she was wearing
+it."
+
+"Yes. And, as I told you, I thought this rather serious, so I wrote and
+invited the young lady to lunch with me."
+
+"Did she accept?"
+
+"That is what I've come to tell you about to-day. She was engaged, but
+asked me to invite her another time."
+
+"Exactly. Now, Nigel, I want to tell you something. I think I've been
+doing wrong intriguing for Madeline, and it hasn't been fair to her
+really. I've decided to tell her what you told me about Rupert, and then
+leave things to take their course. And I oughtn't to countenance asking
+the other girl to lunch. It was horrid of me--I'm ashamed of myself,
+both on account of her and of Mary. Don't do it; I'd rather not."
+
+Nigel looked up at her sharply.
+
+"Do these sudden and violent scruples mean simply that you don't want me
+any more?"
+
+"A little," she replied.
+
+"I've noticed you've seemed very cold and unkind to me the last week or
+so," he said. "You seem to be trying to change our relations."
+
+"I don't see why we should have any relations," answered Bertha. "After
+all, I know instinctively that Mary doesn't like me."
+
+"What in heaven's name does that matter?" he asked.
+
+"A good deal to me."
+
+There was a moment's silence.
+
+Nigel looked surprised and more hurt than she would have expected. Then
+he said:
+
+"All right, Bertha. I hope I can take a hint. I won't bother you any
+more. I won't try to help you in anything till you ask me."
+
+She was silent.
+
+Then he went on:
+
+"Might I venture to ask whether you suspect I've been making the most of
+our plans for Madeline to see as much of you as I could?"
+
+"Oh, I didn't say that."
+
+"If you had, perhaps you would have been right," he said, but seeing her
+annoyed expression he changed his tone, and said:
+
+"No, my dear, truly I only wanted to do a good turn for you and your
+friend. It's off now, that's all. I sha'n't interfere again."
+
+He stood up.
+
+She hesitated for one moment.
+
+"Do you think Rupert has not been sincere with Madeline?"
+
+"I can't say. I wouldn't go so far as that. I think he varies--likes the
+contrast between the two. But if he decides to marry, I don't think he'd
+propose to Miss Chivvey. Well, good-bye. I won't call again till you ask
+me."
+
+Her look of obvious relief as she smilingly held out her hand piqued him
+into saying:
+
+"I see you want your time to yourself more. Before I go, will you answer
+me one little question?"
+
+"Of course I will."
+
+He still held her hand. She took it away.
+
+"What is the question?"
+
+"Who sent you those flowers, Bertha?"
+
+"Have you any right to ask?"
+
+"I think so--as an old friend. They're compromisingly large, and there's
+a strange mixture of orchids and forget-me-nots, roses and gardenias
+that I don't quite like. It looks like somebody almost wildly
+lavish--not anxious to show off his taste, but sincerely throwing his
+whole soul into the basket."
+
+She laughed, pleased.
+
+"Who sent you the flowers, Bertha?"
+
+He was standing up by the door.
+
+"Percy," she answered.
+
+"Oh!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+"TANGO"
+
+
+Madeline had taken the gossip about Rupert and Miss Chivvey very
+bravely, but very seriously. It pained her terribly, but she was
+grateful to Bertha for telling her.
+
+A fortnight passed, during which she heard nothing from Rupert, and then
+one morning, the day after a dance, she called to see Bertha.
+
+Percy had had no more anonymous letters, and Nigel had remained away. He
+was deeply grateful, for he supposed Bertha had managed with perfect
+tact to stop the talk without giving herself away, or making him
+ridiculous.
+
+Bertha had never looked happier in her life. She was sitting smiling to
+herself, apparently in a dream, when her friend came in.
+
+"Bertha," she said, "I have some news. I danced the tango with Nigel's
+brother Charlie last night, and at the end--he really does dance
+divinely--what do you think happened? I had gone there perfectly
+miserable, for I had seen and heard nothing of Mr. Denison except that
+one letter after the Ballet--and then Charlie proposed to me, and I
+accepted him, like in a book!"
+
+Bertha took her hand.
+
+"My dear Madeline, how delightful! This is what I've always wanted. It's
+so utterly satisfactory in every way."
+
+"I know, and he is a darling boy. I was very frank with him, Bertha. I
+didn't say I was in love with him, and he said he would teach me to be."
+
+"It's frightfully satisfactory," continued Bertha. "Tell me Madeline,
+what made you change like this?"
+
+"Well, dear, I've been getting so unhappy: I feel Rupert has been simply
+playing with me. I heard the other day that _they_ were dining out alone
+together--I mean Rupert and that girl. I don't blame him, Bertha. It was
+I, in a sense, who threw myself at his head. I admired and liked him and
+gradually let myself go and get silly about him. But this last week I've
+been pulling myself together and seeing how hopeless it was, and just as
+I'd begun to conquer my feeling--to fight it down--then this nice dear
+boy, so frank and straightforward and sincere, came along, and--oh! I
+thought I should like it. To stop at home with mother after my sort of
+disappointment seemed too flat and miserable: I couldn't bear it. Now I
+shall have an object in life. But, Bertha," continued Madeline, putting
+her head on her shoulder, "I've been absolutely frank, you know."
+
+"I guessed you would be; it was like you. But I hope you didn't say too
+much to Charlie. It would be a pity to cloud his pleasure and spoil the
+sparkle of the fun. By the time you're choosing carpets together and
+receiving your third cruet-stand you will have forgotten such a person
+as Rupert Denison exists--except as a man who played a sort of
+character-part in the curtain-raiser of your existence."
+
+"Well, I hope so. But I did tell Charlie I was not in love with him, and
+he said he would try to make me."
+
+"I only hope that you're not doing it so that your mother should ask
+Rupert to the wedding? Not that I myself sha'n't enjoy that."
+
+"Honestly, Bertha, I don't think so. More than anything it's because I
+want an object in life."
+
+"Here's a letter from Nigel," said Bertha. "I expect he'll be making
+this an excuse to drop in again."
+
+"Yes; but you mustn't tease Percy, because everything happened just as
+you wanted it to," said Madeline. "I really was surprised at how
+suddenly and determinedly Charlie began again. He had seemed almost to
+give me up. He dances the tango so beautifully; I think it all came
+through that. We got on so splendidly at tango teas. At any rate, but
+for that I shouldn't have seen him so often."
+
+"It's a tango marriage," said Bertha.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha strongly suspected a little manoeuvring of Nigel's in the
+course of the last fortnight, but did not realise how much there had
+been of it. The day Bertha had practically said he was not to interfere
+any longer, Nigel thoroughly realised that Percy must be jealous. He was
+wildly annoyed at this, since it would be a great obstacle, besides
+proving Percy was in love, but he saw the urgency of falling in at once
+with her wish; not opposing it, being absolutely obedient to it. This
+was not the moment to push himself forward--to show his feelings. Tact
+and diplomacy must be used. Of course, he had not the faintest notion
+about Mary and her letters, but merely thought that a sudden relapse of
+conjugal affection on Percy's side--confound him!--and an attack of
+unwonted jealousy had made Percy say something to Bertha to cause her
+coldness.
+
+He remained away, but he thought of more than one plan to regain the old
+intimacy.
+
+Quite unscrupulously he played several little tricks, at least he made
+several remarks about one to the other, to make the apparently
+hesitating Rupert more interested in Miss Chivvey and less so in
+Madeline, while he urged his brother Charlie on, and insisted on his
+continuing his court. The result was quicker than he had expected, and
+after a very little diplomacy Charlie had found Madeline willing to
+accept him. As Madeline was to Bertha just like a sister, it was natural
+that they should meet again now, and in this letter Nigel asked
+permission to call and have a chat.
+
+Bertha agreed, for although she was slightly on her guard against the
+possibility of his wishing to flirt, she had not the faintest idea, as I
+have said, of Nigel's determined resolve.
+
+Nigel had been fairly unhappy of late. Caring very little for any of his
+other friends, and having this _idée fixe_ about Bertha--which became
+much stronger at the opposition and the idea of Percy's jealousy--he
+moped a good deal and had spent more time than usual with Mary. Nigel
+was one of those very rare men, who are becoming rarer and rarer, who,
+having passed the age of thirty-five, still regard love as the principal
+object of life. That Nigel did so was what made him so immensely popular
+with women as a rule. Women feel instinctively when this is so, and the
+man who makes sport, ambition or art his first interest, and women, and
+romance in general, a mere secondary pleasure, is never regarded with
+nearly the same favour as the man who values women chiefly, even though
+that very man is naturally far less reliable in his affection and almost
+invariably deceives them. To be placed in the background of life is what
+the average woman dislikes the most; she would rather be of the first
+importance as a woman even if she knows she has many rivals.
+
+Bertha was exceptional, in that she did not care for the Don Juan type
+of man, but was rather inclined to despise him. She would far rather
+have ambition, business, art, duty, any other object in life as her
+rival, than another woman.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Percy received no more of the singular typewritten letters. He kept
+those that he had locked up in a box. Mary had grown a little frightened
+at the apparent success of those she sent. She never heard anything
+about them, but she knew that Nigel had not been seeing Bertha since the
+note about the picture gallery. She began to be happier again. Nigel was
+a great deal more at home, though not more affectionate. And Mary was
+one of those women, by no means infrequent, who are fairly satisfied if
+they can, by hook or by crook, by any trick or any tyranny, keep the man
+they care for somehow under the same roof with them--if only his body is
+in the house, even if they know it is against his will, and that his
+soul is far away. She would far rather that his desire was elsewhere, if
+only _he_ were positively present--the one dread, really, being that he
+should be enjoying himself with anyone else. Mary preferred a thousand
+times a silent, sulky evening with Nigel going up to his room about the
+same time that she went to hers, than, as he used to be when they were
+first married, gay, affectionate and caressing to her, and then going
+out. She would gladly make him a kind of prisoner, even at the cost of
+making him almost dislike her, rather than give him his freedom--even to
+please him--a freedom which included the possibility of his seeing
+Bertha again.
+
+Although she was unjust and mistaken in her facts, it was, of course, a
+correct instinct that made her aware that Bertha was the great
+attraction--the one real object of passion in Nigel's life. But she was
+incapable of believing that Bertha did not care for him, that if she had
+she would never have flirted with the husband of another woman. Merely
+because Bertha was pretty and admired, Mary, with her strange
+narrow-minded bitterness, took it for granted that it was impossible
+that she could be also a delicately scrupulous, generous, and
+high-minded creature. But just as passion will make one singularly
+quick-sighted, it can also make one dense and stupid. Considering that
+Mary was madly in love with her own husband, it was absurd she should
+suppose it impossible that Bertha should take the slightest interest in
+hers. Of course Mary had heard that they were very devoted--if she had
+not, what would have been the use of writing the letters?--but she chose
+to believe that it was only on the husband's side, and that Bertha must
+of necessity be, of course, sly and deceitful. She hated Bertha
+violently, and yet she was by nature the kindest of women; only this one
+mania of hers completely altered her, and made her bitter, wild, hard
+and unscrupulous, stupid and clever, cowardly and reckless. A woman's
+jealousy of another woman is always sufficiently dreadful, but when the
+object of jealousy is hers by legal right, when the sense of personal
+property is added to it, then it is one of the most terrible and
+unreasonable things in nature.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+CLIFFORD'S HISTORICAL PLAY
+
+
+Bertha was sitting with her little brother-in-law. She was to give him
+half-an-hour, after which she expected a visit from Nigel.
+
+"What on earth is it, old boy?"
+
+She saw he had some rather untidy papers in his hand and was looking
+extremely self-conscious, so she spoke kindly and encouragingly.
+
+"Well, I daresay you noticed, Bertha, in my report, that history was
+very good."
+
+"I think I did," she said gravely. "If I recollect right the report
+said: 'History nearly up to the level of the form.'"
+
+"Oh, I say, was that all? Gracious! Well, anyhow, I've read a lot of
+history, and I'm fearfully keen about it. And, I say, my idea was, you
+see, I thought I'd write a historical play."
+
+"Oh! what a splendid idea!" cried Bertha, jumping up, looking very
+pleased, but serious. "Have you got it there, Cliff?"
+
+"Yes. Well, as a matter of fact, I have got a bit of it here."
+
+"Are you going to let me read it?"
+
+"Well, I don't think you can," he answered rather naïvely. "It's not
+quite clean enough; but I'll read a bit of it to you, if you don't mind.
+Er--you see--it's about Mary."
+
+"Which Mary?"
+
+"Oh, Bertha! what a question! As if I'd write about William and Mary,
+or--er--er--I beg your pardon--I mean the other Mary. No, Mary, Queen of
+Scots, is the only one who's any good for a play."
+
+"Well, go on, Clifford."
+
+"Well, it's a little about"--he spoke in a low, gruff voice--"at least
+partly about hawking. You know, the thing historical people used to
+do--on their wrists."
+
+"Oh yes, I know, I know! I beg your pardon, Clifford."
+
+"With birds, you know," he went on. "Oh, and I wanted to ask you, what
+time of the year _do_ people hawk?"
+
+"What time of the year? Oh, well, I should think almost any time, pretty
+well, whenever they liked, or whenever it was the fashion."
+
+"I see." He made a note. "Well, I hope you won't be fearfully bored,
+Bertha."
+
+"I say, Cliff, don't apologise so much. Get on with it."
+
+"Well, you see, it's a scene at a country inn to begin with."
+
+"Ah, I see. Yes, it would be," she murmured.
+
+"At a country inn, and this is how it begins. It's at a country inn, you
+see. 'Scene: a country inn. The mistress of the inn, a buxom-looking
+woman of middle age, is being busy about the inn. It is a country inn.
+She is making up the fire, polishing tankards, etc., drawing ale, etc.
+On extreme L. of stage is seated, near a tankard, a youth of some
+nineteen summers, who is sitting facing the audience, chin dropped, and
+apparently wrapped in thought.'"
+
+"Excuse me a moment, old chap, but that sounds as if his chin was
+wrapped in thought."
+
+"So it does; I'll change that. Thanks awfully for telling me, Bertha."
+
+"Not at all, dear."
+
+"But it is frightfully decent of you."
+
+"All right. Get on."
+
+"'At the back of the stage R. are seated two men; one of some eight and
+twenty summers the other of some six and twenty years old. They are
+seated in the corners of the stage and in apparently earnest
+conversation.' (Now the dialogue begins, Bertha, listen):
+
+"'YOUTH: Are you there, mistress? Is my ale nigh on ready? Zounds, I'm
+mighty thirsty, I am.'
+
+"'MISTRESS: Ay, ay, great Scot! here's your ale. You can't expect to be
+served before the quality.'"
+
+"What did Pickering think of this?" interrupted Bertha.
+
+"Pickering! Oh! I wouldn't show it to a chap like that. At any rate, not
+unless you think it's all right, Bertha."
+
+"Why, my dear boy, you'd better tell me the plot, I think, before you
+read me any more."
+
+"Mr. Nigel Hillier," announced the servant.
+
+Nigel sprang brightly in (just a little agitated though he managed to
+hide it), Bertha took her toes off the sofa, Clifford took up his play
+and shoved it into his pocket with a slight scowl.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+A SECOND PROPOSAL
+
+
+The day after Madeline's engagement two letters were handed to her. One
+in Charlie's handwriting, short and affectionate; full of the exuberance
+of the newly affianced, touchingly happy. The other one she opened,
+feeling somewhat moved, as she recognised the handwriting of Rupert
+Denison. To her utter astonishment she found it was four sheets of his
+exquisite little handwriting, and it began thus:
+
+    "MY DEAR, MY VERY DEAR MADELINE,--The last note I had from
+    you--now nearly a month ago--came to me like a gift of silver
+    roses. I did not answer it, but during the dark days in which I
+    have not seen you, I have been learning to know myself. You
+    wondered, perhaps, how I was occupied, why you did not hear from
+    me again--at least I hope you did. ("I didn't, for I knew only
+    too well," Madeline murmured to herself.) Now I have learnt to
+    understand myself. Sometimes almost inhumanly poetic you have
+    seemed to me, and others; when I remembered your simple refined
+    beauty you suggested the homelike atmosphere that is my dream."
+
+She started and went on reading.
+
+    "Madeline, do you understand, all this time, though perhaps I
+    hardly knew it myself, I loved you. I love you and shall never
+    change. It is my instinct to adore the admirable, and I know now
+    that you are the most adorable of creatures. No words can
+    describe your wonderfulness, so I send you my heart instead.
+
+    "I think, dear, our life together will be a very beautiful one.
+    It will be a great joy to me to lead you into beautiful paths.
+    How glad I shall be to see the bright look of your eyes, when
+    you greet me after this letter! What a perfect companion you
+    will be! Write at once. I have much more to say when we meet.
+    When shall this be? Your ever devoted and idolising
+
+        "RUPERT.
+
+    "_P.S._--I propose not to make our engagement public quite yet,
+    but to keep our happiness to ourselves for a few weeks, and be
+    married towards the end of the summer. What do you say, my
+    precious Madeline?"
+
+Madeline was at once delighted and horrified. How characteristic the
+letter was! Why had she not waited? There was no doubt about it, she had
+made a mistake. Rupert was the man she loved--notwithstanding his taking
+everything so for granted. Charlie must be sacrificed. But she must tell
+Rupert what had happened, of course.
+
+After sending a telegram to Rupert asking him to meet her at a picture
+gallery, for she could not bear asking him to call until everything was
+settled up, the bewildered girl rushed off to see Bertha.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha took in the situation at once. Madeline had only accepted Charlie
+in despair, thinking and believing that Rupert cared for another girl.
+It was madness, equally unfair to herself and to Charlie, to go on with
+the marriage now. Bertha quite agreed, though she grieved for the boy,
+and regretted how things had turned. ... But, after all, Madeline cared
+for Rupert and she could not be expected to throw away her happiness now
+it was offered to her.
+
+Bertha advised complete frankness all round. The only thing at which she
+hesitated a little was Madeline's intention of telling of her engagement
+to Rupert. She feared a little the effect on the complicated subtlety of
+that conscientious young man. ... However, it was to be.
+
+Fortunately no one as yet knew of the engagement except the very nearest
+relatives. Madeline's mother would only regret bitterly that Madeline
+could not accept them both, it being very rare nowadays for two
+agreeable and eligible young men to propose to one girl in two days.
+
+Nigel was furious and had no patience with these choppings and
+changings, as he called them.
+
+Charlie took it bravely and wrote Madeline a very generous and noble
+letter, which touched her, but it did not alter her intention. She had
+just received it when she went to meet Rupert.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The day which had dragged on with extraordinary excitement and with what
+seemed curious length had just declined in that hour between six and
+seven when the vitality seems to become somewhat lowered; when it is
+neither day nor evening, the stimulation of tea is over and one has not
+begun to dress for dinner.
+
+At this strange moment Madeline burst in again on Bertha and said:
+
+"Bertha, isn't it terrible! I've told him everything and he refuses me.
+He's sent me back. He says if I'm engaged to Charlie it's my duty to
+marry him. He's fearfully hurt with me and shocked at my conduct to
+Charlie. Oh, it's too dreadful; I'm heartbroken!"
+
+"Oh, what an irritating creature!" cried Bertha. "It's just the sort of
+thing he would do. I'd better see him at once, Madeline."
+
+"You can't; he's going to Venice to-night," said Madeline, and burst
+into tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+MORE ABOUT RUPERT
+
+
+Rupert had gone through a great many changes during the last few weeks.
+He had begun to grow rather captivated by Miss Chivvey and in his
+efforts to polish, refine and educate her had become rather carried away
+himself. But towards the end she began to show signs of rebellion; she
+was bored, though impressed. He took her to a serious play and explained
+it all the time, during which she openly yawned. Finally, when she
+insisted on his seeing a statuette made of her by her artistic friend,
+an ignorant, pretentious little creature, known as Mimsie, they
+positively had a quarrel.
+
+"Well, I don't care what you say; I think it's very pretty," when Rupert
+pointed out faults that a child could easily have seen.
+
+"So it may be, my dear child--not that I think it is. But it's
+absolutely without merit; it's very very bad. It could hardly be worse.
+If she went all over London I doubt if she could find a more ridiculous
+thing calling itself a work of art. Can't you see it's like those little
+figures they used to have on old-fashioned Twelfth Cakes, made of
+sugar."
+
+"No, I can't. Shut up! I mayn't know quite so much as you, but ever
+since I was a child everybody's always said I was very artistic."
+
+They were sitting in her mother's drawing-room in Camden Hill. Rupert
+glanced round it: it was a deplorable example of misdirected aims and
+mistaken ambitions; a few yards of beaded curtains which separated it
+from another room gratified Moona with the satisfactory sensation that
+her surroundings were Oriental. As a matter of fact, the decoration was
+so commonplace and vulgar that to attempt to describe it would be
+painful to the writer whilst having no sort of effect on the reader,
+since it was almost indescribable. From the decorative point of view,
+the room was the most unmeaning of failures, the most complete of
+disasters.
+
+Rupert had hoped, nevertheless, to cultivate her taste, and educate her
+generally. He was most anxious of all to explain to her that, so far
+from being artistic, she was the most pretentious of little Philistines.
+Why, indeed, should she be anything else? It was the most irritating
+absurdity that she should think she was, or wish to be.
+
+Rupert was growing weary of this, and beginning to think his object was
+hopeless.
+
+A certain amount of excitement that she had created in him by her
+brusque rudeness, her high spirits, even the jarring of her loud laugh,
+was beginning to lose its effect; or rather the effect was changed.
+Instead of attracting, it irritated him.
+
+About another small subject they had a quarrel--she was beginning to
+order him about, to regard him as her young man, her property--and was
+getting accustomed to what had surprised her at first--that he didn't
+make love to her. She had ordered him to take her somewhere and he had
+refused on the ground that he wanted to stop at home and think!
+
+She let herself go, and when Moona Chivvey lost her temper it was not
+easily forgotten. She insulted him, called him a blighter, a silly ass,
+a mass of affectation.
+
+He accepted it with gallant irony, bowing with a chivalrous humility
+that drove her nearly mad, but he never spoke to her again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Perhaps nothing less than this violent scene would have shaken Rupert
+into examining his own feelings, and with a tremendous rebound he saw
+that he was in love with Madeline, and decided to marry her at once. How
+delighted the dear child would be!
+
+He had seen very little of her lately, and he appreciated her all the
+more.
+
+In her was genuine desire for culture; longing to learn; real refinement
+and intelligence, charm and grace, if not exactly beauty. Ah, those
+sweet, sincere brown eyes! Rupert would live to see her all she should
+be, and there was not the slightest doubt about her happiness with him.
+It never occurred to him for a single moment that anyone else could have
+been trying to take his place. Far less still that she should have
+thought of listening to any other man on earth but himself. When she
+came and told him all that had happened, the shock was great. He had
+never cared for her so much. But he declined to allow her to break her
+engagement; she could not play fast and loose with this unfortunate
+young man, Charlie Hillier, and although she declared, with tears, that
+she should break it off in any case, and never see him again, Rupert
+kept to his resolution, and started for Paris that night.
+
+In answer to one more passionate and pathetic letter from her, he
+consented to write to her as a friend in a fortnight, but he said she
+must have known her own mind when she accepted Charlie.
+
+Rupert clearly felt that he had been very badly treated; he said he
+never would have thought it of her; it was practically treachery.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When he went away he felt very tired, and had had enough, for the
+present, at any rate, of all girls and their instruction. Girls were
+fools.
+
+He looked forward to the soothing consolations of the gaieties of Paris.
+He was not the first to believe that he could leave all his troubles and
+tribulations this side of the Channel.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+"A SPECIAL FAVOUR"
+
+
+"I admire Madeline's conduct very much. I think it was splendid how she
+stood up to all the reproaches, and even ridicule; she told me that she
+had once, and only once, in her life been untrue to herself (she meant
+in accepting Charlie), and since then she has spoken the absolute truth
+to everybody about it all. She has been very plucky, and very
+straightforward, and only good can come of it. Honesty and pluck,
+especially for a girl--it's made so difficult for girls--they're the
+finest things in the world, _I_ think."
+
+Bertha was speaking to Nigel.
+
+He had remained away for what seemed to him an extraordinarily long
+time. He was afraid that she was slipping out of his life, without even
+noticing it. Stopping away until she missed him was a complete failure,
+since she _didn't_ miss him. And the day was approaching for the party
+Mary had consented to give. He knew that Bertha had accepted but was
+afraid she didn't mean to come. That would be too sickening! To have all
+that worry with Mary, all that silly trouble and fuss for a foolish
+entertainment that he detested, all for nothing at all! And Mary was
+secretly enjoying the fact that she felt absolutely certain Percy would
+never let her come to Nigel's house. She did not suppose Percy had
+guessed the writer of the letters; but he must have thought his wife was
+talked about, and some effect certainly they had had; for in the last
+few weeks, she happened to know for a fact, Nigel had neither called on
+or met Mrs. Kellynch. This afternoon she knew nothing of, for her
+suspicions were beginning to fade, and she was not, at present, having
+him followed. Nigel had taken his chance and dropped in to tea and found
+luck was on his side--Bertha had just come in from a drive with
+Madeline.
+
+"It's all very well," he answered, "to say you admire her conduct, her
+bravery, and all that! Whom had she to fight against? Only her mother,
+whom she isn't a bit afraid of, and Charlie, who, poor chap, is more
+afraid of her. The engagement wasn't even public before she broke it
+off."
+
+"Yes; but, Nigel, it was very frank of her to tell everything so openly
+to Charlie. And now, poor girl, she's very unhappy, but very
+courageous--she's absolutely resolved never to marry. She says she's
+lost her Rupert by her own faults, and it serves her right."
+
+"And suppose Rupert goes teaching English to an Italian girl at Venice,
+or gives her history lessons, or anything? Now he's once thought of
+marrying, he may marry his third pupil. Wouldn't Charlie have a chance
+then?"
+
+"Never, unfortunately," Bertha replied.
+
+"Do you think she'd wait on the chance that Rupert might have a
+divorce?"
+
+"Nigel, how horrid you are to sneer like that. You never appreciated
+Madeline!"
+
+"I think I did, my dear, considering I was especially keen on her
+marrying my brother, even when I knew she liked somebody else."
+
+"Oh, that was only for him."
+
+"Or, perhaps, do you think a little for me? I might have felt if my
+brother married your greatest friend that we were sort of relations," he
+said, with a laugh.
+
+Bertha glanced at the clock.
+
+"You can't send me away just this minute," he said. "You like honesty
+and frankness, and I've honestly come to ask you--are you coming to my
+party?"
+
+Bertha paused a moment.
+
+"Why?" she said. "Do you very particularly want me to?"
+
+"Very. And I'll tell you the reason. It's to please Mary."
+
+"Why should Mary care?"
+
+"Bertha, I give you my word that she'll be terribly disappointed and
+offended if you don't. And"--he waited a moment--"I hardly know how to
+explain--it'll do me harm if you don't come--you and Percy. I can't
+exactly explain. Do me this good turn, Bertha. A special favour, won't
+you?"
+
+He was artfully trying to suggest what he supposed to be the exact
+contrary to the fact. He knew Mary would be wild with joy if Bertha did
+not come, though he had no idea how extremely astonished and furious she
+would be if she should arrive, considering she had accepted. Of course
+in reality Mary thought nothing of the acceptance. She was both certain
+and determined that her "door would not be darkened" by Bertha's
+presence.
+
+Bertha had not intended to go since she saw Percy's pleasure and relief
+at the cessation of the intimacy. But now? After all, Percy couldn't
+mind going in with her for a few minutes if she begged him.
+
+"If you tell me it'll do you a good turn, Nigel--but I don't
+understand!"
+
+"Do you wish me to explain?"
+
+"No, I don't. I'll take your word. But all the more I don't want you to
+be always calling. I'm afraid Mary doesn't like me."
+
+"It isn't that exactly."
+
+Bertha thought of her own happiness with Percy. Her warm, kind heart
+made her say gently:
+
+"Nigel, I hope you're nice and considerate to Mary? You make her happy?"
+
+"Doesn't this look like it?" he answered. "She'll be in a state if you
+don't turn up." He sighed. "I've never said a word about it, but she's
+rather trying and tiresome if you want to know."
+
+"Then I'm very, very sorry for her," said Bertha, "and you can't do
+enough for her. ... Why, with those lovely children I'm sure she'd be
+ideally happy if----"
+
+"Oh, you think, of course, it's my fault. It never occurs to you whether
+I'm happy!"
+
+A look from her which she tried to repress reminded him of his
+deliberate choice. He thought the time had come to make her a little
+sorry for him, knowing her extreme tenderness of heart. He spoke in a
+lower voice, and looked away.
+
+"If I'm sometimes a bit miserable, it serves me right."
+
+"Be good to her," said Bertha.
+
+"I'll do anything on earth you'll tell me."
+
+"What are the children's names?"
+
+"Nigel and Marjorie."
+
+"Darling pets, I suppose?"
+
+"Isn't it extraordinary, Bertha," he said. "I've no right to say it to
+you, but that's my great trouble."
+
+"What?"
+
+"She doesn't care much about them."
+
+"I don't believe it," said Bertha, shaking her head. "It's you who are
+mistaken."
+
+"Am I?"
+
+"Nigel, remember, I know you pretty well."
+
+"And you think I'm trying to make you sorry for me?"
+
+"I won't say that. But you ought to be happy, and so ought your wife."
+
+He spoke in a different tone, with his usual cheery smile.
+
+"Well, if you will grace our entertainment, I promise we will be happy.
+Do come, Bertha!" He was taking all this trouble simply so as not to
+have a boring evening at his own home!
+
+"Very well, Nigel," she answered, with a kind, frank smile. "I'll come.
+Lately Percy's had so much work that in the evenings he hasn't been very
+keen on going out to parties."
+
+"And you don't go without him?" he asked with curiosity.
+
+"No. Aren't I unfashionable?"
+
+"You're delightful."
+
+"Good-bye," she said, holding out her hand.
+
+He took it, and held it, saying:
+
+"And now I sha'n't see you again until a few minutes at the party, and
+heaven knows when after that."
+
+"I'll bring Madeline. Shall I?"
+
+"Oh yes, do. It'll be _some_ party, as the Americans say, and Charlie
+won't be there."
+
+"Good-bye again."
+
+"What are you going to wear?" he asked, in his old, brotherly voice,
+lingering by the door.
+
+"Salmon-coloured chiffon with a mayonnaise sash," she answered, fairly
+pushing him out of the room. "Do go."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A DEVOTED WIFE
+
+
+To anyone who knew Percy Kellynch and his wife, it would have been a
+matter of some surprise to observe the extreme enthusiasm and devotion
+that she showed for him. He was an excellent fellow, and had many good
+qualities, but he was not mentally by any means anything at all
+extraordinary; she was a very much more highly organised being in every
+possible way than he was. Percy was exceedingly kind and straight, yet
+there were, doubtless, many thousands of men exactly like him in
+England. In his rather simple and commonplace point of view he was,
+perhaps more like an ordinary English soldier than a barrister. He did
+not worship false gods, but, not being a soldier, and having perhaps
+learnt more of life in some respects than they generally do, he was
+inclined to be rather surprised at his own cleverness. In a quiet way he
+had a high opinion of himself. He had been disposed to be a superior
+young man at twenty, and now, at thirty, he was not without a tinge of
+self-satisfaction, even pompousness. That his quickly discerning, subtle
+little wife should like and appreciate his good qualities; that she
+should, being of an affectionate nature, value him, was not surprising;
+but that, with her sense of humour and remarkable quickness, even depth
+of intellect, she should absolutely worship and adore him--for it
+amounted to that--was rather a matter of astonishment. But it must be
+remembered that her first love, Nigel Hillier, when she was eighteen,
+was, obviously, just exactly what one would have expected to dazzle
+her--quick, lively, fascinating and witty--this early romance had been a
+terrible disappointment. Bertha had bravely been prepared to wait for
+years, or to marry him on the moment; she had not the faintest idea that
+the money difficulties would be used to put an end to it on _his_ side.
+When he had broken it off, saying that he feared her father was right,
+and that it was for her sake, she was terribly pained, seeing at once
+that his love was not of the same quality as hers. But when, in less
+than a week after that, he told her of his other engagement, it very
+nearly broke her heart, as the phrase goes. Yet she cured herself; and
+considering how young she was, she had an astonishing power of
+self-control; she was almost cured of her love, if not her grief, in a
+fortnight! She accepted Percy at the time without romance, though with a
+great liking, and looking up to him with a certain trust, but very soon
+the good qualities, in which he differed so remarkably from Nigel, and
+even the points in which he was deficient and in which Nigel excelled,
+made her care for him more. As the years went on, Bertha, who could do
+nothing by halves, began to adore Percy more and more. She thought
+absolutely nothing of Nigel at all, so very little that she had let him
+dangle about without a thought of the past, being under the impression
+that he was contented in his married life. When he began again to find
+excuses to see her, and to start a sort of friendship, she did not
+discourage it, for the very reason that she wanted him to see that
+chapter in her life was absolutely closed and forgotten.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+His extreme desire that she should come to their entertainment, his
+various implications--that Mary should think there was something in it
+if she didn't come--then this new suggestion that he was not happy at
+home, and, on looking back, Percy's extraordinary behaviour, suddenly
+made her see things in a different light. She saw that Nigel probably
+now imagined himself in love with her, and that it was not entirely
+Percy's imagination; that it was even more necessary than she had
+thought to put an end to the friendship. It made her furious when she
+thought of it--the selfishness, the treachery--meanly to throw her over
+because Mary was rich, and afterwards to try and come back and spoil
+both their homes in amusing himself by a romance with her. Even if
+Bertha had not cared for her husband, Nigel would have been the very
+last man in the world she could have looked upon from that point of
+view. Amusing as he was, she never thought of him without a slightly
+contemptuous smile. And she loved Percy so very much; he was so entirely
+without self-interest: he might have a certain amount of harmless
+vanity, but he was purely unworldly, generous, broadminded and good, and
+his own advantage was the very last thing that ever entered his head.
+
+Until the trouble about Nigel she had feared he was growing cold, but
+Percy's conduct on that subject had thoroughly satisfied her. He had
+been very jealous but kind to her: he trusted and believed in her when
+she was frank, and he certainly seemed more in love with her than ever.
+Percy was so reliable, so true and _real_. She took up the dignified,
+charmingly flattered photograph of him. ... What a noble forehead! What
+a beautiful figure he had! And though he seemed so calm and so cold, he
+was passionate and could be violent. His intellect was not above the
+average, but his power of emotion most certainly was. ... Dear Percy!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And now she had promised to go to Nigel's house, she would get Percy to
+agree that evening.
+
+Bertha told him of Nigel's visit, and of the request.
+
+He frowned.
+
+"You've accepted, and that's enough. I suppose you had to say you were
+going. You can easily write Mrs. Hillier an excuse the next day. Dozens
+of people will do it."
+
+"Percy, I want to go."
+
+He looked up angrily and in surprise.
+
+"You want to go? You certainly can't. I don't wish it. Why, remember
+what you promised. Is this infernal intimacy beginning again?"
+
+"Percy, to-day is only the third time I've seen him since we talked
+about it! And I hadn't the faintest idea he was coming to-day. I was
+surprised and annoyed to see him. Since Madeline broke it off with
+Charlie, we've heard nothing about them. Don't you believe me?"
+
+"Naturally, I do. But it's a very odd thing a man should call here, and
+beg you to promise to come to his wife's party! Isn't it?"
+
+"Perhaps it is. We stopped seeing him so suddenly, you see."
+
+"What's that got to do with it?" said Percy, with angry impatience. The
+typewritten letters were torturing him. He had long been ashamed of not
+having shown them to Bertha, and made a clean breast of it. It was
+another reason why he hated Nigel and wanted the whole subject
+absolutely put aside and forgotten.
+
+"In my opinion it suggests a very curious relation his coming here
+to-day like this. Not on your side, dear," he continued gently, putting
+his hand on hers. "But, if you don't mind my saying so, you don't know
+very much of the world, dear little Bertha, and in your innocence you
+are liable to be imprudent."
+
+This was Percy's mistaken view of Bertha, but she did not dislike it.
+She was so determined now to be completely open that she did not try to
+put him off, and said candidly:
+
+"It may be perfectly true that he's rather more anxious for me to be at
+the party than he need be. But, after all, there's not much harm in
+that, Percy. All I want is to go in with you for twenty minutes or
+half-an-hour, and then go away quite quickly. After that, if you like,
+I'll give you my word of honour not to see him again."
+
+"What's the object of it? No, I'm hanged if I go to that man's house."
+
+"I promised as a special favour that I'd go."
+
+"But what's the reason? Why is he so desperate you should be seen
+there?"
+
+Percy frowned and thought a moment.
+
+"Has his wife--do you think it's been noticed he doesn't come here so
+often?"
+
+"It may have been. He didn't say so."
+
+"Then it's damned impertinence of him to dare to come and ask you. Why
+should I take you there to make things comfortable with him and his
+wife?"
+
+"Oh, Percy!"
+
+"I don't want to have anything to do with them," Percy repeated,
+frowning angrily at her.
+
+She paused and said sweetly:
+
+"Don't look worried, darling. Won't you anyhow think it over for a day
+or two?"
+
+Percy thought. He was a lawyer and it struck him that if the letters
+were to be really ignored it might be better for them to go in and be
+seen at the party, and if Bertha promised never to see him again, he
+knew she was telling the truth. But it was hard; it jarred on him.
+
+"We'll leave the subject for a few days, Bertha," he said. "I'll think
+it over. But what I decide then must be final."
+
+"Very well, Percy. ... I've got _such_ a lovely new dress! Pale primrose
+colour."
+
+"The dress I saw you trying on? The canary dress?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"No. I'm hanged if you'll wear that there!" he exclaimed.
+
+Bertha went into fits of laughter.
+
+"Oh, Percy, _how_ sweet of you to say that! You're becoming a regular
+jealous husband, do you know? Darling! How delightful!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+RUPERT AGAIN
+
+
+After the first reaction, Rupert felt, of course, to a certain extent,
+relieved and grateful to think that he was not engaged to Madeline.
+Undoubtedly, had he cared for her as she did for him, he would not have
+declined to marry her because of her accepting Charlie, more or less out
+of pique, or in despair. Yet, after having once really proposed he felt
+his emotions stirred, and almost as soon as he had sent her back (so to
+speak) to Charlie, he began to regret it--he began to be unhappy. _Au
+fond_ he knew she would break it off with Charlie now, and would wait
+vaguely in hope for him. At first to recover from the intense annoyance
+of the whole thing, he thought he would, before Venice, go in a little
+for the gaieties of Paris. Rupert was still young enough to believe that
+the things presented to him as gaiety must necessarily be gay. A certain
+delicacy prevented his telling Madeline this now; though formerly when
+he had been to Paris, especially when he had had no intention of
+accepting any Parisian opportunities of amusement, he had often rubbed
+it in to her about the dazzling and dangerous charms of the gay city's
+dissipations, at which she was suitably impressed. But a nicer feeling
+made him now wish her to think of him as gliding down the lagoons of
+Venice, and dreaming of what might have been.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Madeline herself was really entirely without hope. She was certain she
+had lost all the prestige that she had had in his eyes; and she thought
+that she thoroughly deserved what had happened. She resolved to remain
+unmarried, and try to do good. Though she was hurt, and thought it
+showed how much less was Rupert's love than hers, still she respected
+him and admired him all the more for refusing to take her after
+accepting Charlie. She did not see that Rupert was a little too serious
+to be taken quite seriously.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Her mother added immensely to her depression. Mrs. Irwin was a woman who
+detested facts, so much so that she thought statistics positively
+indecent (though she would never have used the expression). When she was
+told there were more women than men in England, she would bite her lips
+and change the subject. She had had all the Victorian intense desire to
+see her daughter married young, and all the Victorian almost absurd
+delicacy in pretending she didn't. When, in one week, her only
+daughter--a girl who was not remarkably pretty, and had only a little
+money--should have proposals from no less than two attractive and
+eligible young men and should have muddled it up so badly that, though
+she had been prepared to accept both of them, she was now unable to
+marry either, her mother was, naturally, pained and disgusted.
+
+Madeline, who was usually gentle and amiable to her, in this case spoke
+with a violence and determination that left no possible hope of her
+returning to Charlie Hillier. She left Mrs. Irwin nothing to do but to
+put on an air of refined resignation, of having neuralgia, which she now
+called neuritis, because Madeline had annoyed her so much, and of
+behaving, when Madeline sat with her, as much as possible like a person
+who was somewhere else.
+
+Bertha was Madeline's only consolation and resource. Bertha took life
+with such delightful coolness.
+
+"How would you advise me to behave to him, if it _had_ come off--I mean
+if I _had_ married Rupert?" Madeline asked Bertha.
+
+She was fond of these problematical speculations.
+
+"I should say be an angel, if he deserved it, or a devil if he
+appreciated it. Then--now and then--be non-existent, charming and
+indifferent, when you wanted to hedge--when there was no particular
+response. You'll go with me to the Hilliers' party, won't you, as
+Charlie will be away?"
+
+"Of course I will--if you like. But will Percy go--and let you go?"
+
+"He says he won't, but I think he will," she replied.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE HILLIERS' ENTERTAINMENT
+
+
+No more had been said between them about the Hilliers' party; and Percy
+began to hope that it would be dropped. But on the morning Bertha asked
+him if he would like to take her out to dinner first with Madeline;
+assuming that, as he had said no more about it, he intended to go.
+
+With those letters upstairs in the box, how could he?
+
+"I simply can't," he answered. "I don't wish to go to that man's house."
+
+"Then must I take Madeline alone?" said Bertha. "In all these years,
+Percy, I don't think I've ever been to a party without you."
+
+"And I don't see why you should begin now," he answered.
+
+"But, Percy, I want to go. Only for a few minutes."
+
+"I'd much rather you didn't."
+
+Bertha thought this tyrannical. She had promised Nigel, because he had
+implied to her that it would get him out of the domestic difficulty.
+
+"Oh, do, Percy dear. It's treating me as if you didn't trust me. After
+all ... if you like I'll swear to arrange never to see Nigel again."
+
+"I wish you would."
+
+"It's only because I think it would look marked."
+
+Percy thought there was something in that, and he didn't dislike the
+idea of proving to the person, whoever it was, that had written the
+letters, how little effect they had had. Yet, they had left a tinge of
+jealousy that would easily be roused again, especially at her
+insistence. He noticed that she didn't make the fact that she was
+chaperoning Madeline an excuse, as most women would have done. She was
+frank about it. Still, he tried once more.
+
+"I don't want you to go."
+
+"But I want to."
+
+She was not particularly fond of opposition, and began to look annoyed.
+She thought Percy was beginning to sit on her a little too much.
+
+"Well," he said, "I shall not dine out with you and Madeline first: I
+don't care to. But I'll hire an electric motor for you at eleven, and it
+shall fetch you at twelve-thirty. If Madeline doesn't want to come
+then, she can easily go back alone. It isn't far for her."
+
+"Oh, she won't want to stop any longer than that."
+
+"Oh, very well, we'll leave it like that. I shall dine at the club."
+
+"It's unkind of you. I believe you don't want to see me start."
+
+"You're quite right. I hate the idea of your appearing there in your
+lovely new dress. I suppose you want to wear it?"
+
+"Oh, I don't care in the least," she answered, "if you'd rather not."
+
+"Oh, hang it! Wear what you like," he answered rather crossly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+She did not see him again before she started, and, naturally, being a
+woman, she put on the new dress.
+
+It was pale yellow, and she knew Percy would have liked it and would
+have called her a canary.
+
+She went out, not in the best of tempers, and Madeline also, though
+looking very charming, did not look forward to the entertainment, and
+was thinking, with rather an aching heart, of Rupert in the lagoons of
+Venice.
+
+The Hilliers' house was arranged with the utmost gorgeousness. Nigel
+felt a little return of his pride in it to-night. It was covered all
+over with rambler roses, and looked magnificent. There was such a crowd
+that Nigel hoped to get a little talk alone with Bertha, but feared she
+would not come. He was agreeably surprised to see her arrive alone with
+Madeline.
+
+It so happened that Mary was not in the room when they were announced,
+and very soon Nigel managed to take her down, first into the
+refreshment-room, and then into the boudoir, which had been arranged
+with draperies and shaded lights.
+
+"I just want to have a few words with you," he said, and got her into a
+little corner.
+
+There was a heavy scent of roses; the music sounded faintly.
+
+"Bertha!" he said. "It was too sweet of you to come. I shall never
+forget it. You don't know how miserable I am."
+
+"Oh, rubbish!" she answered. "You've no earthly reason to be. I wish you
+wouldn't talk nonsense."
+
+"I've never seen you look so lovely."
+
+"I shall go away if you talk like that. Can't you see I don't like it?"
+
+"I wonder Percy allowed you to come alone, looking like that."
+
+"I came because I promised," she said. "You made me think, in some
+mysterious way, it would be a good thing for you. But after what you
+said about Mary, I want this to be distinctly understood: you are not to
+come and see me any more. Nothing in the world I should loathe so much
+as to be the cause of any trouble."
+
+"Oh, my dear, but that you never could," he answered quickly.
+
+"I hope not, and I'm not going to risk it. You chose your life, Nigel,
+and you have every reason to be happy."
+
+"Have I? You don't know."
+
+"Think of your children. I haven't got that pleasure, and yet I'm
+happy."
+
+"Are you madly in love with Percy?" he asked, with a smile.
+
+"Yes, I am," she answered.
+
+At this moment a small crowd of people came in at the door. Mary, who
+was with them, looked hurriedly round the room, and seeing Bertha and
+Nigel in the corner, called him, taking no notice of her.
+
+Bertha half rose, intending to go and shake hands with her, and Nigel
+quickly went to meet her, but Bertha paused, thinking Mary looked
+strange. She was very pale, and the white dress she wore made her look
+paler against her dull red hair. She wore a tiara, which seemed a
+little crooked, and her hair was disarranged. She was pale and
+trembling, but spoke in a loud voice that Bertha could hear. Within two
+yards of her, she said to Nigel, gesticulating with a feather fan:
+
+"If you don't make that woman go away at once, I shall make a public
+scene!"
+
+Bertha started up and looked at her in astonishment.
+
+Mary, glaring at her, and still talking loudly, allowed Nigel to lead
+her out of the room.
+
+He then came back.
+
+"I think my wife's gone mad! Forgive her. She's ill, or something."
+
+"I'm going now at once," said Bertha calmly. "Have a cab called for me,
+and let Madeline know that the motor will be here for her at half-past
+twelve. Leave me now--I don't want anything."
+
+"For God's sake forgive me. She's off her head," said Nigel
+incoherently.
+
+At her wish he ran upstairs.
+
+Bertha got her cloak, and telling a friend she met that she was going on
+to a dance, she got into a taxi and went home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+BERTHA AT HOME
+
+
+Bertha drove back, furiously angry, principally with Nigel, whom she
+also pitied a little. It could be no joke to live with a woman like his
+wife. But he should not have deceived Bertha; he should have let her
+know; he should not have induced her to come against Percy's wish, at
+the risk of being insulted.
+
+She was not anxious about Madeline, knowing that that sensible young
+lady would go to her own home when the carriage came, and that she could
+explain matters to her the next morning. Madeline was not _une faiseuse
+d'embarras_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha had brought her key as Percy had promised to wait up for her; the
+servants were to be allowed to go to bed. It was not long after twelve;
+she saw a light in the library and went in, fully intending to tell
+Percy everything.
+
+She found him sitting by the fire, with a book. He had fallen asleep.
+She watched him for some moments, and she thought he looked pale and a
+little worried. ... How wilful, how foolish it had been of her to go to
+the party without him! What did it matter? How trivial to insist on her
+own way! How ungrateful! For lately Percy had been devoted. And how
+lucky she was that he should care for her so much, after all these
+years.
+
+As Bertha watched, she felt that strange suffering which is always the
+other side of intense love--the reverse of the medal of the ecstasy of
+passion--and she thought she would tell him nothing about it. Why should
+he be hurt, annoyed, and humiliated? It would spoil all the pleasure of
+her coming back so early--the unexpected delightful time they might
+have. ... In this Bertha committed an error of judgment, for she forgot
+that he would probably hear of the scene some time or other, and would
+attach more importance to it than if she told him now.
+
+"Percy," she whispered.
+
+He woke up.
+
+"You already! Why, it's only twelve o'clock! Oh, dear, how good of you
+to come so early."
+
+"I didn't enjoy myself a bit," she murmured. "I'll never go out without
+you again. Do forgive me for going!"
+
+"How is it you didn't enjoy it?"
+
+"Because you hadn't seen me in my new dress. Do I look like a canary?"
+
+"No," he said. "Let me look at you. No, you're not a canary--you're a
+Bird of Paradise."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+NIGEL'S LETTER
+
+
+Next morning, as Bertha expected, Madeline came round to see her early.
+She brought with her a note. She said that Nigel had implored her to
+give it to her friend from him. He had put Madeline in the carriage, and
+had seemed greatly distressed. He told the girl that his wife had been
+ill lately and was not quite herself, and he feared she had offended
+Bertha.
+
+"She certainly behaved like a lunatic," Bertha said, as she took the
+letter.
+
+"Did you tell Percy?"
+
+"As a matter of fact, no."
+
+"Didn't he wonder at your coming home so early?"
+
+"I'm afraid I pretended I rushed back to please him. Was it wrong of me?
+I'm afraid it was."
+
+"I believe in frankness with people you can trust. And remember, quite a
+little while ago, Bertha, you were worried and depressed because you
+thought Percy was becoming a little casual and like an ordinary husband,
+and now, you naughty child, that he's been so _empressé_ and
+affectionate, and jealous and attentive and everything that you
+like--now you first insist on going to a party when he doesn't wish it,
+and then you come home and tell him stories about it."
+
+"I'm afraid I was wrong; but it was to spare him annoyance. Besides, I
+daresay I was weak. It was so delightful giving him a pleasant
+surprise."
+
+She read the letter.
+
+    "Forgive me for asking your friend to give you this note--I only
+    did it because I feared in writing to you to refer to what
+    happened. Is it asking too much, Bertha, to beg you not to
+    resent it? Not to hate me for to-night? Think of my shame and
+    misery about it--to think I had pressed and begged you to come
+    to be insulted in my house. You see now what I have tried to
+    conceal. I am utterly miserable. My wife is terrible and
+    impossible. Seeing you occasionally had been my one joy--my only
+    consolation. And only to-night--before--you had been telling me
+    not to come and see you any more. Now I feel our friendship is
+    all over. I could not expect you to see me again. You are such
+    an angel, that you will, if I ask you, I believe, try to wipe
+    out from your memory this horrible evening! I would rather have
+    died than it should have happened. Of course, you see now that
+    by instinct Mary guessed right--I mean in knowing my feeling for
+    you--though heaven knows I haven't deserved this. She's
+    screaming for me, and I must stop. All I ask is, don't hate me!
+    I'm so miserable when I think that you, beautiful angel as you
+    are, might have belonged to me. I doubt if I shall be able to
+    live this life much longer.
+
+    "In humblest apology, and with that deep feeling that writing
+    can never express, your idolising
+
+        "NIGEL.
+
+    "_P.S._--I ought not to have written that. But I fear so much
+    that I may not see you again, and that this may be my last
+    letter, and I feel I would like you to know honestly all I feel
+    for you. But words may not bear such burdens. Send me one word,
+    only one word of pardon."
+
+Bertha was obviously shocked and surprised at this letter. She folded it
+up, looking grave. Then she said to Madeline:
+
+"What a very extraordinary thing it has been that both Mary and Percy
+have been suspicious and jealous of Nigel and myself, while there's
+been absolutely nothing in it!"
+
+"But they both felt by instinct, perhaps, that that was no fault of
+his," returned Madeline.
+
+"I have no sympathy with him," said Bertha, who seemed for her quite
+hard. "If he does like me, all the more he ought to have kept away.
+Besides, it's only because he wants to be amused! What right has he to
+make his wife unhappy, when he deliberately chose her, and to be
+willing--if he is willing--to smash up my happiness with Percy?"
+
+"Of course that's horrid of him," said Madeline; "but somehow I do think
+his wife is rather awful; I think she might do anything. But won't you
+answer his letter?"
+
+"Yes; I think I'd better write him a line," said Bertha.
+
+She sat down and wrote:
+
+    "DEAR MR. HILLIER,--Pray don't think again of the unpleasant
+    little incident.
+
+    "I have already forgotten it.
+
+    "I think that if you will make your children the interest of
+    your life--though it's very impertinent of me to say
+    so--happiness must come of it.
+
+    "Good-bye. Yours very sincerely,
+
+        "BERTHA KELLYNCH"
+
+"I've written," said Bertha, "what I wouldn't mind either Percy or Mary
+seeing."
+
+"I'm sure you have, dear. But Percy would rather you didn't write at
+all."
+
+"Perhaps. But I think it's right. Besides, otherwise, he might write
+again, or even call."
+
+"Yes, that's true."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+LADY KELLYNCH AT HOME
+
+
+Although Lady Kellynch was a widow, and had had two sons (at the unusual
+interval of eighteen years), there was something curiously old-maidish
+about her--I should say that she had a set of qualities that were
+formerly known by that expression, as there are no such things nowadays
+as old maids and maiden aunts as contrasted to British matrons. There
+are merely married or unmarried women. And Lady Kellynch belonged to a
+long-forgotten type; she was no suffragette; politics did not touch her,
+and at fifty-four she did not regard herself as the modern middle-aged
+woman does. It never occurred to her for a moment, for example, to have
+lessons in the Tango or to learn ski-ing or any other winter sports, in
+a white jersey and cap. She was not seen clinging to the arm of a
+professor of roller-skating, nor did she go to fancy-dress balls as
+Folly or Romeo, as a Pierrette or Joan of Arc, as many of her
+contemporaries loved to do. She dressed magnificently and in the fashion
+of the day, and yet she always remained and looked extremely
+old-fashioned; and though she would wear her hats as they were made
+nowadays, her hair then had a look that did not go with it; no
+hairdresser or milliner could ever induce her to do it in a style later
+than 1887. The larger number of women have had some period of their
+lives when the fashion has happened to suit them, or when, for some
+reason or another, they have had a special success, and most of these
+cling fondly to that epoch. Lady Kellynch never got away from 1887 and
+the time of Queen Victoria's first Jubilee. All the fads of the hour
+seemed to have passed over her since then, from bicycling to flying,
+from classical dancing or ragtime to enthusiasm about votes for women;
+the various movements had passed over her without leaving any hurt or
+effect. Lady Kellynch had had a success in 1887; she cherished tenderly
+a photograph of herself in an enormous bustle, with an impossibly small
+waist, a thick high fringe over her eyes, and a tight dog-collar. The
+bald bare look about the ears, and the extraordinary figure resembling a
+switchback made her look very much older then than she did now. But more
+than one smart young soldier (now, probably, steady retired generals,
+who passed their time saying that the country was going to the dogs), an
+attaché long since married and sunk into domestic life, and one or two
+other men had greatly admired her; she had had her little dignified
+flirtations, much as she adored the late Sir Percy Kellynch; her
+portrait had been painted by Herkomer, and the Prince of Wales (as he
+then was) had looked at her through his opera glass during the
+performance of Gounod's _Romeo and Juliet_. These were things not to be
+forgotten. When her husband died, Percy married and Clifford went to
+school, and Lady Kellynch was left alone in her big house in South
+Kensington, she became again what I call old-maidish. She had a hundred
+little rules and fussy little arrangements, of which the slightest
+disorganisation drove her to distraction. She had long consultations
+every day with the cook at nine o'clock as to what was to be done with
+what was left. She liked to be domestic, and would stand over the man
+who was cleaning the windows and tell him how to do it. Certain things
+she liked to do herself.
+
+In the drawing-room was a chandelier of the seventies, beautiful in its
+way, though out of date, and she used to take the lustres down and
+polish them with her own fingers, taking a great pride in doing this
+herself. She cared really for no one in the world but her two sons, but
+she was extremely fond, in her own way, of society and of receiving. She
+did not keep open house, and hers was not by any means casual
+hospitality. She hated anyone to call upon her unexpected and uninvited,
+except on the first and third Thursday of every month. She was very much
+surprised that in the rush of the present day people had a way of
+forgetting these days and calling on others. The first Thursday was
+peculiarly ill-treated and ignored, and preparations on that day were
+often wasted, while on the second Thursday she would come home and find
+a quantity of cards, belonging to more or less smart, if dull, people
+who had left them, with a sigh of relief at their mistake.
+
+Lady Kellynch was good-natured in a cold kind of way, and even lavish;
+yet she had her queer, petty economies, and was always talking about a
+mysterious feat that she spoke of as _keeping the books down_, and was
+also fond of discovering tiny little dressmakers who used to be with
+some celebrated one and had now set up for themselves.
+
+Lady Kellynch was very kind to these little dressmakers--she spoke of
+them as if they were minute to the point of being midgets or
+dwarfs--she was really rather the curse of their lives, and after a
+while they would have been glad to dispense with her custom. She wanted
+them to do impossibilities, such as making her look exactly as she did
+at Queen Victoria's first Jubilee (the time when she was so much admired
+and had such a success), and yet making her look up-to-date now, without
+any of the horrid fast modern style.
+
+When Clifford was at home things were considerably turned upside down,
+and when the time of his holidays drew to an end she was conscious of
+being relieved.
+
+It was the first Thursday, and Lady Kellynch was at home. A day or two
+before Clifford had spent a day with Pickering and his mother. She had
+told him he might ask the boy to tea.
+
+"Mother," said Clifford, who had received a note, "Pickering can't come
+to-day."
+
+"Oh, indeed--what a pity."
+
+She was really rather glad. Boys at an At Home were a bore and ate all
+the cake.
+
+"Er--no--he can't come. But, I say, you won't mind, will you?--his
+mother's coming."
+
+"His mother!" exclaimed Lady Kellynch, rather surprised.
+
+"Er--yes--I asked her. I thought, perhaps, you wouldn't mind. She wants
+to know you."
+
+"Really? It's very kind of her, I'm sure."
+
+"You see, in a way, though she's awfully rich--I suppose she's a bit of
+a--you know what I mean--a sort of a _nouveau riche_. She wants to visit
+a few decent people, especially not too young."
+
+"Oh, indeed!"
+
+"She says it'll sort of pose her, and help her to get into society."
+
+"What curious things to say to a boy."
+
+"Oh, she's awfully jolly, mother. She says everything that comes into
+her head. She's ripping--I do like her."
+
+"Who was she?" asked his mother, with a rather chilling accent.
+
+"I'm sure I don't know who she was," said the boy. "I can tell you who
+she is: she's the prettiest woman I've ever seen."
+
+"Good gracious me!"
+
+"We had awful larks," went on Clifford. "She played with us and
+Pickering's kiddy sister. We danced the Tango and had charades. You
+can't think what fun it was. And we had tableaux. Mrs. Pickering and I
+did a lovely tableau, 'Death in the Desert.' She fell down dead
+suddenly, on the sand, you know, and I was a vulture. I'm an awfully
+good vulture. And I vultured about and hopped round her for some
+considerable time."
+
+"Horrible!" cried Lady Kellynch. "Revolting! What an unpleasant subject
+for a game."
+
+"It wasn't a game: it was a proper tableau: we had a curtain and all
+that sort of thing. They said I made a capital vulture. I pecked at Mrs.
+Pickering. It was a great success."
+
+"Dear me! Was it indeed? Well, if this lady's coming, you'd better go
+and wash your hands," said Lady Kellynch, who felt a disposition to snub
+Clifford on the subject.
+
+"Of course I will! I say, mother, what cakes have you got?"
+
+"Really, Clifford, I think you can leave that to me."
+
+"They have jolly little _foie gras_ sandwiches at the Pickerings."
+
+"I daresay they have."
+
+"Can I go and tell cook to make some?"
+
+"Most certainly not, Clifford!" cried the indignant mother.
+
+"But if there aren't any, she might miss them," said Clifford.
+
+"She will probably enjoy the change."
+
+"You can't think how pretty she is! I say, mother."
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"I say, can't you have fur put round the edge of your shoes!"
+
+"Fur round the edge of my shoes!" she repeated in a hollow voice.
+
+He twisted his hands together self-consciously.
+
+"Mrs. Pickering had an awful ripping violet sort of dress, and violet
+satin boots with fur round the edge. ... I noticed them when we played
+'Death in the Desert.' I thought they were rather pretty."
+
+"Extremely bad style, I should think. At any rate, not the sort of thing
+that I should dream of wearing. Now get along."
+
+Clifford went down to the kitchen and worried the cook with descriptions
+of the gorgeous cakes he had seen at the Pickerings till she said that
+his ma had better accept her notice, and engage the Pickerings' cook
+instead.
+
+"Orders from you, Master Clifford, I will not take. And now you've got
+it straight. _For grars_ in the afternoon is a thing I don't hold with
+and never would hold with, and I've lived in the best families. There's
+some nice sandwiches made of _gentlemen's relish_ made of Blootes'
+paste, your ma's always 'ad since I've been here; it's done for her and
+the best families I've lived in. _Fors grars_ is served at the end of
+dinner with apsia and jelly, or else in one of them things with crust on
+the top and truffles. But for tea I consider it quite out of place."
+
+She went on to say that if she couldn't have her kitchen to herself
+without the young gentlemen of the house putting their oar in, she would
+leave that day month.
+
+Clifford fled, frightened, and tidied himself.
+
+At about five, when two or three old cronies of Lady Kellynch's were
+sitting round, talking about the royal family, a gigantic motor, painted
+white, came to the door, and Mrs. Pickering was announced.
+
+She was very young and very pretty. Her hair was the very brightest
+gold, and she had rather too much mauve and too much smile; she almost
+curtsied to her hostess, and instantly gave that lady the impression
+that she must have been not so very long ago the principal boy at some
+popular pantomime.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+MRS. PICKERING
+
+
+"Our boys are such very great friends--I really felt I must know you!"
+cried Mrs. Pickering in the most cordial way. She spoke with a very
+slight Cockney accent. She bristled with aigrettes and sparkled with
+jewels. Her bodice was cut very low, her sleeves very short, and her
+white gloves came over the braceleted elbows. She wore a very high,
+narrow turban, green satin shoes and stockings, and altogether was
+dressed rather excessively; she looked like one of Louis Bauer's
+drawings in _Punch_. She was certainly most striking in appearance, and
+a little alarming in a quiet room, but most decidedly pretty and with a
+very pleasant smile.
+
+Lady Kellynch received her with great courtesy, but was not sufficiently
+adaptable and subtle to conceal at once the fact that Mrs. Pickering's
+general appearance and manner had completely taken her breath away.
+Also, she was annoyed that Lady Gertrude Münster was there to-day. Lady
+Gertrude was one of her great cards. She was a clever, glib,
+battered-looking, elderly woman, who, since her husband had once been at
+the Embassy in Vienna, had assumed a slight foreign accent; it was meant
+to be Austrian but sounded Scotch. Lady Gertrude looked rather muffled
+and seemed to have more thick veils and feather boas on than was
+necessary for the time of the year. She was an old friend of Lady
+Kellynch's, and they detested each other, but never missed an
+opportunity of meeting, chiefly in order to impress each other, in one
+way or another, or cause each other envy or annoyance.
+
+Lady Kellynch was always very specially careful whom she asked, or
+allowed, to meet Lady Gertrude. She had wanted Bertha particularly
+to-day and was vexed at this unexpected arrival.
+
+"Your daughter-in-law, my dear?" asked Lady Gertrude, in a surprised
+tone, putting up her long tortoiseshell glass.
+
+"Oh _dear_, no, Gertrude! Surely you know Bertha by sight! I never had
+the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Pickering before."
+
+"Charmed to meet you," said Mrs. Pickering again, giving a kind of
+curtsy and smiling at Lady Gertrude. "Ah, there's my little friend!
+Well, Cliff, didn't we have fun the other day? Eustace was sorry he
+couldn't come to-day. We had the greatest larks, Lady Kellynch! I play
+with the kids just like one of themselves. We've got a great big room
+fixed up on purpose for Cissie and Eustace to romp. We haven't been
+there very long yet, Lady Kellynch. You know that big corner house in
+Hamilton Place leading into Park Lane. My husband thinks there's nothing
+good enough for the children. If it comes to that, he thinks there's
+nothing good enough for me." She giggled. "He gave me this emerald
+brooch only this morning. 'Oh, Tom,' I said, 'what a silly you are. You
+don't want to make a fuss about birthdays now we're getting on.' But he
+is silly about me! It's a nice little thing, isn't it?" she said,
+showing it to Lady Gertrude, who put up her glass to examine it.
+
+"Lady Gertrude Münster--Mrs. Pickering," said Lady Kellynch. "Some tea?"
+
+"Thanks, no tea. It's a pretty little thing, isn't it, Lady Münster?"
+
+"Rather nice. Are they real?" asked Lady Gertrude.
+
+Mrs. Pickering laughed very loudly. "You're getting at me. I shouldn't
+be so pleased with it if it came out of a cracker! But what I always say
+about presents, Lady Kellynch, is, it isn't so much the kind thought,
+it's the value of the gift I look at. No, I meant----"
+
+"What you said, I suppose," said Lady Gertrude, who was rather enjoying
+herself, as she saw her hostess was irritated.
+
+"Whoever's that pretty picture over there?"
+
+Mrs. Pickering got up and went to look at the piano.
+
+Lady Kellynch still retained (with several other _passé_ fashions) the
+very South Kensington custom of covering up her large piano with a
+handsome piece of Japanese embroidery, which was caught up at intervals
+into bunchy bits of drapery, fastened by pots of flowers with sashes
+round their necks and with a very large number of dark photographs in
+frames, so very artistic in their heavy shading that one saw only a
+gleam of light occasionally on the tip of the nose or the back of the
+neck--all the rest in shadow--all with very large dashing signatures
+slanting across the corners, chiefly of former dim social celebrities or
+present well-known obscurities. The photograph she was looking at now
+was a pretty one of Bertha.
+
+"Ah, that is my daughter-in-law."
+
+Lady Kellynch pointed it out to Lady Gertrude.
+
+"This _is_ pretty--what you can see of it."
+
+"Here she is herself."
+
+Bertha came in.
+
+"Mrs. Pickering--Mrs. Percy Kellynch."
+
+The hostess gave Bertha an imploring look. She took in the situation at
+a glance and drew Mrs. Pickering a little aside, where Lady Gertrude
+could not listen to her piercing Cockney accent.
+
+Clifford joined the group.
+
+If Lady Kellynch had been, almost against her will, reminded by
+something in her visitor of a pantomime, Bertha saw far more. She was
+convinced at once that the rich eldest son of Pickering, the Jam King,
+had been dazzled and carried away, some fourteen years ago, and bestowed
+his enormous fortune and himself, probably against his family's wish, on
+a little provincial chorus girl. Her cheery determination to get on, and
+an evident sense of humour, made Bertha like her, in spite of her
+snobbishness and her manner. She was a change, at least, to meet here,
+and when Mrs. Pickering produced her card, which she did to everyone to
+whom she spoke, Bertha promised to call and asked her also. Of course
+one would have to be a shade careful whom one asked to meet her, but
+probably it would be a jolly house to go to. And nowadays! Still, Bertha
+was a little surprised that Clifford was so infatuated with the mother
+of his friend. She forgot that at twelve years old one is not
+fastidious; the taste is crude. If he admired Bertha's fair hair, he
+thought Mrs. Pickering's brilliant gold curls still prettier. Besides,
+Mrs. Pickering petted and made much of him, and was very kind.
+
+She stayed much too long for a first visit, and as she went of course
+produced another card, saying to the muffled lady:
+
+"Pleased to have met you, Lady Münster. I hope you'll call and see our
+new house. We're going to give a ball soon. We're entertaining this
+season."
+
+"She certainly is," murmured Lady Gertrude. Then, as she left: "My dear,
+where do you pick up your extraordinary friends?"
+
+This was a particularly nasty one for Lady Kellynch, who made such a
+point of her exclusiveness.
+
+"Clifford is responsible for this, I think," said Bertha. "The boys are
+at the same school, and they've been very kind to him. I think she's
+very amusing, and a good sort."
+
+"Oh, quite a character! She told me she met her husband at Blackpool. He
+fell in love with her when she was playing Prince Charming in No. 2 B
+Company on tour with the pantomime _Little Miss Muffet_."
+
+"Just what one would have thought!" said Lady Kellynch, rather
+tragically.
+
+"I've come to ask you if you'll go with Percy to the Queen's Hall
+to-morrow," Bertha said. "He wants you to come so much."
+
+The mother delightedly consented.
+
+"Curious fad that is the mania for serious music," said Lady Gertrude.
+"You don't share your husband's taste for it, it seems?"
+
+"Well, I do, really. But it's such a treat for him to take his mother
+out!" said Bertha tactfully.
+
+"I say, Bertha, may I come back with you? I'm going back to school next
+week."
+
+"Of course you shall, if your mother likes."
+
+His mother was glad to agree. She did not feel inclined to discuss Mrs.
+Pickering with the boy that evening.
+
+"Try and make him see what an awful woman she is," she murmured.
+
+"I will; but it isn't dangerous," laughed Bertha. "Madeline is spending
+the evening with me to-morrow."
+
+"Oh yes, that nice quiet girl. By the way, do you know, I heard she was
+engaged to young Charles Hillier. And then somewhere else I was told it
+was Mr. Rupert Denison."
+
+"It's neither," calmly replied Bertha, "But I believe each of them
+proposed to her."
+
+"Is that a fact? Dear me! Just fancy her refusing them both! What a
+grief for poor Mrs. Irwin!"
+
+Bertha laughed as she remembered that as a matter of fact Madeline had
+accepted both, within two days.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+NEWS FROM VENICE
+
+
+Madeline was sitting one afternoon with her mother in their little
+Chippendale flat, all inlaid mahogany and old-fashioned chintz, china in
+cabinets, and miniatures on crimson velvet; it was so perfectly in
+keeping that the very parlourmaid's cap looked Chippendale, and it
+somehow suggested Hugh Thomson's illustrations to Jane Austen's books.
+Mrs. Irwin and Madeline were not, however, in the least degree like Miss
+Austen's heroines and their mothers, except that Mrs. Irwin, though very
+thin and elegant, had this one resemblance to the immortal Mrs. Bennet
+in "Pride and Prejudice": "the serious object of her life was to get her
+daughter married; its solace, gossiping and news." Also she had much of
+the same querulousness, and complained every night of nerves, and each
+morning of insomnia.
+
+Madeline was reading John Addington Symonds' Renaissance and everything
+that she could get on the subject of Italian history and cinquecento
+art. These studies she pursued still as a sort of monument to Rupert, or
+as a link with him. And to-day, as she was waiting for Bertha to call
+and take her out, she received a letter from him, from Venice.
+
+It was one of his long, friendly, cultured letters; making no allusion
+to any thoughts of becoming more than friends to each other, and no
+reference to the interlude of his proposal, or the episode of her
+engagement to Charlie. This memory seemed to have faded away, and he
+wrote in his old instructive way a long letter in his pretty little
+handwriting, speaking of gondoliers, Savonarola, hotels, pictures,
+lagoons, fashions and the weather. This last, he declared to be so
+unbearable that he thought of coming back to London before very long. He
+asked for an answer to his letter, and wished to know what she was
+reading, what concerts she had been to, and whether she had seen the
+exhibition at the Goupil Gallery.
+
+But though it took her back to long before the period of his
+love-letter, and he appeared to wish the whole affair to be forgotten,
+it gave her considerable satisfaction. He wanted to hear of her, and,
+what was more, he was coming back. Of course Mrs. Irwin saw that the
+letter was from him, and she remarked that she had always said everyone
+had a right to their own letters, and that after twenty-one, nowadays,
+she supposed girls could do exactly what they liked, which she thought
+was only fair; that mothers, very rightly, hardly counted in the present
+day, were regarded as nobody, and were treated with no confidence of any
+kind, of which she thoroughly approved; that Madeline's new coat and
+skirt suited her very badly and did not fit; and that grey had never
+been her colour.
+
+Madeline's reply to this was to place the long letter into her mother's
+hand.
+
+Having read it, Mrs. Irwin said she did not wish to force anybody's
+confidence, and she was evidently disappointed at its contents. However,
+she advised her daughter to answer without loss of time.
+
+The conversation was interrupted by Bertha's arrival.
+
+"You know my brother-in-law, Clifford?" she said. "The funny boy has
+'littery' tastes and began writing an historical play! But he got tired
+of it and now he's taken to writing verses. I've brought you one of his
+poems; they're so funny I thought it would amuse you. Fancy if a brother
+of Percy's should grow up to be a 'littery gent'. I suspect it to be
+addressed to the mother of his beloved friend, Pickering. He is devoted
+to her."
+
+"Where are you going to-day?" inquired Mrs. Irwin.
+
+"I'm taking Madeline to see Miss Belvoir. She has rather amusing
+afternoons. Her brother, Fred Belvoir, whom she lives with, is a curious
+sort of celebrity. When he went down from Oxford they had a sort of
+funeral procession because he was so popular. He's known on every
+race-course; he's a great hunting man, an authority on musical comedy,
+and is literary too--he writes for _Town Topics_. Miss Belvoir is the
+most good-natured woman in the world, and so intensely hospitable that
+she asks everyone to lunch or dinner the first time she meets them, and
+sometimes without having been introduced, and she asks everyone to bring
+their friends. They have a charming flat on the Thames Embankment and a
+dear little country house called The Lurch, where her brother often
+leaves her. They're mad on private theatricals, too, and are always
+dressing up."
+
+"It sounds rather fun," said Madeline.
+
+"Not very exclusive," suggested her mother.
+
+"No, not a bit. But it's great fun," said Bertha, "and I've heard people
+say that you can be as exclusive as you like at Miss Belvoir's by
+bringing your own set and talking only to them. People who go to her
+large parties often don't know her by sight; she's so lost in the
+crowd, and she never remembers anybody, or knows them again. To be ever
+so little artistic is a sufficient passport to be asked to the
+Belvoirs'. In fact if a brother-in-law of a friend of yours once sent an
+article to a magazine which was not inserted, or if your second cousin
+once met Tree at a party, and was not introduced to him, that is quite
+sufficient to make you a welcome guest there. Now that my little
+brother-in-law has written a poem, I shall have a _raison d'être_ in
+being there. You'll see, Madeline, you'll enjoy yourself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+ANOTHER ANONYMOUS LETTER
+
+
+"Oh, Bertha, I've heard from Rupert again," said Madeline, as they drove
+along.
+
+"I saw you'd had a letter from that talented young cul-de-sac," replied
+Bertha.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Nothing. I didn't mean anything. I like to tease you, and you must
+confess that he's the sort of man--well, nothing ever seems to get much
+forrarder with him! What does he say?"
+
+"It's just the sort of letter he wrote long before he ever dreamt of
+proposing to me."
+
+"Well, I think that's rather a good sign. He's reassumed his early
+manner. I believe he's going to work his way up all over again--all
+through the beaten paths, and ignore the incident that hurt his vanity,
+and then propose again. We may have rather fun here to-day. Sometimes
+there are only a few fly-blown celebrities, and sometimes there are very
+new beginners without a future, debutantes who will never _débuter_,
+singers who can't sing, actors who never have any engagements, and
+editors who are just thinking of bringing out a paper. Miss Belvoir
+collects people who are unknown but prominent, noticeable and yet
+obscure. Here we are."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+While Bertha and Madeline were being entertained in Miss Belvoir's
+drawing-room something more serious was happening to Percy.
+
+The day after the Hilliers' party Nigel had a terrible quarrel with his
+wife, and he threatened that if she ever again lost her self-control and
+disgraced him or herself by anything in the way of a scene, that he
+would leave her and never come back. This really frightened her, for she
+knew she had behaved unpardonably. She would not have minded so very
+much if he had gone away for a little while, but how was she to prevent
+the Kellynches going to the same place--even travelling with him? She
+had been amazed to see Bertha. At the time she sent the letters there
+had certainly been a marked change, a new movement, as she thought. They
+had had an effect, without a doubt, though how or what she hardly knew,
+but she supposed she had roused Percy's suspicions and he had stopped
+the meetings. And then Mrs. Kellynch calmly came to the party without
+her husband, which seemed to prove she knew nothing of the letters, and
+disappeared at once with Nigel into the shaded conversation-room,
+snatching her host and openly flirting with him in the most marked way!
+It had been too much for her self-restraint. But now Mary saw she had
+gone too far. Her open fury had been less successful than her secret
+intriguing, so she apologised most humbly, entreated him to forgive her,
+and even swore never to interfere again. He was to be quite free. He
+might see Mrs. Kellynch whenever he liked. But all this was, of course,
+too late for Nigel, since Bertha herself had declined to see him again,
+and Mary resolved to start afresh. Probably the husband had lost his
+suspicions and they must be roused again. If only Bertha had told him
+all that had happened at the party, and if only Percy had frankly shown
+her the letters and concealed nothing from her, there would have been no
+more trouble. But each of them, from mistaken reasons, had concealed
+these facts from the other. So, within a week of the entertainment, when
+he had been so enchanted with her coming home early, Percy received
+another shock, another warning anonymous letter.
+
+It told him that his wife had made herself so conspicuous with Nigel
+Hillier that the hostess had requested her to leave, also that their
+meetings and their intrigue were the talk of London. He was again
+advised to put a stop to it, but was not this time given any day and
+hour or place to find them.
+
+This time Percy said nothing to his wife. He made up his mind to have it
+out, for several reasons, with Nigel. Though he was angry and jealous,
+he now did not believe for a moment that Bertha was in any way to blame,
+but simply that Nigel must be paying her marked attention, and whatever
+the cause of the talk he was determined to stop it.
+
+He thought for some time about where he could have an interview with
+Nigel. He could not ask him to his own house, nor could he go and see
+him at Grosvenor Street. His former idea of talking at the club he saw
+to be impossible.
+
+He sat down and wrote:
+
+    "DEAR HILLIER,--I want to have a talk with you. Will you come
+    and see me at my chambers at four o'clock the day after
+    to-morrow? No. 7 Essex Court, Temple. Yours sincerely,
+
+        "PERCIVAL KELLYNCH."
+
+Nigel was amazed to receive this, and rather alarmed too. It was about a
+week since he had had Bertha's little letter, but he had made no attempt
+to see her since.
+
+He answered immediately that he would call at the time appointed and
+passed a very restless day and night beforehand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+AN INTERVIEW
+
+
+Nigel, filled with curiosity, and rather anxious, arrived punctually to
+the moment. He was shown into Percy's chambers by a stout and
+prosperous-looking middle-aged clerk, with a gold watch-chain.
+
+He waited there for some minutes, walking slowly up and down the room
+and examining it. It was a very dull, serious room, almost depressing.
+On the large table lay bulbous important-looking briefs, tied up with
+red tape. Framed caricatures of judges and eminent barristers from
+_Vanity Fair_ hung round the walls. The furniture was scarce, large and
+heavy. On the mantelpiece was a framed photograph with a closed leather
+cover. It looked interesting and expensive, and Nigel with his quick
+movements had the curiosity to go across the room to open it. It
+contained two lovely photographs of Bertha: one in furs and a hat, the
+other in evening dress. It irritated Nigel. ... A sound of footsteps
+gave him only just time to close it with a spring, and sit down.
+
+Percy came in looking as Nigel had never seen him look before. There had
+been an unimportant case in court, but he had been unable to get away
+before. He was so orderly as a rule that he detested keeping anybody
+waiting. He looked flushed and hurried, and his black smooth hair was
+extraordinarily rough and wild. Of course, Nigel remembered, he had just
+taken off his wig. There was a red line on his forehead, the mark left
+by this ornament. The effect made him look like a different person. He
+threw off his coat and spoke seriously and rather formally.
+
+"Sorry, Hillier. Delayed in court. Hope I haven't kept you?"
+
+"It doesn't matter in the least," Nigel answered in his cheery way.
+
+Nigel was looking exceedingly at ease, and happy, though the manner was
+really assumed to-day. He was very smartly dressed, with light gloves
+and a buttonhole of violets, and looked a gay contrast to Percy, with
+his unusually rough hair and solemn expression.
+
+"I was very interested. I don't think I've ever seen a barrister's
+chambers before. Jolly rooms you've got here. What a charming place the
+Temple is. ... Well! I've been simply dying of curiosity," he went on,
+with a pleasant smile.
+
+"Sit down," said Percy. "Have a cigarette?"
+
+Nigel lighted up. Percy did not.
+
+"It's not very pleasant what I want to say to you. It's simply that I
+don't want you to come to our house any more."
+
+Nigel looked surprised and coloured slightly.
+
+"And may I ask your reason?"
+
+"I don't see why I should give it, but I will. I don't wish you to see
+my wife any more."
+
+"This is very extraordinary, Kellynch! Why?"
+
+"I've reason to believe that your old friendship has been the cause of
+some talk--some scandal. I don't like it. I won't have it, and that's
+sufficient. I insist on you avoiding her in future."
+
+Nigel stared blankly.
+
+"I can only agree of course. I'll do just as you tell me. But I think,
+as we've known each other so long, that it would be only fair for you to
+tell me what is your reason for thinking this."
+
+Nigel walked up and down the room, turned suddenly and said: "What has
+put this idea into your head?"
+
+Percy hesitated a moment.
+
+"I'll tell you if you like. But, mind, I want no explanations. I needn't
+say," he glanced at the closed photograph, "that I could have no doubt
+of any kind. ... But I have a right to choose my friends and my wife's
+also."
+
+"She doesn't object?"
+
+Percy frowned and looked him straight in the face.
+
+"I undertake to say she will not object. We'll make this conversation as
+short as we can. You've asked me my reason and I'll give it you. I've
+had a series of extraordinary anonymous letters concerning you."
+
+Nigel stared, horrified.
+
+"She knows nothing about it," continued Percy, "and I attach no
+importance to them, except, as I say, they show that your acquaintance
+must have been misconstrued, and I won't have a shadow ... on her."
+
+"This is rather hard on me, Kellynch. However, I have the satisfaction
+of knowing my conscience is absolutely clear, and of course, I'll do
+just as you wish. Have you any objection to showing me the letters?"
+
+After a moment's pause, Percy said:
+
+"No. I don't know that I have. I've got them here. I meant to shove them
+in the fire, but I'll let you read them first, if you like."
+
+He went to a drawer, unlocked it, gave Nigel the letters, and watched
+him while he read them.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The moment Nigel glanced at them he knew they were written by Mary. He
+remembered by the dates when she had had the typewriter; he remembered,
+even, seeing some of the white notepaper. He read them all. Then he
+looked up and said:
+
+"Kellynch, it's good of you to show these to me. I'm sorry to say I know
+who wrote them. The earlier ones telling of the appointments are all
+perfectly true, but entirely misrepresented. They can all be explained."
+
+"I understand that," said Percy. "Of course the suggestion and the
+impression the writer tries to give are absolutely false."
+
+"Quite so. May I burn the letters now?"
+
+There was a fire and Nigel threw them into it. He saw no point in
+keeping them to confront Mary with. She would confess anyhow.
+
+"May I ask one thing more?"
+
+"My wife knows nothing about them," repeated Percy.
+
+Nigel thought what a pity that was. If she had, she would not have come
+to the party; things might have been tided over. But now. ... He had no
+hope of the wish of his life, he was as furious as a spoilt child who
+is deprived of a favourite toy--or, rather, disappointed of all hopes of
+getting one. He became more and more angry with Percy and longed to
+annoy him. The fellow was too satisfied--too lucky--he had everything
+too much his own way!
+
+"May I ask one thing?" said Nigel, as the letters were burning and he
+gave them one last irritated touch with the poker, "may I ask, does this
+affair give you the impression that I--only I naturally--had
+any--er--motives in trying to see Mrs. Kellynch often? If I may put it
+plainly, did you think I cared for her in a way that I had no right to?"
+
+"To tell you the honest truth," said Percy, "as I choose to be frank
+with you, I won't say you had ... motives, but I have the impression
+that you--er--admire her too much."
+
+Nigel waited a moment.
+
+"And there you are perfectly right, Kellynch."
+
+Percy started up, looking a little pale.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nigel had got a little of his revenge.
+
+He had annoyed the comfortable Percy.
+
+"But let me say that all this time I have never, never shown it by word
+or look. Our talks were almost entirely about Madeline Irwin and my
+brother, or about Rupert Denison. Your wife is so exceedingly kind and
+good that she wished to see Miss Madeline as happy as herself."
+
+"Yes, yes, I know all that," said Percy impatiently.
+
+"I shall follow your wishes to the very letter," said Nigel. "You see
+how very open I've been. How will you explain to her that I drop your
+acquaintance?"
+
+"I think I shall tell her now," said Percy, "that I had received a
+letter and that I've seen you. But I shall tell her we parted the best
+of friends, and nothing must be done, above all things, to annoy or
+agitate her."
+
+He looked at the closed leather case again.
+
+"Just now I want to take special care of her. I daresay she won't notice
+not meeting you, as we're not going out in the evening the rest of the
+season nor entertaining."
+
+Nigel looked amazed. An idea occurred to him that caused him absurd
+mortification. It dawned upon his mind that perhaps Bertha was going to
+have her wish. If so, he would be forgotten more completely than ever.
+
+"Forgive me for asking, Kellynch. I think you've been very good to me,
+really. I trust your wife is not ill?"
+
+"Ill?--oh dear, no."
+
+Percy smiled a smile that to Nigel seemed maddeningly complacent. "She
+merely wants a little care for a time. We shall go to the country very
+early this year. As a matter of fact, it's something she's very pleased
+about." He stopped.
+
+Nigel gave a pale smile. Percy was too irritating!
+
+"Well, you were right not to worry her about the letters. I'm very sorry
+for the whole thing. I think it's been hard on me, Kellynch."
+
+He stood up.
+
+"Good-bye, Hillier!"
+
+Nigel held out his hand; Percy shook it coldly.
+
+As he went to the door, taking up his hat and stick, Nigel said:
+
+"I sincerely hope you won't miss me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+NIGEL AND MARY
+
+
+Nigel rushed back. On his way, he decided that he had got a real excuse
+for a holiday; he had every right to go away for a time from such a
+wife; and he found himself thinking chiefly about where he would go and
+how he would amuse himself. If the husband had only known it, Bertha had
+already, if not exactly forbidden him the house, discouraged his
+calling, almost as distinctly, though more kindly, than Percy did.
+Still, if Percy had not given him that piece of information, he would
+have remained in London, and left it to chance that they might meet
+again somehow. He was such an optimist, and was really so very much in
+love with her. Curious that this news of Bertha should annoy and should
+excite him so much! Why, it seemed to him to be a matter of more
+importance and far more interest than in his own wife's case. That he
+had taken quite as a matter of course, an ordinary everyday occurrence
+"which would give her something to do." He was really disappointed when
+he found that Mary did not absorb herself in her children, and found she
+was only anxious--foolishly anxious--that he should not think that they
+could take his place as companions.
+
+Nigel was affectionate by nature, and if Mary had insisted on that
+note--if she had made him proud of his children, encouraged his
+affection for them, if she had played the madonna--his affection for her
+would have been immensely increased. She would have had a niche in his
+heart--a respect and tenderness, even if she had never been able to make
+him entirely faithful, which, perhaps, only one woman could have done.
+But, instead of that, Mary had been jealous and silly and violently
+exacting. She wished him to be her slave and under her thumb, and yet
+she wanted him to be her lover. Every word she had ever spoken,
+everything she had ever done since their marriage had had the exact
+contrary effect of what she desired. She had sent him further and
+further away from her. That she knew he had married her for her money
+embittered her and yet made her tyrannical. She wanted to take advantage
+of that fact, in a way that no man could endure. Yet she was to be
+pitied. Anyone so exacting must be terribly unhappy.
+
+It was not in Nigel, either, to care long for anyone who cared for him
+so much. And even if Bertha, who was now his ideal and his dream, had
+been as devoted to him as Mary, and shown it in anything like the same
+sort of way, he would in time have become cool and ceased to appreciate
+her. He thought now that he would always adore her, and yet, when they
+had been actually engaged, it had been he who had allowed it to lapse.
+He might think that he cared for her far more now and understood her
+better, and now no worldly object would induce him to give up the
+possibility of their passing their lives together. And yet the fact
+remained. She had loved him as a girl--worshipped him. But he had broken
+it off. So now that he has lost all hope of his wish, he does not,
+strictly speaking, deserve any sympathy; yet all emotional suffering
+appeals to one's pity rather than to one's sense of justice. And Nigel
+was miserable.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The letter Bertha had sent him the other day, though it put an end to
+their meeting, had a sort of fragrance; a tender kindness about it. He
+could make himself believe that she also was a little sorry. Perhaps she
+did it more from motives of duty than from her own wish; something about
+it left a little glamour, and he had still hope that somehow or other
+circumstances might alter so much that even so they might be friends
+again. But now! it was very different. Percy's quiet satisfaction showed
+that they were on the most perfect terms, and he could imagine Bertha's
+delight--her high spirits--and her charming little ways of showing her
+pleasure. It forced itself on his mind against his will, that she was
+very much in love with Percy after all these ten years, difficult as it
+seemed to him to realise it.
+
+So they were hardly going out any more! So they were going to the
+country early to have a sort of second honeymoon! It seemed to him that
+after ten years of gay camaraderie they were now suddenly going to
+behave like lovers, like a newly married young couple.
+
+How sickening it was, and how absorbed she would be now! People always
+made much more of an event like that when it happened after some years.
+Personally he tried to think it made him like her less, at any rate it
+seemed to make her far more removed from him. But all the real
+estrangement had been caused undoubtedly by his wife.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the whole, to be just, that pompous ass, as he called him, Percy
+Kellynch, had really behaved very well. He had accused Nigel of nothing;
+he had suggested nothing about his wife, who was still, evidently, on a
+pedestal; he had really done the right thing and been considerate to her
+in the highest degree. Any man who cared for his wife would have
+naturally requested him, Nigel, to keep away. And it was really decent,
+frightfully decent of him, to let him see the letters, really kind and
+fair. Of course what put old Percy in a good temper, in spite of all,
+was this news, and, no doubt, Bertha was being angelic to him.
+
+Nigel made up his mind to try and throw it off. But he couldn't do it by
+staying with his wife.
+
+To look at her would be agonising now.
+
+Still he made up his mind he would be calm, he would not be unkind to
+her; he would be firm, and, as far as possible, have no sort of scene.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When he went in, she was sitting in the boudoir looking out of the
+window as usual. She saw him before he came in. It was not six o'clock
+yet and quite light.
+
+"Well, Nigel darling?" She ran up to him.
+
+He moved away.
+
+"Please don't, Mary. I've got something serious to speak to you about."
+
+She turned pale, guiltily.
+
+"What is it? What on earth is it?"
+
+"You shall hear. Shall we talk about it now, or wait till after dinner?
+I think I'd rather wait. I've got a bit of a headache."
+
+"After dinner, then," murmured Mary.
+
+This was very unlike her. Had she had nothing on her conscience, nothing
+she was afraid of, she would never have ceased questioning and worrying
+him to get it all out of him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He went up to his room, and asked her to leave him, and this she
+actually did. She wanted time to think!
+
+With the weak good nature that was in Nigel, curiously side by side with
+a certain cruel hardness, he now felt a little sorry for her. It must be
+awful to be waiting like this. And she really had been in the wrong. It
+was an appalling thing to do--mad, hysterical, dangerous. It might have
+caused far more trouble than it had! Suppose Percy had believed it all!
+
+Nigel thought of scandals, divorces, all sorts of things. Yes, after
+all, Kellynch had really been kind; and clever. He was not a bad sort.
+Then Nigel found that last little letter of Bertha's. How sweet it was!
+But he saw through it now, that she was deeply happy and didn't want to
+be bothered with him. She forgave the scene his wife had made at the
+party, as not one woman in a hundred would do--but she didn't want him.
+The moment she realised that he wanted to flirt with her, that there was
+even a chance of his loving her, she was simply bored. Yes, that was
+it--gay, amusing, witty, attractive Nigel bored her! Dull, serious,
+conventional Percy did not! She was in love with him.
+
+In books and plays it was always the other way: it was the husband that
+was the bore; but romances and comedies are often far away from life.
+Curious as it seemed, this was life, and Nigel realised it. He destroyed
+her letter and went down to dinner.
+
+They were quiet at dinner, talked a little only for the servants. Nigel
+asked about the little girl.
+
+"How's Marjorie getting on with her music lessons?"
+
+Mary answered in a low voice that the teacher thought she had talent.
+...
+
+They were left alone.
+
+"Well, what is it, Nigel?" She spoke in querulous, frightened voice.
+
+They were sitting in the boudoir again. Coffee had been left on the
+table.
+
+Nigel lighted a cigarette.
+
+He was still a little sorry for her. Then he said:
+
+"Look here, Mary, I'm sorry to say I've found out you've been doing a
+very terrible thing! I ask you not to deny it, because I know it. The
+only chance of our ever being in peace together again, or in peace at
+all, is for you to speak the truth."
+
+She did not answer.
+
+"I've forgiven heaps of things--frightful tempers, mad suspicions, that
+disgraceful scene you made at our party--but I always thought you were
+honourable and truthful. What you've done is very dishonourable. Don't
+make it worse by denying it." He paused. "You have written five
+anonymous letters, dictated in typewriting, about me and Mrs. Kellynch
+to her husband. I don't know what you thought, but you certainly tried
+to give the impression that our harmless conversations meant something
+more. That there was an intrigue going on. Did you really think this,
+may I ask?"
+
+"Yes, I did," she said, in a low voice, looking down.
+
+"Well, first allow me to assure you that you are entirely wrong. It was
+completely false. Can't you see now how terrible it was to suggest these
+absolute lies as facts to her husband? Did you write the letters?"
+
+"Yes, I did; I was in despair. I couldn't think of anything else to stop
+it."
+
+Nigel gave a sigh of relief.
+
+"Thank God you've admitted it, Mary. I'm glad of that. At least if we
+have the truth between us, we know where we are."
+
+"Did she--did she--tell you?"
+
+"She knows nothing whatever about it," said Nigel. "She has never been
+told, and never will be. You need worry no more about the letters. Her
+husband gave them to me this afternoon, and I destroyed them before him.
+And he doesn't know who wrote them."
+
+Nigel forgot that he had told Percy or did not choose to say.
+
+"They're completely wiped out, and will be forgotten by the person to
+whom you sent them. The whole affair is cleared up and finished and
+regarded as an unfortunate act of folly."
+
+"Oh, Nigel!" Mary burst into tears. "You're very good."
+
+"Now listen, Mary ... I can't endure to stay with you any more at
+present."
+
+"What!" she screamed.
+
+"If I continue this existence with you I shall grow to hate it. I wish
+to go away for a time."
+
+"You want to leave me!"
+
+"Unless I go now for a time to try and get over this act of yours, I
+tell you frankly that I shall leave you altogether."
+
+He spoke sternly.
+
+"If you will have the decency not to oppose my wishes, I will go away
+for six or seven weeks, and when I come back we'll try and take up our
+life again a little differently. You must be less jealous and exacting
+and learn to control yourself. I will then try to forget and we'll try
+to get on better together. But I must go. My nerves won't stand it any
+longer."
+
+She sobbed, leaning her head on the back of an arm-chair.
+
+"If you agree to this without the slightest objection," said Nigel, "I
+will come and join you and the children somewhere in the first week in
+August. Till then I'm going abroad, but I don't exactly know where. You
+shall have my address, and, of course, I shall write. I may possibly go
+to Venice. I have a friend there."
+
+She still said nothing, but cried bitterly. She was in despair at the
+idea of his leaving her, but secretly felt she might have been let off
+less lightly.
+
+One thing Nigel resolved. He would not let her know he had been
+forbidden the house. She would be too pleased at having succeeded. But
+he said:
+
+"One thing you may as well know, I shall see nothing more of the
+Kellynches, because they are going into the country in a few days. They
+have had no quarrel, they are perfectly devoted to each other, and she
+has not the faintest idea of it. So you see you haven't done the harm,
+or caused the pain you tried to, except to me. I was ashamed when I
+saw----"
+
+"Oh, Nigel, forgive me! I am sorry! Don't go away!"
+
+"Unless I go away now, I shall go altogether. Don't cry. Try to cheer
+up!"
+
+With these words he left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+MISS BELVOIR
+
+
+We left Bertha and Madeline in the lift going up to call on Miss
+Belvoir. This lady was sitting by the fire, holding a screen. She came
+forward and greeted them with great cordiality. She was a small, dark,
+amiable-looking woman about thirty. Her hair and eyes were of a
+blackness one rarely sees, her complexion was clear and bright, her
+figure extremely small and trim. Without being exactly pretty, she was
+very agreeable to the eye, and also had the attraction of looking
+remarkably different from other people. Indeed her costume was so
+uncommon as to be on the verge of eccentricity. Her face had a slightly
+Japanese look, and she increased this effect by wearing a gown of which
+a part was decidedly Japanese. In fact it was a kimono covered with
+embroidery in designs consisting of a flight of storks, some
+chrysanthemums, and a few butterflies, in the richest shades of blue. In
+the left-hand corner were two little yellow men fighting with a sword
+in each hand; otherwise it was all blue. It was almost impossible to
+keep one's eyes from this yellow duel; the little embroidered figures
+looked so fierce and emotional and appeared to be enjoying themselves so
+much.
+
+The room in which Miss Belvoir received her friends was very large, long
+and low, and had a delightful view of the river from the Embankment. It
+was a greyish afternoon, vague and misty, and one saw from the windows
+views that looked exactly like pictures by Whistler. The room was
+furnished in a Post-Impressionist style, chiefly in red, black and
+brown; the colours were all plain--that is to say, there were no designs
+except on the ceiling, which was cosily covered with large, brilliantly
+tinted, life-sized parrots.
+
+Miss Belvoir's brother, Fred, often declared that when he came home
+late, which he generally did--between six and nine in the morning were
+his usual hours--he always had to stop himself from getting a gun, and
+he was afraid that some day he might lose his self-control and be
+tempted to shoot the parrots. He was an excellent shot.
+
+The room was full of low bookcases crammed with books, and large fat
+cushions on the floor. They looked extremely comfortable, but as a
+matter of fact nobody ever liked sitting on them. When English people
+once overcame their natural shyness so far as to sit down on them, they
+were afraid they would never be able to get up again.
+
+Three or four people were dotted about the room, but no one had ventured
+on the cushions. There was one young lady whose hair was done in the
+early Victorian style, parted in the middle, with bunches of curls each
+side. As far as her throat she appeared to be strictly a Victorian--very
+English, about 1850--but from that point she suddenly became Oriental,
+and for the rest was dressed principally in what looked like beaded
+curtains.
+
+Leaning on the mantelpiece and smoking a cigarette with great ease of
+manner was a striking and agreeable-looking young man, about eight and
+twenty, whom Miss Belvoir introduced as Mr. Bevan Fairfield. He was fair
+and good-looking, very dandified in dress, and with a rather humorously
+turned-up nose and an excessively fluent way of speaking.
+
+"I was just scolding Miss Belvoir," he said, "when you came in. She's
+been playing me the trick she's always playing. She gets me here under
+the pretext that some celebrity's coming and then they don't turn up.
+Signor Semolini, the Futurist, I was asked to meet. And then she gets a
+telegram--or says she does--that he can't come. Very odd, very curious,
+they never can come--at any rate when I'm here. Some people would rather
+say, 'Fancy, I was asked to Miss Belvoir's the other day to meet
+Semolini, only he didn't turn up,' than not say anything at all. Some
+people think it's a distinction not to have met Semolini at Miss
+Belvoir's."
+
+"It's quite a satisfactory distinction," remarked Bertha. "Semolini has
+been to see us once, but he really isn't very interesting."
+
+"Ah, but still you're able to say that. I sha'n't be able to say, 'I met
+Semolini the other day, and, do you know, he's such a disappointment.'"
+
+"Well, I couldn't help it, Bevan," murmured Miss Belvoir, smiling.
+
+"No, I know you couldn't help it. Of course you couldn't help it. That's
+just it--you never expected the man. I went to lunch with another liar
+last week--I beg your pardon, Miss Belvoir--who asked me to meet Dusé.
+She was so sorry she couldn't come at the last minute. She sent a
+telegram. Well, all I ask is, let me see the telegram."
+
+"But you couldn't; he 'phoned," objected Miss Belvoir.
+
+"So you _say_," returned the young man, as he passed a cup of tea to
+Bertha.
+
+"Will you have China tea and lemon and be smart, or India tea and milk
+and sugar and enjoy it? I don't mind owning that I like stewed tea--I
+like a nice comfortable washer-woman's cup of tea myself. Well, I
+suppose we're all going to the Indian ball at the Albert Hall. What are
+you all going as? I suppose Miss Belvoir's going as a nautch-girl, or a
+naughty girl or something."
+
+"I'm going as a Persian dancer," said Miss Belvoir.
+
+"I'm not going as anything," said Bertha. "I hate fancy balls. One takes
+such a lot of trouble and then people look only at their own dresses. If
+you want to dress up for yourself, you'd enjoy it just as much if you
+dressed up alone, I think."
+
+"Well, of course it's not so much fun for women," said Mr. Fairfield.
+"You are always more or less in fancy dress; it's no change for you. But
+for us it is fun. The last one I went to I had a great success as a
+forget-me-not. Miss Belvoir and I met an elephant, an enormous creature,
+galumphing along, knocking everybody down, and wasn't it clever of me? I
+recognised it! 'Good heavens!' I exclaimed, 'this must be the
+Mitchells!' And so it turned out to be. Mr. Mitchell was one leg, Mrs.
+Mitchell the other, two others were their great friends and their
+little nephew was the trunk. Frightfully uncomfortable, but they did
+attract a great deal of attention. They nearly died of the stuffiness,
+but they took a prize. My friend Linsey usually takes a prize, though he
+always contrives some agonising torture for himself. The last time he
+was a letter-box, and he was simply dying of thirst and unable to move.
+I saved his life by pouring some champagne down the slit for the
+letters, on the chance. Another friend of mine who was dressed in a real
+suit of armour had to be lifted into the taxi, and when he arrived home
+he couldn't get out. When he at last persuaded the cabman to carry him
+to his door--it was six o'clock in the morning--the man said, 'Oh, never
+mind, sir, we've had gentlemen worse than this!' And the poor fellow
+hadn't had a single drop or crumb the whole evening, because his visor
+was down and he couldn't move his arm to lift it up. If you went as
+anything, Mrs. Kellynch, you ought to be a China Shepherdess. I never
+saw anyone so exactly like one."
+
+"And what ought I to go as?" asked Madeline.
+
+"You would look your best as a Florentine page," replied Mr. Fairfield.
+"Or both of you would look very nice as late Italians."
+
+"I'm afraid we shall be late Englishwomen unless we go now," said
+Bertha. "I can only stay a very few minutes to-day, Miss Belvoir."
+
+They persuaded her to remain a little longer, and Mr. Fairfield
+continued to chatter on during the remainder of their visit. He did not
+succeed in persuading them to join in making up the party for the Indian
+ball.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+MARY'S PLAN
+
+
+Mary was so terrified that Nigel might keep his threat altogether and
+really leave her permanently that she made less opposition than he
+expected. She felt instinctively that it was her only chance of getting
+him back. She could see when he really meant a thing, and this time it
+was evident he intended to follow out his scheme, and she could not help
+reflecting that it might have been very much worse. How much more angry
+many husbands might have been! On the whole she had been let off fairly
+lightly. There was this much of largeness in Nigel's nature that he
+could not labour a point, or nag, or scold, or bully. He was really
+shocked and disgusted, besides being very angry at what she had done,
+and he did not at all like to dwell on it. He was even grateful that she
+spared him discussions of the subject, and sincerely thankful that she
+had admitted it. All men with any generosity in their temperament are
+disarmed by frankness, and most irritated by untruth. He wondered at her
+daring, and when she humbly owned she saw how dreadful it was--that she
+saw it in the right light and would never be tempted to do anything of
+the sort again--he was glad to forgive her. But he wanted to go away and
+forget it, and he certainly made up his mind to make the whole affair an
+excuse for having more freedom. He had never been away without her for
+more than a day, and he looked forward to it with great pleasure. He
+determined to let his journey help to cure him of his passion for
+Bertha, though it seemed at present an almost impossible task.
+
+He was resolved to strike when the iron was hot, and to get away while
+she was in this docile mood. She was gentle and quiet and seemed very
+unhappy, but made no objections to his plans; she would not, perhaps,
+have minded his leaving her for a day or two, since she felt
+uncomfortable and in the wrong, but she dreaded his being away for
+weeks. He said he would join Rupert at Venice; and this she rather
+preferred, as Rupert was known to be a quiet, steady, studious young
+man.
+
+But when the last moment came and the packed trunks were put on the cab,
+he had said good-bye to her and the children and that last terrible bang
+of the hall door resounded in her heart, she could not look out of the
+window in her usual place. She had felt the agony known to all loving
+hearts, the conviction that a traveller is already at a distance before
+he goes. He is no longer with her when his thoughts are with stations
+and tickets--indeed the real parting is long before he starts. Then the
+unconscious sparkle of pleasure in his eyes as he imagines himself away!
+He had gone already before he went; she did not want to see the last of
+him. She went up to her room and locked the door, and threw herself on
+the sofa in a terrible fit of despair and jealousy. Jealousy still, that
+was her great fear of his going away. He would forget her and be
+unfaithful, she thought. ...
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+She suffered terribly that evening, and the next day resolved to take a
+somewhat singular step. If she had been doing Bertha an injustice, as it
+seemed, if Bertha was not seeing him at all, why should she not go and
+see her? She felt instinctively that besides getting the truth out of
+her, and perhaps apologising for what had happened at the party, Bertha
+might give her some advice. Everyone said she was so kind and clever.
+She decided not to write, but she rang up on the telephone and asked if
+Bertha would receive her at three o'clock. She felt a strange
+curiosity, a longing to see her. She received the answer, Mrs. Kellynch
+would be delighted to see her at any time in the afternoon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+PRIVATE FIREWORKS AT THE PICKERINGS'
+
+
+"I say, Clifford, when is your birthday?" This momentous question was
+asked of Clifford with the liveliest interest by Cissy Pickering, a
+remarkably pretty little girl of about his own age.
+
+They were in the gigantic and gorgeous apartment set apart as a playroom
+for the young Pickerings in Hamilton Place, Park Lane, and arranged
+partly as a gymnasium--it had all the necessities--partly as a
+schoolroom. It contained a magnificent dolls' house fitted up with Louis
+Quinze furniture and illuminated with real electric light; a miniature
+motor car in which two small people could drive themselves with
+authentic petrol round and round the polished floor; a mechanical
+rocking-horse; a miniature billiard-table and croquet set; a gramophone;
+cricket on the hearth, roller-skates; a pianola, and countless other
+luxuries.
+
+Decorated by illustrations of fairy tales on the walls, it was
+altogether a delightful room; made for all a child could want.
+
+It is all very well to say that children are happier with mud pies and
+rag dolls than with these elaborate delights. There may be something in
+this theory, but when their amusements are carried to such a point of
+luxurious and imaginative perfection it certainly gives them great and
+even unlimited enjoyment at the time. Whether such indulgence and
+realisation of youthful dreams have a good effect on the character in
+later life is a different question. At any rate, to go to tea with the
+Pickerings was the dream of all their young friends and gave them much
+to think of and long for, while it gave to the young host and hostess
+immense gratification and material pride.
+
+"My birthday? Oh, I don't know--oh, it's on the twenty-seventh May,"
+said Clifford, who was far more shy of the young lady than of her
+mother.
+
+"Fancy! Just fancy! and mine's on the twenty-eighth June! _Isn't_ it
+funny!"
+
+Cissy was surprised at almost everything. It added to her popularity.
+
+"Not particularly."
+
+"Oh, Clifford!"
+
+"You must be born some time or other, I mean," he said, wriggling his
+head and twisting his feet, as he did when he felt embarrassed. Miss
+Pickering made him feel embarrassed because she asked so many direct
+personal questions, seemed so interested and surprised at everything,
+and volunteered so much private--but, it seemed to him,
+unimportant--information.
+
+"My name is Cecilia Muriel Margaret Pickering. My birthday's on the
+twenty-eighth June, and Eustace's birthday is on the fifteenth February.
+Isn't it funny?"
+
+"No, not at all," said Clifford.
+
+"His name is Eustace Henry John Pickering, after father. At least John's
+after father and Henry's after grandpapa--I mean, mummy's father, you
+know. Eustace is just a fancy name--a name mummy thought of. Do you like
+it?"
+
+"Not much."
+
+"Oh, Clifford! Why not?"
+
+"Well, it's rather a queer name."
+
+"Do you call him Eustace?"
+
+"I call him Pickering, of course," said Clifford. "At school we don't
+know each other's Christian names."
+
+"Oh! ... Did you know mine before you came here, Clifford?"
+
+"No. I only knew he had a kiddy sister, but he didn't tell me your
+name."
+
+She looked rather crushed. Cissy was a lovely child with golden hair,
+parted on one side, and a dainty white and pink dress like a doll. Cissy
+was in love with Clifford, but Clifford was in love with her mother.
+This simple nursery tragedy may sound strange, but as a matter of fact
+it is a kind of thing that happens every day. Similar complications are
+to be found in almost every schoolroom.
+
+"I hope you don't mind my saying that," said Clifford, who began to be
+sorry for her. "About your being a kid. It doesn't matter a bit--for a
+girl."
+
+"Oh, Clifford! No, I don't mind." She smiled at him, consoled. "Eustace
+will soon be home. He's gone to get something."
+
+"Oh, good."
+
+"Do you mind his not being here yet?"
+
+"No, not a bit."
+
+"You told me you had something to show me," said the little girl.
+"You've been writing poetry. I _should_ so like to see it."
+
+He blushed and said: "I've brought it. But I don't think it's any good.
+I don't think I'll show it to you."
+
+"Oh, please, please, _please_, do!"
+
+"You'll go telling everyone. Girls always do."
+
+"I promise, I _swear_ I won't! Not a soul. Not even mummy. I never tell
+Eustace's secrets."
+
+"I should think not! Now mind you don't, then. Will you, Cissy?"
+
+"Oh, do go on, dear Clifford; because when Eustace is here we shall have
+to play games--'Happy Families' or something--and I sha'n't have another
+chance. I believe he's got some joke on. I hear you've written a play.
+Have you?"
+
+"Well, I began an historical play," said Clifford, who was beginning to
+think a little sister with proper respect for one might be rather a
+luxury, "but I chucked it. I found it was rather slow. So then I tried
+to write a poem. But I'm not going to grow up and be one of those rotten
+poets with long hair, that you read of. Don't think that."
+
+"Aren't you? Oh, that's right. What are you going to be, Clifford?"
+
+"Oh! I think I shall be an inventor or an explorer, and go out after the
+North or South Pole, or shoot lions."
+
+"Oh! How splendid! Won't you take me? I'd _love_ to come!"
+
+He smiled. "It wouldn't do for girls."
+
+"But I sha'n't be a girl then. I'll be grown-up. _Do_ let me come!"
+
+"We'll see. Don't bother."
+
+"Well! Show me the poem," she said, for she already had the instinct to
+see that it pleased him and interested him much more to show her what he
+was doing at present than to make promises and plans about her future.
+
+They went and sat on the delightful wide-cushioned window-seat. Clifford
+pulled out of his pocket a crumpled paper, covered with pencil marks. He
+curled himself up, and Cissy curled herself up beside him and looked
+over his shoulder.
+
+He began: "I'm afraid this one's no use--no earthly---- I say, Cissy,
+take your hair out of my eyes."
+
+She shook it back and sat a little farther off, with her eyes and mouth
+open as he read in a rather gruff voice:
+
+"Sonnet."
+
+"What's a sonnet, Clifford?"
+
+He was rather baffled. "This is."
+
+He went on:
+
+    "'_The day when first I saw
+         Her standing by the door,
+       I was taken by surprise
+       By her pretty blue eyes,
+         And then I thought her hair
+         So very fair
+       That I felt inclined to sing
+         About Mrs. Pickering._'"
+
+"Lovely! How beautiful!" exclaimed Cissy, like a true woman. "But Mrs.
+Pickering! Fancy! Does it mean mummy?"
+
+"Why, yes. As a matter of fact it certainly _does_."
+
+"Oh, Clifford! _How_ clever! How splendid! But mustn't she know it?"
+
+"Oh no. I'd rather not. At any rate, not now."
+
+"I wish it was to me!" exclaimed the child. "Then you needn't be so shy
+about it. Why don't you change it to me? Look here--like this. Say:
+
+    "'_I felt inclined to sing
+       About Cissy Pickering._'
+
+Cissy instead of _Mrs._!"
+
+"Oh no, my dear. That wouldn't do at all. It isn't done. You can't alter
+a sonnet to another person. If it came to that I'd sooner write one to
+you as well, some time or another, when you're older."
+
+"Oh, _do_, _dear_ Cliff! I _should_ love it."
+
+"All right. Perhaps I will some day. But, you see, just now I want to do
+the one about _her_."
+
+"It's very nice and polite of you," she said in a doubting voice. "But
+you said you'd done some more."
+
+"Rather. So I have. You mustn't think it's cheek, you know, if I call
+your mother by her Christian name in the poetry. It's only for the
+rhyme."
+
+Blushing and apologetically he read aloud in his gruff, shy voice:
+
+    "'_Geraldine, Geraldine,
+       She has the nicest face I have ever seen,
+           She did not say
+           Until the other day
+       That I might call her Geraldine,
+       And I think she is like a Queen._'
+
+"As a matter of fact she never said it at all," said the boy, folding it
+up. "That's only because it's poetry. And I only used her name for the
+rhyme."
+
+"Yes, I see. You're very clever!"
+
+"Don't you see any faults in it? I wish you'd tell me straight out
+exactly what you think, if you see anything wrong," said Clifford, like
+all young writers who think they are pining for criticism but are really
+yearning for praise. "I would like," he said, "for you to find any fault
+you possibly could! Say exactly what you really mean."
+
+He really thought he meant it.
+
+"Well, I don't see _one_ fault! I think it's perfect," replied Cissy,
+like all intelligent women in love with the writer. Her instinct warned
+her against finding any fault. Had she found any it would have been the
+only thing Clifford would have thought she happened to be wrong about.
+As it was, his opinion of her judgment and general mental capacity went
+up enormously, and he decided that she was a very clever kid. A decent
+little girl too, and not at all bad looking.
+
+"But aren't they a little short, Cissy?" he asked.
+
+"Perhaps they are. But you can easily make them longer, can't you?"
+
+"Oh yes, rather, of course I can."
+
+"Don't you want mummy to see them?"
+
+"Oh no, I don't think I do; wouldn't she laugh at me?"
+
+"Oh no, I'm sure she wouldn't, Clifford. She's coming to have tea with
+us to-night."
+
+"Well, mind you don't tell," he said threateningly.
+
+"Of course, I won't. You can trust me. I say, Clifford."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"What do you think I used to want to do?"
+
+"Haven't the slightest idea."
+
+She hesitated a moment. "Shall I tell you?"
+
+"If you like."
+
+"Well, I used to want to marry Henry Ainley!"
+
+"Did you, though," said Clifford, not very interested.
+
+"Yes. But I don't now."
+
+"Don't you, though?"
+
+"No, not the least bit."
+
+"Did he want to marry you?" asked Clifford. This idea occurred to him as
+being conversational, but he was still not interested.
+
+"Oh, good gracious, no!" she exclaimed. "Of course not! rather not! Why,
+he doesn't know me. And if he did he would think I was a little girl."
+
+"Well, so you are," said Clifford.
+
+"I know. Shall I tell you why I don't want to marry Henry Ainley any
+more?"
+
+"You can if you want to." These matrimonial schemes seemed to bore him,
+but he thought he ought to endure them as a matter of fair play, as she
+had listened to his poetry.
+
+"Well, I don't care so much about marrying him now, because I should
+like to marry you!"
+
+"Me! Oh, good Lord, I don't want to be engaged, thanks."
+
+"Oh, Clifford, do!"
+
+"None of the chaps at school are engaged. It isn't done. Being engaged
+is rot. Pickering isn't engaged."
+
+"Yes; but I don't see why we shouldn't," she said, pouting.
+
+"Well, I do, and I sha'n't be."
+
+"But mightn't you later on, when we're older?" she implored.
+
+"Why, no, I shouldn't think so. Why, your mother would be very angry.
+You're only twelve. You're not out. You can't be engaged before you're
+out. Your mother would think it awful cheek of me."
+
+"Well, I won't say anything more about it now," she said. "But,
+Clifford, will you, _perhaps_, _when_ I am out?"
+
+"Oh, good Lord! What utter bosh. How do I know what I'll do when you're
+out?"
+
+She began to look tearful.
+
+"Oh, well, all right. I'll see. Perhaps I may. Mind, I don't promise."
+
+He was thinking that if he refused her irrevocably and unconditionally
+he might not be asked to the house again. And he liked going on account
+of Pickering, Mrs. Pickering, and the house.
+
+"Look here," he said after a moment's pause. "Let's forget all about
+this. I don't think your mother would like it."
+
+"You think so much of my mother," she answered.
+
+"Well, I should think so, don't you?"
+
+"Oh yes, Clifford, I love her, of course."
+
+"Well, then, don't you want me to like her?"
+
+"Oh yes; but not much more than me."
+
+"Oh, well, I can't help that," he said very decidedly.
+
+She looked subdued.
+
+"Then you do like me a little bit too, Clifford?"
+
+"Yes, of course. I say, don't worry."
+
+"All right, I beg your pardon, Clifford. ... Oh, there's Eustace!"
+
+His step was heard. When his friends were there his sister called him
+Pickering, not to be out of it.
+
+"Won't you kiss me to show you're not cross with me, Clifford?"
+
+"Yes, if you like, my dear. But we're not engaged, you know."
+
+"Right-o," she answered.
+
+He kissed her hurriedly and Eustace came in. Eustace was a big dark thin
+boy of fourteen, not good-looking or like his sister in any way, but
+with a very pleasant humorous expression. He was remarkably clever at
+school, and his reports were, with regard to work, quite unusually high.
+Conduct was not so satisfactory, though he was popular both with boys
+and masters. His two hobbies were chemistry and practical jokes.
+Unfortunately the clear distinction between the two was not always
+sufficiently marked; the one merged too frequently into the other. Hence
+occasional trouble.
+
+Eustace had his arms full of parcels, which looked rather exciting. He
+informed his delighted sister and friend that they were going to have
+private fireworks on the balcony.
+
+"Gracious, how ripping!" cried Clifford. "But it isn't the fifth of
+November."
+
+"Who on earth ever said it was?"
+
+"Is it anybody's birthday?" asked Cissy.
+
+"I daresay," said Pickering. "Sure to be."
+
+"But you don't know that it's anybody's birthday for a fact, do you?"
+
+"Yes, I do. It's a dead cert that it's somebody's. Somebody's born every
+day. It's probably several people's birthday."
+
+"But you don't know whose?"
+
+"No. I don't know whose and I don't want to; what does it matter? Who
+cares?"
+
+They both laughed heartily. It was so like Pickering! That was Pickering
+all over to give an exhibition of fireworks in honour of the birthday of
+somebody he didn't know anything about, or in honour of its not being
+the fifth November.
+
+"But will mummy mind? Won't she be afraid?"
+
+"She won't mind, because she won't know. And she won't be afraid because
+she and father are going out to dinner and they won't hear anything
+about it until all the danger's over. I've got rockets and Bengal
+lights and all sorts of things here."
+
+"But suppose they catch fire to the curtains on the balcony and we have
+a fire-escape here," suggested Cissy.
+
+"Well, and wouldn't that be ripping?"
+
+They admitted that it would.
+
+"Have you ever been down a fire-escape, Clifford?" asked Pickering.
+
+"Me? Down a fire-escape? Wait a minute, let me think. No, no. Now I come
+to think of it, upon my word, I don't think I ever have. Not down a
+_fire-escape_."
+
+"Ah, I thought not," said Pickering knowingly, as if he had spent his
+life doing nothing else. "No, you wouldn't have."
+
+"Well, have you?"
+
+"Me?" said Pickering. "Well, I don't know that I have, _exactly_. But I
+know all about it. Besides I once drove to a fire with one of the
+firemen. It was jolly."
+
+"But you're not going to give a fire-escape performance to-night, are
+you? I thought you were only going to have fireworks."
+
+"Yes, of course, that's all, and there's no danger really. How surprised
+the people in the street will be when they see those ripping rockets go
+whizzing up! I daresay we shall have a crowd round us."
+
+"But I say, Eustace. Won't mummy say it's _vulgar_?"
+
+"What's vulgar?"
+
+"Why, to have fireworks. She says we oughtn't to attract too much
+attention and do anything ostentatious. She often says so."
+
+"Oh, my dear, that's all right. These are _private_ fireworks! No one
+will know about it."
+
+"But you'll have to tell Wenham," said Cissy.
+
+Wenham was a confidential butler who helped Pickering out of many
+scrapes.
+
+"Of course I shall tell Wenham; at least, I shall as soon as they have
+started. Now shut up about it. Here's mummy."
+
+Pretty Mrs. Pickering joined them at tea, played games with them--they
+did some delightful charades--and amused them and herself until it was
+time for her to go and dress for dinner, leaving Clifford more enchanted
+with her than ever.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+About a quarter to eight the children had the house more or less to
+themselves. Cissy's governess had a holiday and the aged nurse (who had
+no sort of control over Pickering) was the only person there who had
+even a shadow of authority. She was to see that Cissy didn't play wild
+games, and went to bed at half-past eight, but as a matter of fact the
+aged nurse did neither. Cissy stayed with the boys as long as they
+would allow her. At last the joyous moment arrived, they went on the
+balcony and Pickering started his first rocket. Cissy, a little
+frightened, clung to Clifford.
+
+"Suppose we have a crowd round the house," she murmured.
+
+"You see how easy it is," Pickering said. "Anyone with a little sense
+can do it. Now! Now, Cissy! get out of the way!"
+
+They waited and waited. But, alas! nothing happened. He tried again and
+yet again, but it turned out a failure, the sort of tragedy that is more
+disappointing than any danger or even any accident. ... It fell
+completely flat.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There must have been something the matter with the infernal fireworks.
+It couldn't have been Pickering not knowing how to do them.
+
+That was impossible, simply because Pickering always knew how to do
+everything.
+
+The wretched man who sold them to him must have cheated.
+
+It was a terrible _fiasco_. Not a single one of the rotten things went
+off. The most awful thing happened that could happen in life. After
+great fear, hope, suspense, excitement and joy, _the squibs were damp_!
+
+Nothing went off. Nothing happened. As to the Bengal fire, nothing was
+ever seen of it but some damp paper and a very horrible scent.
+
+Certainly there was no vulgarity about it, no ostentation, except the
+perfume. The fireworks were as private as they could possibly be!
+
+"At any rate," said Cissy, trying to console her guest, "perhaps it's
+better than if the house had caught fire and we had all been burnt up!"
+
+They weren't so very sure. It wouldn't have been so flat.
+
+Then Pickering made an attempt to imply that the whole thing was simply
+a practical joke of his.
+
+"Well, if it is," said Clifford to himself, "by Jove, if it is--it's the
+greatest success I've ever seen in my life!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+NIGEL ABROAD
+
+
+Nigel "ran across" Rupert in Paris--Englishmen who are acquainted with
+each other always do meet in Paris--and they agreed to dine together.
+Each was pleased to see the other, not so much for each other's own
+sake, but for the pleasure of associations. The sight of Rupert reminded
+Nigel of one of the pleasantest evenings in his life--that evening they
+had spent at the Russian Ballet. Bertha had sat next to him. Bertha had
+been delightful. She had looked lovely and laughed at his jokes, and had
+been all brightness and amiability--it had been before the first shadow,
+the first thought of _arrière pensée_ had risen in her mind to cloud her
+light heart. And he at that time, with what he saw now to be his dense
+stupidity, had believed that she was beginning to like him, that she was
+even on the way to get to care for him in time if he managed with great
+tact and did not annoy Percy nor seem wanting in deference for him, and
+above all if he did not give it away about Mary's jealousy. He always
+knew that if Bertha once learnt that, it would be fatal to his hopes.
+She was never to know it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And now everything had come out, everything had gone wrong in the most
+horrible, hideous way. It had all gone off like young Pickering's
+fireworks. When he remembered that dreadful scene at the party it made
+him shudder. How hopelessly stupid he had been to persuade her to come!
+How could he have been so idiotic? Looking at Rupert reminded him of the
+delightful little meetings and talks he had had with Bertha about him
+and Madeline. How charmingly grateful and delighted she had been at his
+offering to help her and smooth away the difficulties by diplomacy. And
+this was how he had done it! Madeline was now engaged to nobody.
+
+Bertha knew all about the jealousy and had been exposed to insults. And
+Percy knew even more about it than she did. Talk of diplomacy! Nigel
+must have been indeed a poor diplomatist, since, without having ever
+done the slightest harm or indeed really said a word of love to Bertha,
+he had yet brought her husband down upon him, forbidding him the house
+and sending him to the devil. That was diplomacy, wasn't it? and as to
+success, she regarded him with indifference bordering on aversion and
+was clearly madly in love with that dull uninteresting Percy. All (Nigel
+admitted), all his own stupidity. Whether or not wickedness is punished
+in another world, there can be no doubt that stupidity and folly is most
+decidedly punished in this.
+
+But then, could he help it that Mary went behind his back and wrote the
+most dreadful letters, that she had this terrible mania for writing
+letters? But if he had been so very clever and diplomatic he would
+somehow or another have prevented it. Oh yes, there was no doubt he was
+a fool, and he had without doubt been made supremely ridiculous. He was
+well aware that he was ridiculous.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rupert Denison liked Nigel, but he had no idea how intimate he was with
+Nigel. In other words he hadn't the faintest idea how well Nigel knew
+him. And this is a case which happens every day owing to the present
+custom of confidential gossip; and is too frequently rather unfairly
+arranged through the intimate friendship of women. For example,
+Madeline, regarding Bertha as the most confidential of sisters, told her
+every little thing, showed her every letter, and had no shadow of a
+secret from her in word or thought. Bertha was almost equally confiding
+except than an older married woman is never quite so frank with a girl
+friend--there must always be certain reservations. Bertha was an
+intimate friend of Nigel and practically told _him_ every little
+thing--he was "the sort of man you could tell everything to," he was
+interested, amused, and gave excellent advice. The result was obvious;
+very little about Rupert and his private romance with Madeline was
+unrevealed to Nigel.
+
+Nigel felt inclined to smile when he remembered all he had heard.
+Rupert, on the other hand, was not "the sort of man you could tell
+everything to"; he therefore had no confidential women friends and knew
+nothing at all about Nigel. For all he knew, he was just as much as ever
+_l'ami de la maison_ at Percy's house.
+
+At the very end of the dinner, which was a very pleasant one, during
+which Nigel had been sparkling and Rupert a little quiet, Nigel suddenly
+"felt it in his bones," as Bertha used to say--dear Bertha, she used to
+declare that her bones were so peculiarly and remarkably sensitive to
+anything of interest--Nigel felt, as I say, Rupert was longing to talk
+about Madeline.
+
+He therefore led the conversation to her, remarked how quiet she had
+been of late, and told him various things about her.
+
+"Did she ever mention me?" asked Rupert, as he looked down at his
+wineglass.
+
+"Oh yes, rather."
+
+"What did she say?"
+
+"She said," replied Nigel, "that she was jolly glad she never saw you
+now and that you were a silly rotter!"
+
+"I recognise Miss Madeline's style," replied Rupert with a smile, as he
+rose from the table.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+MOONA
+
+
+Like all cultivated people, particularly those who attach much
+importance to pleasure and amusement, variety, art, and the play, Nigel
+was very fond of Paris; it always pleased him to go there; and yet he
+doubted if he were quite as fond of it in reality as he was in theory.
+The best acting, the best cooking, the best millinery in the world was
+to be found in Paris; and yet Nigel wasn't sure that he didn't enjoy
+those things more when he got them in London--that he enjoyed French
+cooking best in an English restaurant, and even a French play at an
+English theatre. Certainly Paris was the centre of art. Nigel was fond
+of pictures, and he amused himself more with a few young French artists
+whom he happened to know living here than with anybody else in the city;
+and yet when he went back to London he sometimes felt that the
+recollection of it, the chatter of studios, the slang of the critics,
+even the whole sense and sound of Paris gave him a little the
+recollection as of a huge cage of monkeys. Like most modern Englishmen,
+he talked disparagingly about British hypocrisy, Anglo-Saxon humbug,
+English stiffness and London fog; and yet, after all, he missed and
+valued these very things. Wasn't the fog and the hypocrisy--one was the
+symbol of the other--weren't all these things the very charm of London?
+Fog and hypocrisy--that is to say, shadow, convention, decency--these
+were the very things that lent to London its poetry and romance.
+
+Everything in Paris, it was true, was picturesque, everything had colour
+and form, everything made a picture. But it was all too obvious;
+everything was all there ready for one's amusement, ready for one's
+pleasure. People were too obliging, too willing. And the men! Well,
+Nigel was far more of a _viveur_, of a lover of pleasure than
+ninety-nine Englishmen out of a hundred, yet he found too much of that
+point of view among the men he came across in Paris. From boys to old
+gentlemen, from the artists to a certain set among the _haute
+finance_--of whom he had some acquaintances--from the sporting young
+sprig of the Faubourg to the son of the sham jeweller in the Rue de
+Rivoli--all, without a single exception, seemed to think of nothing else
+but pleasure, in other words, of _les petites femmes_. For that--paying
+attention more or less serious to _les petites femmes_--seemed the one
+real idea of pleasure. Of this point of view Nigel certainly grew very
+tired, and he marvelled at the wonderful energy, the unflagging interest
+in the same eternal subject.
+
+They said, and of course thought, that there was nothing so charming as
+a French woman, particularly the Parisienne; but, except on one point,
+he was not entirely inclined to agree. This point was their dress. Their
+dress was delightful, their fashion was an art, and it had great, real
+charm. In whatever walk of life they were placed they were always
+exquisitely dressed. Nigel appreciated this sartorial gift, it was an
+art he understood and that amused, but weren't they on the whole--also
+in every walk of life--a little too much arranged, overdone, too much
+_maquillées_; weren't their faces too white, their lips too red, their
+hats too new? They knew how to put on their clothes to perfection, but
+he was not sure that he didn't prefer these beautiful clothes not quite
+so well put on; he thought he liked to see the pretty French dress put
+on a little wrong on a pretty Englishwoman; and then he thought of
+Bertha, of course. Nowhere in Paris was there anything quite like
+Bertha, that pink and white English complexion, that abundant fair hair,
+the natural flower-like look.
+
+Of course Bertha was unusually clever, lively and charming; she was not
+stiff or prim, she was very exceptional, but distinctly English, and he
+admired her more than all the Parisiennes in the world. Besides, he
+thought, one got very tired of them. When they _were bourgeoises_ they
+were so extremely _bourgeoises_; when they were smart they were so
+excessively _snob_. Perhaps it was through having seen a good deal of
+them for a little while that he met a compatriot of his with unexpected
+gratification.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He was walking with one of his artist friends on the boulevard when, to
+his great surprise, the artist was stopped by a young lady walking alone
+who evidently knew him. She was dressed in a very tight blue serge coat
+and skirt, she had black bandeaux of hair over her ears, from which
+depended imitation coral ear-rings. She had shoes with white spats, and
+a very small hat squashed over her eyes. She did not look in the least
+French. He knew her at once. It was the girl whose artistic education
+Rupert had at one time undertaken. It was Moona Chivvey.
+
+"Ah! Miss Chivvey! What a pleasure! And what are you doing here?"
+
+She replied that she and her friend, Mimsie Sutton, had taken a little
+studio and were studying art together with a number of other English
+and American girls with a great artist.
+
+Nigel's friend left his arm and went away. Nigel strolled on with Miss
+Chivvey.
+
+"And are you here quite alone with no chaperon," asked Nigel, with that
+momentary sort of brotherly feeling of being shocked that an Englishman
+nearly always feels when he sees a compatriot behaving unconventionally
+in a foreign land.
+
+"Chaperon! Oh! come off the roof," replied the young lady in her
+boisterous manner, which he saw had not at all toned down. "Of course
+I'm being chaperoned by Miss Sutton. I'm staying with Mimsie. Mother
+couldn't come, and didn't want me to come, but there's no hope of
+learning art in London; it's simply _hopeless_. You see we're serious,
+Mr. Hillier, we're studying really hard. We're going to do big things.
+Mimsie's a genius. I'm not; but I'm industrious. I'm a tremendous
+worker. Oh, I shall do something yet!"
+
+She was full of fire and enthusiasm, and continued to give him an
+immense quantity of information. He listened with interest and thought
+it rather touching. Of course she was genuine and believed in herself;
+equally, of course, she had no sort of talent. She was in a position in
+which no girl in her own class could be placed who was not English,
+except an American, and then it wouldn't be the same thing. No doubt she
+knew thoroughly well how to take care of herself, and most likely there
+was no need, even, that she should. Still, he thought it was rather
+pathetic that she should leave her parents and a thoroughly comfortable
+home in Camden Hill, in order to live in a wretchedly uncomfortable
+studio--he was sure it was wretchedly uncomfortable--and have a dull
+life with other depressing girls--all for the cultivation of a gift that
+was purely imaginary.
+
+"You must come and dine with me to-night, won't you, Miss Chivvey?"
+
+She was rather pretty, rather amusing, and she was English. He liked
+talking English again.
+
+"Well, I should like to very much, Mr. Hillier. Is your wife here?"
+
+"No; she's going to Felixtowe in a week or two with the children, and
+I'm going to join her there. I'm quite alone, so you must take pity on
+me. Must we have your friend Miss Sutton too?" he asked.
+
+"Oh no--I don't think it's necessary; it will be a change to go out
+without her. You see, here I am a worker and a Bohemian," she explained.
+"I don't go in for chaperons. I'm not social here!"
+
+"Besides, I'm English. You're all right with me," he returned in his
+most charming way. "Have you many English friends here?"
+
+He wanted to find out whether she was seeing Rupert; he soon discovered
+she was not, and he determined not to tell her of the presence of that
+young man. They might make it up, and Nigel thought it would be far
+better for Rupert to come back to Madeline. He was sure she was his real
+taste. And he still wanted to please Bertha.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They dined in a small but particularly excellent restaurant. She seemed
+to enjoy herself immensely, and grew every moment more confidential.
+Nigel tried not to flirt. He had no intention of doing so, and, had they
+met in London, would not have dreamt of such a thing; but meeting an
+English girl placed as she was gave a tinge of adventure and romance to
+his taking her out.
+
+She told him she had no flirtations and cared for no man in the world.
+He then led the conversation gradually to Rupert Denison. It did not
+take long for her to work herself up to give him a somewhat highly
+coloured version of their quarrel, which amused him. It ended with "and
+so I never saw him again."
+
+"I can't see that you have any real grievance, I must say. He seems to
+have been very nice to you, taken you out a great deal, and gone to see
+you pretty often. Did he not make love to you?"
+
+"Never, never, never," she replied. "He was just like a brother, or,
+rather, a sort of schoolmaster."
+
+"Then I believe that's what made you angry," he replied.
+
+"Indeed it isn't. At any rate, if it was a little, I assure you I'm not
+in love with him."
+
+He laughed, teased her about it, and now he found that she wished to go
+home. Feeling he ought not to take advantage of her position here, he
+was exceedingly respectful, and drove her to her flat, not before she
+had consented to dine and go to the theatre with him the next day.
+
+"That sort of girl is rather difficult to understand," he thought, as he
+drove away from the studio. "Perhaps now she's thinking me a fool as she
+thought Rupert."
+
+However, he remembered _he_ was married. He looked forward to the next
+evening with interest. At least Miss Chivvey was different from other
+people. One wasn't quite sure of her, and that fact had its attraction.
+She was really very good-looking too, very young, had beautiful eyes and
+teeth, and the high spirits of youth and health and enthusiasm. Pity
+she thought she could draw. How much better if she had gone in for
+first-rate plain cooking! He was sure she could learn that--if it was
+really plain.
+
+Next day he sent her a few flowers. After all, an Englishman must be
+gallant to his country-woman; but the next evening he thought she met
+him with a slightly cooler air and even with a little embarrassment.
+This melted away before the end of the evening.
+
+He then took her to the theatre in a little box. He was careful to
+choose a piece that he would have taken his own sister to see, but he
+forgot that he would not have let his own sister go to see it with a
+married man and no chaperon.
+
+His manner was becoming a shade more tender than was necessary, and he
+was sitting perhaps a shade nearer to her than was absolutely required,
+when, looking up, he saw two young men in the stalls, one of whom was
+looking at him and his companion with very great interest through an
+opera-glass. It was Rupert.
+
+Moona had not seen him, and Nigel now became aware of a distinct anxiety
+that she should not. He was rather sorry he had come: it might give
+Rupert a mistaken impression. It was not right to compromise her. He
+would explain, of course, the next day. But it was annoying to have to
+explain, and he would have explained anyhow. Nigel greatly disliked
+getting the credit, or, rather, the discredit, of something he did not
+deserve.
+
+He pretended to be bored with the play, and persuaded her to come and
+have an ice at a quiet and respectable place before she saw Rupert. She
+went in high spirits and great innocence.
+
+When they left Nigel said: "Do you know that I oughtn't to have taken
+you there to-night? It was wrong of me. If anyone had seen us there they
+would probably have mistaken our relations."
+
+She gave her boisterous laugh and said: "I see. Well, you would have had
+all the credit and none of the trouble."
+
+"You mean," he replied, "that I should have had all the infamy and none
+of the satisfaction."
+
+As they drove to the studio he took her hand and said: "One kiss."
+
+"Certainly not," she replied, taking it away. "Certainly not. Do you
+want me to be sorry I came out with you?"
+
+"I should like you to be glad," he replied. "Never mind, Miss Chivvey,
+forgive me. I won't ask you out again."
+
+"Why not? Haven't I been nice?"
+
+"Very nice. Too nice, too charming, too dangerous." He kissed her hand
+respectfully. "Good-bye. I'm angry with myself."
+
+"Never mind, I'll forgive you," she laughed flippantly.
+
+He drove away. Yes, one loses one's bearings travelling about alone,
+taking _jeunes filles_ to the theatre who live alone in Paris, say
+anything, have no chaperons, and are prudes all the time.
+
+"Confound it. I've made a fool of myself. But I must go and see Rupert."
+
+He lunched with that young man that day and told him word for word what
+had passed, even to the incident in the cab.
+
+He need not have been so expansive nor have humbled himself so much.
+
+Rupert had not for a moment misconstrued their presence at the theatre.
+
+Also he was not in the least surprised about the incident in the cab.
+
+Rupert was on the whole irritating. Nigel was glad to leave him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+TWO WOMEN
+
+
+Bertha was very much surprised at Mary's wishing to see her. She thought
+it most extraordinary and was much inclined to refuse, remembering the
+strangely insulting way Mary had behaved at her party. Nigel had
+apologised indeed; had implored for forgiveness; and she had written to
+say it was forgotten. But it is not an easy thing to forget.
+
+Percy had given a mild version of his interview with Nigel. He had also
+told her now about the destroyed letters. Bertha was certainly vexed
+that she had not been told before. It would have, at least, prevented
+her going to the party. However, she was soon tired of the subject and
+agreed with Percy not to mention it again. Bertha was, as she said
+herself, nothing of a harpist. She could not go on playing on one
+string. She made up her mind to forget it. She had begun to do so when
+Mary's telephone message reached her.
+
+Bertha was sitting by the fire when Mary was shown in. She looked at her
+most serene, her calmest and prettiest. It was not in her nature to bear
+malice nor even to be angry for more than a few hours about anything. By
+the end of that time she was always inclined to see the humorous side of
+anything, and to see that it was of less importance than appeared. She
+had already laughed several times to herself at the mere thought of the
+absurdity of a hostess asking one to her house and then behaving as Mary
+had done. Also she saw a comic--though pathetic--side to the typewritten
+letters. But it was painful, too, and she would very much rather have
+avoided this visit from Mrs. Hillier. It must be embarrassing for her,
+at least, and could hardly be other than disagreeable.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mary came in looking very pale and rather untidy. In the excitement of
+her mind and her general perturbation she had come out with two
+left-handed gloves, and during the whole of her visit endeavoured to
+force a left hand into a right-hand glove. It was maddening to watch
+her.
+
+Just as she started to go to see Bertha, poor Mary had gone to her
+toilet-table and put what she supposed to be powder lavishly on her nose
+without again looking in the glass. It was red rouge--the reddest and
+brightest. Although she afterwards rubbed a little of it off, she never
+saw herself in the glass again before starting. The result of this was
+to give her that touch of the grotesque that is so fatal to any scene of
+a serious nature but that in this case appealed to Bertha's kindness and
+sympathy rather than her sense of humour.
+
+"How are you, Mrs. Hillier? I have really hardly met you to speak to
+until to-day."
+
+"Good-morning, Mrs. Kellynch. ... It was kind of you to let me come."
+
+Mary sat down awkwardly and began to put her left hand into the
+right-hand glove. She sat near the light, and Bertha saw that she had
+been covering her face with what she supposed to be powder, but what was
+nothing else than carmine.
+
+Should she tell her?
+
+Could she let her remain in ignorance of this until afterwards? She
+would find it out when she went home.
+
+"I want to speak to you very much, Mrs. Kellynch. ... It is very
+awkward, but I feel I must."
+
+"Have some tea first," said Bertha, and while she poured it out and
+passed it to Mrs. Hillier she felt she could no longer leave her in
+ignorance of her appearance.
+
+She pointed to the silver looking-glass that stood on a small table, and
+said: "Mrs. Hillier, just look at that. I fancy you've put something on
+your face by mistake. Do forgive me!"
+
+Mary gave a shriek.
+
+"Good heavens, how horrible! I must have put rouge on instead of powder!
+I look like a comic actor!"
+
+Both of them laughed, and this rather cleared the air.
+
+"It was very good of you to tell me," said Mary. "Thank you. It's so
+like me! When I'm agitated I become too appallingly absent-minded for
+words. That's the sort of thing I do. How you must sneer--I mean, laugh
+at me, Mrs. Kellynch!"
+
+"Indeed not! What an idea. It could happen to anyone."
+
+"Well, I came to see you for two reasons. One is this: Mrs. Kellynch, I
+want to beg your pardon. I'm very, very sorry."
+
+"For what, Mrs. Hillier?"
+
+"For many things. I was horribly rude--I behaved shamefully at my party
+the other day. I must have been mad. I was so miserable." She said this
+in a low voice.
+
+Bertha held out her hand. The poor girl--she was not much more--looked
+so miserable, and had just looked so absurd! It must have been such a
+humiliation to know that one had called on one's rival got up like a
+comedian--a singer of comic songs at the Pavilion.
+
+"Mrs. Hillier, don't say any more. I quite forgive you, and will not
+think of it again. Don't let us talk of it any more. Have some more
+tea?"
+
+"No, thank you, Mrs. Kellynch. This isn't all. I have something else to
+tell you, and then I want, if I may, to consult you. I did a dreadful,
+dreadful thing! I don't know how I could! Oh, when I see you--when I
+look at you and see how sweet and kind you are----"
+
+Bertha, terrified that Mary would begin to cry and get hysterical, tried
+to stop her.
+
+"Don't, Mrs. Hillier. Don't tell me any more. It might--I guess what you
+are going to say--I know it might have caused great trouble. But it
+didn't. So never mind. You were upset--didn't think."
+
+"Oh no, Mrs. Kellynch; you must let me confess it. I sha'n't be at peace
+till I do. I want to tell--my husband--that I confessed and apologised.
+I actually wrote----"
+
+"Really, all this is unnecessary. You are giving us both unnecessary
+pain," said Bertha. "I know it--I guess it. Won't you leave it at that?
+All traces of--the trouble were destroyed, and, if you want to be kind
+to me now, you'll not speak of it any more."
+
+Mary had begun to cry, but she controlled herself, seeing it would
+please Bertha best.
+
+"Very well, I'll say no more. Only do, _do_ try to forgive me."
+
+"I do with all my heart."
+
+"Then you're angelic. Thank you." After a moment's pause, Mary put away
+her handkerchief.
+
+"Have a cigarette," suggested Bertha, who hardly knew what to do to
+compose her agitated visitor.
+
+"No, no, thank you. Mrs. Kellynch, may I really ask you a great, _great_
+favour?"
+
+"Please do."
+
+"May I consult you? I'm _so_ miserable--I'm wretched. Nigel has gone
+away and left me!"
+
+"Gone away."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But he'll come back? Surely, he means to come back?"
+
+"I _hope_ so. But he never left me before. Never since we have been
+married! And I am miserable. What shall I do--what can I do to make him
+fond of me?"
+
+This pathetic question brought tears to Bertha's eyes. She was truly
+sorry for the poor little creature.
+
+"Is he angry with you then?"
+
+"He's not exactly angry, now. He has been very kind. He has behaved
+beautifully. But he said he must go away for a time, and when he came
+back he would not refer to--to the subject of our quarrel again."
+
+"Well, that's all right then. There is no cause for being unhappy. It's
+nothing his going away for a week or two."
+
+"He says six weeks. Six long, dreadful weeks!"
+
+"Even _six_ weeks--it's nothing. After, you'll both be much happier, I'm
+sure," said Bertha consolingly. "Sometimes there is a sort of strain and
+a change is needed. It will be all right."
+
+"But, Mrs. Kellynch, you don't know--you don't understand. I have always
+been so terribly, madly jealous. I have worried him into it. You see--I
+can't help it, I love him so much! I do love him. You can't imagine what
+it is!"
+
+"Indeed I can!" cried Bertha. "I care _quite_ as much for Percy. You
+can't think how much."
+
+"Really and truly? But that's so different, because _he_ cares quite as
+much for you."
+
+"Indeed, I hope so," said Bertha seriously.
+
+"Yes. But Nigel doesn't--he's kind, but I don't think he cares much
+about me. What shall I do?"
+
+Bertha paused, deeply sorry. Then she said:
+
+"Nonsense! Of course he does, but you--if you'll excuse my saying
+so--you seem to worry him, to bother him with imaginary grievances, with
+unjust suspicious. What man will bear that?"
+
+"Then will you tell me what to do?" she asked, like a child.
+
+"First, don't beg him to come back. Write kindly, unselfishly,
+cheerfully."
+
+"Cheerfully! Oh, I can't."
+
+"Yes; you must if you want it to be all right. What man wants to be
+deluged with tears and complaints? Dear Mrs. Hillier, I'm speaking as a
+genuine friend. I'm speaking frankly. I'm advising you as I would my own
+sister. Write to him cheerily, and take an interest in his doings, but
+not _too_ great. Show less curiosity. Above all, no jealousy, no
+suspicions. It's the worst thing in the world."
+
+"Is it? Go on, dear Mrs. Kellynch. Tell me more."
+
+"Talk of the children--show interest in them--make him proud of them.
+There you have an advantage no other woman has. You're the mother of his
+children."
+
+"Does he care for that?"
+
+"Of course he does--and he will more, if you do. Show an interest and a
+pride in it, and you will be what no one else can be to him."
+
+Mary thought, and seemed to see it. "Go on, go on!" she said, putting
+out her hand.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Hillier, I have envied you so for that! All these years, I've
+never had that great happiness. At last"--she paused--"I'll tell you, if
+you care to know--at last, after ten years, I am going to have my wish."
+
+"Really! And you are pleased?"
+
+"I'm divinely happy, delighted!"
+
+"Then I'm very glad for you, Mrs. Kellynch. But can't you
+imagine--you're so pretty and charming and good-tempered and clever. I'm
+none of all these things. I'm not pretty, and I'm very bad-tempered and
+terribly jealous by nature and not clever."
+
+"You are his wife and he chose you. And he is a charming, pleasant man.
+You ought to be very happy together."
+
+"To tell the truth--I don't mind what I tell you--I feel you're kind and
+good and sincere--I have always had a horrible feeling that he married
+me--because--because he was hard up. And I had money! And yet----"
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Hillier, don't talk nonsense! It's dreadful of you to say so.
+You ought to be very glad to be able to have everything you want,
+without having to consider for your children. It's a great thing, I
+assure you, to have no money troubles. It's another very big reason for
+you and Nigel to be happy. You don't know what it is. It's agony! I do,
+because before I was married I was one of a very large family, and my
+father was a very popular preacher and all that, but it was a terrible
+struggle. To send the boys to public schools and Oxford, the girls had
+to be really dreadfully pinched! And always worries about bills! I was
+brought up in that atmosphere, and I know that to be entirely free from
+it is a most enormous relief and comfort. You will probably never know
+how fortunate you are."
+
+"You are right. Of course Nigel is not the man to endure money troubles
+well."
+
+"Exactly. Well, now, can't you see that you've every possible chance of
+happiness together?"
+
+"May I call you Bertha?" answered Mary. "You've been a real angel to me,
+I might have expected you to refuse to see me, or at least to be cold
+and unkind--and instead you're as sorry as you can be for me and want to
+see me happy! You are sweet."
+
+"Of course I'd like to see you happy," said Bertha. "You understand now
+that I also care for my husband? You're not the only one in the world,
+though I admit we're rather exceptions nowadays!"
+
+"Yes; and I thought because you were so pretty and sweet that you _must_
+be a flirt--at the very least."
+
+"I don't say I'm not, all the same. But I would never wish to interfere
+with other people's happiness."
+
+"I sometimes think it might be better if I were a little of a flirt,"
+sighed Mary. "But I can't--it's not my nature--or, rather, I'm too busy
+always looking after Nigel!"
+
+"Well, don't do that so much and he'll look after you all the more. Show
+interest in your appearance and society--let him be proud of you--and
+_don't_ be afraid of being fond of the children!"
+
+"I'm really tremendously fond of them," said Mary. "Only I was always so
+afraid he would think they would do instead of him! I have such a horror
+of his sending me off with them and thinking they will fill up all my
+life, while he was living like a gay bachelor! And when he was very
+sweet to them I really was jealous of them!"
+
+"But all this is absurd. If you show your affection for them he will
+love you far more, and when _he_ is devoted to them it shows he's
+devoted to you. Don't be foolish, Mrs. Hillier, you have had a sort of
+crisis. Do let it end there. Let things be different. He will be
+delighted to see you cheerful and jolly again. It's all in your own
+hands, really."
+
+"Thank you. It was a shame to bother you."
+
+She got up to go.
+
+"May I tell you, later on ... how things are? I shall follow your advice
+_exactly_!"
+
+Mary was looking at her now in a kind of worshipping gratitude and
+trust.
+
+"Yes, do. But I know it will be all right. Only be a little patient just
+now. ... He will miss you awfully, I know," said Bertha, smiling.
+
+"Oh! Will he _really_? How _sweet_ of you to say that! Good-bye, Bertha.
+Dear Bertha, you have been kind. I'm _so_ sorry." Tears came to her eyes
+again, but as she passed the little mirror she began to laugh. "To think
+I should have come to see you for the first time got up like a dame in a
+pantomime. How grotesque!"
+
+They both laughed. Laughter altered and improved Mary wonderfully. It
+was a faculty she never exercised. She was always much too serious.
+
+"Do you know, I haven't one woman friend," said Mary.
+
+"Yes, you have, _now_." Bertha pressed her hand.
+
+"Good-bye! ... Oh, Bertha, do you _really_ think he'll miss me?"
+
+"Of course he will! Awfully!"
+
+"Thanks. Good-bye!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Poor girl!" Bertha said to herself as Mary left the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+PLAIN SAILING
+
+
+Whether or not it was through meeting Nigel, at any rate, Rupert became
+exceedingly anxious to see Madeline again. It would have happened
+anyhow, but perhaps a little more slowly, since Nigel's rapid views may
+have had some influence on that more deliberate young man.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+However that may be, in the early autumn Madeline, almost overcome with
+joy, was married to her adored and cultured instructor. She always
+remained his painstaking pupil; and he seemed highly gratified with her
+general progress; while she continued to be equally pleased with his
+mode of instruction and anxious not to neglect her education in any way.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Nigel joined his wife he found her decidedly improved. Perhaps he
+really had missed the fact that he was of far more importance to her
+than to anyone else in the world. She never conquered her jealousy; but
+she learnt to conceal it, and thus to keep the peace; the children
+became gradually a source of mutual interest that was a real tie between
+them; in fact it grew in time into a positive hobby and a cause of so
+much pride and satisfaction as to be rather a bore to many of their
+friends.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I find I am finishing my story in a manner no less strange than
+unconventional nowadays: I am leaving no less than three almost
+perfectly happy couples! If this is a strain on the imagination of the
+reader, let it be remembered that they had all had their troubles and
+storms before they reached this point of smooth water.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nigel, of course, deserved his peace and comfort the least. Percy,
+however, with his squash rackets and afternoon concerts (which, however,
+he grew to neglect in order to be more with Bertha), was the least
+interesting of all my heroes. Yet Bertha remained, I must admit, of all
+my heroines, by far the most in love.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIRD OF PARADISE***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 27323-8.txt or 27323-8.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/7/3/2/27323
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://www.gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/27323-8.zip b/27323-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2f5e9d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-8.zip
diff --git a/27323-h.zip b/27323-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0676e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-h.zip
diff --git a/27323-h/27323-h.htm b/27323-h/27323-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4adf1f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-h/27323-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,8523 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bird of Paradise, by Ada Leverson</title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    clear: both;
+}
+h1 {line-height: 1.5em;}
+h1.pg {line-height: 1em;}
+p {
+    margin-top: .75em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: .75em;
+    text-indent: 1em;
+}
+p.cap {text-indent: 0em; padding-top: 1em;}
+p.cap:first-letter { float: left;
+   margin: .1px 3px 0px 0;
+   padding: 0;
+   line-height: .9em; font-size: 300%;}
+
+hr { margin: 5em auto 3em auto;
+     height: 0px;
+     border-width: 0px 0 0 0;
+     border-style: solid;
+     border-color: transparent;
+     width: 80%;
+     clear: both;
+}
+hr.hr2a {margin: 5em auto 1em auto; height: 1px; border-width: 1px 0 0 0; border-color: #adadad; width: 200px;}
+hr.hr2b {margin: 1em auto 5em auto; height: 1px; border-width: 1px 0 0 0; border-color: #adadad; width: 200px;}
+hr.hr2 {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; width: 40%;}
+hr.hr3 {margin: 5em auto 3em auto; width: 80%; height: 1px; border-width: 1px 0 0 0; border-color: #adadad;}
+
+table {
+    margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;
+}
+td {vertical-align: top;}
+.tdr {text-align: right; padding-right: 1em; text-indent: 0;}
+.tdl {text-align: left; padding-right: .5em;  margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;}
+.tdr2 {text-align: right; padding-left: .5em; text-indent: 0; vertical-align: bottom;}
+
+.pagenum  {/* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+           /*visibility: hidden;*/
+            position: absolute;
+            left: 95%;
+            font-size: 10px;
+            font-weight: normal;
+            font-variant: normal;
+            font-style: normal;
+            letter-spacing: normal;
+            text-indent: 0em;
+            text-align: right;
+            color: #999999;
+            background-color: #ffffff;
+} /* page numbers */
+
+.blockquot {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+.center   {text-align: center;}
+.right    {text-align: right; padding-right: 1em; margin: 0em auto 0em auto;}
+.nb       {margin-bottom: 0em;}
+.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+.noi {text-indent: 0em;}
+
+.figleft  {float: left; clear: left; margin: 10px 1px 0em 0em; padding: 0; text-align: left;}
+
+.none {display: none;}
+
+.block {text-align: center; margin: auto; width: 24em;}
+
+.mid {padding-left: 50%;}
+
+/* Poetry */
+.poem {
+    margin-left:10%;
+    margin-right:10%;
+    text-align: left;
+}
+
+.poem br {display: none;}
+
+.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+
+.poem span.io {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 0em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3.5em;
+}
+
+.poem span.i0 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 0em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+.poem span.i2 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 2em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+.poem span.i4 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 4em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+    hr.full { width: 100%;
+              margin-top: 3em;
+              margin-bottom: 0em;
+              margin-left: auto;
+              margin-right: auto;
+              height: 4px;
+              border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */
+              border-style: solid;
+              border-color: #000000;
+              clear: both; }
+    pre      {font-size: 85%;}
+// -->
+/* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Bird of Paradise, by Ada Leverson</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 = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Bird of Paradise</p>
+<p>Author: Ada Leverson</p>
+<p>Release Date: November 24, 2008  [eBook #27323]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIRD OF PARADISE***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>BIRD OF PARADISE<br />
+
+<small><small><small>BY</small></small><br />
+
+ADA LEVERSON</small></h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h5>Grant Richards Ltd.<br />
+1914</h5>
+
+
+
+<hr class="hr2a" />
+
+<h2>TO<br />
+ERNEST</h2>
+
+<hr class="hr2b" />
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="contents" id="contents"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table summary="Table of Contents" style="width: 30em;">
+<colgroup>
+<col width="10%" />
+<col width="80%" />
+<col width="10%" />
+</colgroup>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl" colspan="2">Chapter</td>
+<td class="tdr2">Page</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">I</td>
+<td class="tdl">EXCUSES</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#I">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">II</td>
+<td class="tdl"> LADY KELLYNCH</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#II">25</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">III</td>
+<td class="tdl"> NIGEL</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#III">38</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">IV</td>
+<td class="tdl"> RUPERT AT RUMPELMEYER&#8217;S</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#IV">49</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">V</td>
+<td class="tdl"> A HAPPY HOME</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#V">63</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">VI</td>
+<td class="tdl"> FUTURISM</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VI">77</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">VII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> RUSSIAN BALLET</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VII">90</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">VIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> PERCY</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VIII">95</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">IX</td>
+<td class="tdl"> AN ANONYMOUS LETTER</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#IX">110</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">X</td>
+<td class="tdl"> MASTER CLIFFORD KELLYNCH</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#X">120</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XI</td>
+<td class="tdl"> A DISCOVERY</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XI">129</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> A LOVE SCENE</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XII">142</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> RECONCILIATION</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIII">150</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XIV</td>
+<td class="tdl"> &#8220;TANGO&#8221;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIV">155</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XV</td>
+<td class="tdl"> CLIFFORD&#8217;S HISTORICAL PLAY</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XV">163</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XVI</td>
+<td class="tdl"> A SECOND PROPOSAL</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVI">167</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XVII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> MORE ABOUT RUPERT</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVII">172</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XVIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> &#8220;A SPECIAL FAVOUR&#8221;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVIII">177</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XIX</td>
+<td class="tdl"> A DEVOTED WIFE</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIX">184</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XX</td>
+<td class="tdl"> RUPERT AGAIN</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XX">     192</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXI</td>
+<td class="tdl"> THE HILLIERS&#8217; ENTERTAINMENT</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXI">196</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> BERTHA AT HOME</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXII">202</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> NIGEL&#8217;S LETTER</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIII">205</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXIV</td>
+<td class="tdl"> LADY KELLYNCH AT HOME</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIV">210</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXV</td>
+<td class="tdl"> MRS. PICKERING</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXV">219</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXVI</td>
+<td class="tdl"> NEWS FROM VENICE</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVI">227</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXVII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> ANOTHER ANONYMOUS LETTER</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVII">232</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXVIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> AN INTERVIEW</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVIII">237</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXIX</td>
+<td class="tdl"> NIGEL AND MARY</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIX">245</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXX</td>
+<td class="tdl"> MISS BELVOIR</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXX">256</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXXI</td>
+<td class="tdl"> MARY&#8217;S PLAN</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXI">263</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXXII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> PRIVATE FIREWORKS AT THE PICKERINGS&#8217;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXII">267</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXXIII</td>
+<td class="tdl"> NIGEL ABROAD</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXIII">284</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXXIV</td>
+<td class="tdl"> MOONA</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXIV">289</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXXV</td>
+<td class="tdl"> TWO WOMEN</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXV">300</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdr">XXXVI</td>
+<td class="tdl"> PLAIN SAILING</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXVI">313</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="hr3" />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span><a name="I" id="I"></a>CHAPTER I<br />
+<br />
+EXCUSES</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">POOR Madeline came into the room a little flustered and hustled, with
+papers in her muff. She found Bertha looking lovely and serene as usual.</p>
+
+<p>Madeline Irwin was a modern-looking girl of twenty-three; tall, thin,
+smart and just the right shape; not pretty, but very sympathetic, with
+thick dark hair and strongly marked eyebrows, a rather long and narrow
+face, delicately modelled, a clear white complexion, and soft, sincere
+brown eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha&#8212;Mrs. Percy Kellynch&#8212;was known as a beauty. She was indeed
+improbably pretty, small, plump and very fair, with soft golden hair
+that was silky and yet fluffy, perfectly regular little features, and a
+kind of infantine sweetness, combined with an almost incredible
+cleverness that was curious and fascinating. She was of a type remote
+equally from the fashion-plate and the suffragette, and was so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
+physically attractive that one could hardly be near her without longing
+to put out a finger and touch her soft, fair face or her soft hair; as
+one would like to touch a kitten or a pretty child. And yet one felt
+that it would not be an entirely safe thing to do; like the child or the
+kitten she might scratch or run away. But it is probable that a large
+average of her acquaintance had been weak enough&#8212;or strong enough&#8212;to
+give way to the temptation and take the risk.</p>
+
+<p>This charming little creature sat in a room furnished in clear, pale
+colours&#8212;that was pink, white and blonde like herself. Madeline sat down
+without greeting her, saying in a scolding voice, as she rustled a
+letter:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s refused again &#8230; more excuses &#8230; always, always excuses!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, all the better; excuses are a form of compliment. I&#8217;d far rather
+have a lot of apology and attenuation than utter coolness,&#8221; said Bertha
+consolingly. She had a low, even voice, and rarely made a gesture. Her
+animation was all in her eyes. They were long, bluish-grey, with dark
+lashes, and very expressive.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you&#8217;d <i>like</i> a man to write and say that he couldn&#8217;t come to dinner
+because it was his mother&#8217;s birthday, and he always dined with her on
+that occasion, and besides he was in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> deep mourning, and had influenza,
+and was going to the first night at the St. James&#8217;s, and was expecting
+some old friends up from the country to stay with him, and would be out
+of town shooting at the time?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Certainly; so much inventive ingenuity is most flattering. Don&#8217;t you
+think it&#8217;s better than to say on the telephone that he wouldn&#8217;t be able
+to come that evening as he wouldn&#8217;t be able to; and then ring off?&#8221; said
+Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rupert would never do that! He&#8217;s intensely polite; politeness is
+ingrained in his nature. I&#8217;m rather hopeless about it all; and yet when
+I think how sometimes when I speak to him and he doesn&#8217;t answer but
+gives that slight smile &#8230;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How well I know that slight, superior smile&#8212;discouraging yet spurring
+you on to further efforts! &#8230; Rupert&#8212;Rupert! What a name! How can
+people be called Rupert? It isn&#8217;t done, you&#8217;re not living in a
+<i>feuilleton</i>, you must change the man&#8217;s name, dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t! Nonsense; it&#8217;s a beautiful name! Rupert Denison! It
+suits him; it suits me. Bertha, you can&#8217;t deny it&#8217;s a handsome, noble
+face, like a Vandyke portrait of Charles I, or one of those people in
+the National Gallery. And he must take a certain amount of interest in
+me, because he wants me to learn more, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> be more cultured. He&#8217;s so
+accomplished! He knows simply everything. The other day he sent me a
+book about the early Italian masters.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did he, though? How jolly!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A little volume of Browning, too&#8212;that tiny edition, beautifully
+bound.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha made an inarticulate sound.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you know he found out my birthday, and sent me a few dark red roses
+and Ruskin&#8217;s Stones of Venice.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing like being up to date,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;Right up to the day after
+to-morrow! Rupert always is. How did he find out your birthday?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How do you suppose?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t think. By looking in <i>Who&#8217;s Who?</i>&#8212;going to Somerset House or
+the British Museum?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How unkind you are! Of course not. No&#8212;I told him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, I thought perhaps it was some ingenious plan like that. I should
+think that&#8217;s the way he usually finds out things&#8212;by being told.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bertha, why do you sneer at him?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did I?&#8212;I didn&#8217;t mean to. Why does he behave like a belated
+schoolmaster?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Behave like a&#8212;oh, Bertha!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Madeline was trying to be offended, but she could not succeed. It was
+nearly impossible to be angry with Bertha, when she was present.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> There
+were many reasons for this. Bertha had a small arched mouth, teeth that
+were tiny and white and marvellously regular, a dimple in her left
+cheek, long eyelashes that gave a veiled look to the eyes, and a
+generally very live-wax-dollish appearance which was exceedingly
+disarming. There was a touch, too, of the china shepherdess about her.
+But, of course, she was not really like a doll, nor remote from life;
+she was very real, living and animated; though she had for the
+connoisseur all the charm of an exquisite <i>bibelot</i> that is not for
+sale.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Bertha was twenty-eight, but looked younger than her age. Madeline might
+have been her senior. Under this peachlike appearance, and with the
+premeditated <i>&#239;t&#233;</i> of her manner, she was always astonishing people
+by her penetration and general ingenuity; she was at once very quick and
+very deep&#8212;quick especially to perceive and enjoy incongruities, and
+deep in understanding them; extremely observant, and not in the least
+superficial. Almost her greatest interest was the study of character;
+she had an intellectual passion for going below the surface, and finding
+out the little <i>coins in&#233;dits</i> of the soul. She was rather unpractical,
+but only in execution, and she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> the gift of getting the practical
+side of life well done for her, not letting it be neglected. Her
+bonbonni&#232;re of a drawing-room seemed to be different from ordinary
+rooms, though one hardly knew in what; partly from the absence of
+superfluities; and somehow after many a triumph over the bewilderment of
+a sulky yet dazzled decorator, Bertha had contrived, in baffling him, to
+make the house look distinguished without being unconventional; dainty
+without being artificial; she had made it suit her perfectly and, what
+was more, the atmosphere was reposeful. Her husband always besought her
+to do anything on earth she wished in her own home, rather in the same
+way that one would give an intelligent canary <i>carte blanche</i> about the
+decoration of what was supposed to be its cage.</p>
+
+<p>Percy Kellynch, the husband&#8212;he was spoken of as the husband (people
+said: &#8220;Is that the husband?&#8221; or &#8220;What&#8217;s the husband like?&#8221;)&#8212;was a
+rather serious-looking barrister with parliamentary ambitions, two mild
+hobbies (which took the form of Tschaikowsky at the Queen&#8217;s Hall and
+squash rackets at the Bath Club), a fine forehead, behind which there
+was less doing than one would suppose, polished manners, an amiable
+disposition and private means.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>For Madeline&#8217;s sake, Bertha was interested in Rupert Denison, and
+determined to understand him. When she reached bedrock in her friends,
+it was not unusual for her to grow tired of them. But she was gentle and
+considerate even to the people who left her cold; and when she really
+cared for anyone, she was loyal, passionate and extraordinarily
+tenacious.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>&#8220;A schoolmaster!&#8221; repeated Madeline rather dismally. &#8220;Well! perhaps
+there may be just a touch of that in Rupert. When I&#8217;m going to see him I
+do feel rather nervous and a little as if I was going up for an exam.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, let&#8217;s say a holiday tutor,&#8221; conceded Bertha. &#8220;He <i>is</i> so
+educational!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;At any rate, he bothers about what I ought and oughtn&#8217;t to know; he
+pays me <i>some</i> attention!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The only modern thing about him is his paying you so little,&#8221; said
+Bertha. &#8220;And, Madeline, we mustn&#8217;t forget that young men are very
+difficult to get hold of nowadays&#8212;for girls. Everyone complains of it.
+Formerly they wouldn&#8217;t dance, but they&#8217;d do everything else. Now,
+dancing&#8217;s the only thing they will do. People are always making bitter
+remarks to me about it. There&#8217;s not the slightest doubt that, except for
+dancing, young men just now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> somehow or other, are scarce, wild and
+shy. And the funny thing is that they&#8217;ll two-step and one-step and
+double-Boston and Tango the whole evening, but that&#8217;s practically all.
+Oh, they&#8217;re most unsatisfactory! Lots of girls have told me so. And as
+to proposals! Why, they&#8217;re the <i>rarest</i> thing! Even when the modern
+young man is devoted you can&#8217;t be sure of serious intentions, except, of
+course, in the Royal Family, or at the Gaiety.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, <i>I</i> don&#8217;t care! I&#8217;m sure I don&#8217;t want all these silly dancing
+young men. They bore me to death. Give me <i>culture</i>! and all that sort
+of thing. Only&#8212;only Rupert! &#8230; Very often after he&#8217;s refused an
+invitation, like this of mother&#8217;s, he&#8217;ll write and ask me to have tea
+with him at Rumpelmeyer&#8217;s, or somewhere; and then he&#8217;ll talk and talk
+the whole time about &#8230; oh, any general instructive subject.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For instance?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh &#8230; architecture!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How inspiriting!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But does it all mean anything, Bertha?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I almost think it must,&#8221; she answered dreamily. &#8220;No man could take a
+girl out to eat ices and talk of the cathedral at Rouen, or discuss
+Pointed Gothic and Norman arches over tea and bread and butter, without
+<i>some</i> intentions. It wouldn&#8217;t be human.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>&#8220;It&#8217;s quite true he always seems to take a good deal for granted,&#8221;
+remarked Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But not enough.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Exactly!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rupert would make a very good husband&#8212;if you could stand him,&#8221; said
+Bertha meditatively; &#8220;he&#8217;s one of those thoroughly well-informed people
+who never know what is going on.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If I could <i>stand</i> him! Why, Bertha! I&#8217;d work my fingers to the bone,
+and lay down my life for him!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He doesn&#8217;t want your life, and, probably, not bony fingers either, but
+he&#8217;ll want incense swung, <i>all</i> the time, remember; and always in front
+of him only. He won&#8217;t be half as good-natured and indulgent as Percy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course, Percy&#8217;s very sweet, and kind and clever, and devoted to
+you,&#8221; said Madeline, &#8220;but I always feel that it would have been more
+your ideal to have married your first love, Nigel; and far more
+romantic, too. He&#8217;s so good-looking and amusing, and how delightfully he
+sings Debussy!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nigel! Oh, nonsense. There&#8217;s no one more really prosaic. Debussy,
+indeed! I met him with his wife the other night at the opera and he
+introduced us. My dear, she&#8217;s got flat red hair, an aigrette, a
+turned-up nose, a receding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> chin and long ear-rings; and she&#8217;s quite
+young and very dowdy: the sort of dowdiness that&#8217;s rather smart. She
+loathed me&#8212;that is to say, we took a mutual dislike, and a
+determination never to meet again, so strong that it amounted to a kind
+of friendship; we tacitly agreed to keep out of each other&#8217;s way. I
+suppose there&#8217;s such a thing as a sort of comradeship in aversion,&#8221;
+Bertha added thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Bertha, fancy anybody disliking you!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s only because Nigel had told her, <i>in camera</i>, that he was in love
+with me once, and that we were almost engaged.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did he say who broke it off?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I should think he told the truth&#8212;that he did&#8212;but he didn&#8217;t
+mention the real reasons, that he was horribly hard up and saw a chance
+of marrying an heiress. I daresay, too, that he said no other woman
+would ever be quite the same to him again, for fear Mrs. Nigel should be
+too pleased. Nigel is nice and amusing and he&#8217;s sometimes very useful.
+He thinks he treated me badly, and really has got to appreciate me
+since, and as he knows I&#8217;m utterly indifferent to him now, he&#8217;s devoted,
+I mean as a friend&#8212;he&#8217;ll do anything on earth for me. He has absolutely
+nothing to do, you see; it&#8217;s a kindness to employ him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you give him to do?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>&#8220;It depends. This time I&#8217;ve told him to get hold of Rupert and ask us
+all three&#8212;I mean you, and me and Rupert&#8212;to dine and go to some play.
+It would be so much less ceremonious than asking Rupert here, with
+Percy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, darling Bertha, you&#8217;re an angel! I always said Nigel was charming.
+What about Mrs. Nigel, and Percy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t worry; that shall be arranged. Their rights shall not be ignored,
+nor their interests neglected! Percy&#8217;s little finger is worth all Nigel.
+Still, Nigel has his good points; he might help us in this. There are so
+many things he can do, he&#8217;s so <i>fin</i>&#8212;and adaptable, and diplomatic.
+That young brother of his, Charlie, is in love with you, Madeline. Now,
+he&#8217;s a boy who <i>could</i> marry, and who wants to. If you gave him only a
+look of encouragement he would propose at once. And he has a good deal
+of Nigel&#8217;s charm, though he&#8217;s not so clever, but he&#8217;s very much
+steadier. Really, it&#8217;s a pity you don&#8217;t like him. I&#8217;m sorry.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I couldn&#8217;t,&#8221; said Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s quite a nice boy, too; and I know how much he likes you, from
+Nigel.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I couldn&#8217;t!&#8221; Madeline repeated, shaking her head.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha seemed silently to assent.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>&#8220;And will dear Nigel ask me all the same to meet Rupert, Bertha?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes; we&#8217;ll arrange it to-day. Nigel&#8217;s delightfully prompt, and never
+delays anything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And what will happen to Percy? You scarcely ever go out without him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I can persuade Percy, for once, that he wants his mother to go with
+him to the Queen&#8217;s Hall. And I&#8217;ll make Lady Kellynch think it&#8217;s rather a
+shame of her to take my place; then she&#8217;ll enjoy it. We&#8217;ll arrange it
+for next week. I&#8217;m expecting her this afternoon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, are you? I&#8217;m always rather afraid she doesn&#8217;t like me,&#8221; said
+Madeline pensively.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She doesn&#8217;t <i>dis</i>like you. She doesn&#8217;t dislike anybody; only, simply,
+you don&#8217;t exist for her. My mother-in-law really believes that the whole
+of humanity consists of her own family; first, her late husband; then
+Percy, then Clifford, the boy at school, and, in a very slight degree,
+me too, because I&#8217;m married to Percy. I do like Clifford, though he&#8217;s a
+spoilt boy, and selfish. But he&#8217;s great fun. How his mother adores him!
+I hope she won&#8217;t stay long to-day&#8212;Nigel will be here at six.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Madeline fell into a reverie, a sort of mental swoon. Then she suddenly
+woke up and said with great animation,</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>&#8212;&#8220;No, I suppose I dare not hope it!&#8212;I believe I should expire with
+joy!&#8212;but he <i>never</i> will! But if he <i>did</i> propose, how do you suppose
+he&#8217;d do it, Bertha?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Heaven knows&#8212;quote Browning, I suppose,&#8221; said Bertha, &#8220;I don&#8217;t often
+meet that type. I can only guess. Do you care so much, Madeline?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>Do</i> I care!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you believe it&#8217;s the real thing?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know it is&#8212;on my side; it&#8217;s incurable.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Everyone says Rupert&#8217;s a good fellow, but he seems to me a little&#8212;what
+shall I say?&#8212;too elaborate. Too urbane; too ornate. He expresses
+himself so dreadfully well! I don&#8217;t believe he ever uses a shorter word
+than <i>individuality</i>!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I don&#8217;t care what he is, I want him&#8212;I want him!&#8221; cried Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well! I suppose you know what you want. It isn&#8217;t as though you were
+always in love with somebody or other; as a rule, a girl of your age, if
+she can&#8217;t have the person she wants, can be very quickly consoled if you
+give her someone else instead. Now, you&#8217;ve never had even a fancy
+before. <i>I</i> may not (I don&#8217;t) see the charm of Rupert, but it must be
+there; probably there&#8217;s something in his temperament that&#8217;s needed by
+yours&#8212;something that he can supply to you that no one else can. If you
+really want him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> you must have him, darling,&#8221; said Bertha, with
+resolution. &#8220;You shall!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How can you say that; how can you make him care for me if he doesn&#8217;t?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know, but I shall. It&#8217;s certain; don&#8217;t worry; and do what I
+tell you. Mind, I think that there are many other people far more
+amusing, besides being better matches from the worldly point of
+view&#8212;like Charlie Hillier, for instance&#8212;but the great thing is that
+you care for your Rupert; and I don&#8217;t believe you&#8217;ll change.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They were never demonstrative to each other, and Madeline only looked at
+her with trusting, beaming gratitude. Bertha was indeed convinced that
+this mania for Rupert was the real thing; it would never fade from
+fulfilment, nor even die if discouraged; it would always burn
+unalterably bright.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; yes, it shall be all right,&#8221; repeated Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>She spoke in a curious, reassuring tone that Madeline knew, and that
+always impressed her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Really? Yet you say they are so difficult nowadays!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, the majority of the men in our set certainly don&#8217;t seem to be
+exactly pining for hearth and home. Still, in some moods a man will
+marry anyone who happens to be there.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>&#8221;&#8220;Then must I happen to be there? How can I?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha laughed. There was a confidence without reservation between them,
+notwithstanding a slight tinge of the histrionic in Madeline, which
+occasionally irritated Bertha. But the real link was that they both
+instinctively threw overboard all but the essential; they cared
+comparatively little for most of the preoccupations and smaller
+solicitudes of the women in their own leisured class. There was in
+neither of them anything of the social snob or the narrow outlook of the
+bourgeoise; they were free from pose, petty ambitions, or trivial
+affectations.</p>
+
+<p>Madeline looked up to Bertha as a wonderful combination of kindness,
+cleverness, beauty and knowledge of the world. Bertha felt that Madeline
+was not quite so well equipped for dealing with life as she herself was;
+there was a shade of protection in her friendship.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha was far more daring than Madeline, but her occasional
+recklessness was only pluck and love of adventure; not imprudence; it
+was always guided by reason and an instinctive sense of
+self-preservation. She was a little experimental, that was all. Madeline
+was more timid and sensitive; though not nearly so quick to see things
+as Bertha she took them to heart more, far more;&#8212;was far less lively
+and ironical.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>&#8220;Though I find Rupert dull, as I say, I believe he&#8217;s as good as gold, or
+I wouldn&#8217;t try and help you. Now if he were a man like Nigel!&#8212;who&#8217;s
+very much more fascinating and charming&#8212;I wouldn&#8217;t raise a finger,
+because I know he&#8217;s fickle, dangerous and selfish, and wouldn&#8217;t make you
+happy. Charlie would, though; I wish you liked Charlie. But one can&#8217;t
+account for these things.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quite impossible,&#8221; Madeline said, shaking her head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well! It&#8217;s quite possible that Rupert would suit you best; and I
+believe if you once got him he&#8217;d be all right. And you shall!&#8221; she
+repeated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>Thank</i> you!&#8221; said Madeline fervently, as if Bertha had promised her a
+box of chocolates or a present of some kind.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Lady Kellynch!&#8221; announced the servant.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span><a name="II" id="II"></a>CHAPTER II
+<br />
+<br />LADY KELLYNCH</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">A TALL, stately, handsome woman, slow and quiet in movement, dressed in
+velvet and furs, came deliberately into the room. The magnificent,
+imposing Lady Kellynch had that quiet dignity and natural ease and
+distinction sometimes seen in the widow of a knight, but unknown amongst
+the old aristocracy. It was generally supposed, or, at all events,
+stated, that the late Sir Percy Kellynch had been knighted by mistake
+for somebody else; through a muddle owing to somebody&#8217;s deafness. The
+result was the same, since his demise left her with a handle to her
+name, but no one to turn it (to quote the <i>mot</i> of a well-known wit),
+and she looked, at the very least, like a peeress in her own right.
+Indeed, she was the incarnation of what the romantic lower middle
+classes imagine a great lady;&#8212;a dressmaker&#8217;s ideal of a duchess. She
+had the same high forehead, without much thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> behind it, so
+noticeable in her son Percy, and the same clearly cut features; and it
+was true, as Bertha had said, that she firmly believed the whole of the
+world, of the slightest importance, consisted of her late husband,
+herself, her married son Percy, and her boy Clifford at school; the rest
+of the universe was merely an audience, or a background, for this unique
+family.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>If anyone spoke of a European crisis that was interesting the general
+public, she would reply by saying what Percy thought about it; if a more
+frivolous subject (such as <i>You Shut Up</i>, or some other popular Revue)
+was mentioned, she would answer, reassuringly, that she knew Clifford
+had a picture post-card of one of the performers, implying thereby that
+it <i>must</i> be all right. She loved Bertha mildly, and with reservations,
+because Percy loved her, and because Bertha wished her to; but she
+really thought it would have been more suitable if Bertha had been a
+little more colourless, a little plainer, a little stupider and more
+ordinary; not that her attractions would ever cause any trouble to
+Percy, but because it seemed as if a son of hers ought to have a wife to
+throw him up more. Percy, however, had no idea that Bertha<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> was anything
+but a good foil to him, intellectually&#8212;and, as I have said, he regarded
+her (or believed he regarded her) a good deal like a pet canary.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy will soon be home, I suppose? To-day is not the day he goes to
+the Queen&#8217;s Hall, is it?&#8221; asked Lady Kellynch, who thought any hall was
+highly honoured by Percy&#8217;s presence, and very lucky to get it. She gave
+a graceful but rather unrecognising bow to Madeline, whom she never knew
+by sight. She really knew hardly anyone by sight except her sons; and
+this was the more odd as she had a particularly large circle of
+acquaintances, and made a point of accepting and returning every
+invitation she received, invariably being amongst those present at every
+possible form of entertainment, and punctiliously calling on people
+afterwards. She was always mounting staircases, going up in lifts, and
+driving about leaving cards, and was extremely hospitable and
+superlatively social. Bertha always wondered at her gregariousness,
+since one would fancy she could have got very little satisfaction in
+continual intercourse with a crowd of people whom she forgot the instant
+they were out of her sight. Lady Kellynch really knew people chiefly by
+their telephone numbers and their days, when they had any. She would
+say: &#8220;Mrs. So-and-so? Oh yes, six-three-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>seven-five Gerrard, at home on
+Sundays,&#8221; but could rarely recollect anything else about her. She was at
+once vague and precise, quite amiable, very sentimental and utterly
+heartless; except to her sons.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, Percy won&#8217;t be home till dinner-time. To-day he&#8217;s playing squash
+rackets.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s so like his father,&#8221; said Lady Kellynch admiringly. &#8220;He was
+always so fond of sports, and devoted to music. When I say sports, to be
+<i>strictly</i> accurate I don&#8217;t mean that he ever cared for rude, rough
+games like football or anything cruel like hunting or shooting, but he
+loved to look on at a game of cricket, and I&#8217;ve often been to Lord&#8217;s
+with him.&#8221; She sighed. &#8220;Dominoes! he was wild about dominoes! I assure
+you (dear Percy would remember), every evening after dinner he must have
+his game of dominoes, and sometimes even after lunch.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dominoes, as you say, isn&#8217;t exactly a field sport,&#8221; sympathetically
+agreed Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quite so, dear. But, however, that was his favourite game. Then, did I
+say just now he was fond of music? He didn&#8217;t care for the kind that
+Percy likes, but he would rarely send a piano-organ away, and he even
+encouraged the German bands. How fond he was of books too&#8212;and reading,
+and that sort of thing!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> Percy gets his fondness for books from his
+father. Clifford too is fond of books.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is indeed,&#8221; said Bertha; &#8220;he&#8217;s devoted to books. Last time I went to
+see him, when he was at home for the holidays, I found among his books a
+nice copy of &#8216;The New Arabian Nights.&#8217; We hadn&#8217;t one in the house at the
+time, and I asked him to lend it to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did you indeed?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch looked a shade surprised, as if it had been rather a
+liberty.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; said Bertha, laughing, and turning to Madeline, &#8220;what do you
+think he said? &#8216;Bertha, I&#8217;m awfully sorry, but I make it a rule never to
+lend books. I don&#8217;t approve of it&#8212;half the time they don&#8217;t come back,
+and in fact&#8212;oh, I don&#8217;t think it&#8217;s a good plan. I never do it.&#8217; I took
+up the book and found written in it: &#8216;<i>To Bertha, with love from
+Percy</i>.&#8217; I said: &#8216;So you don&#8217;t approve of lending books. Do you see this
+is my book?&#8217; He looked at it and said solemnly: &#8216;Yes, so it is, but I
+can&#8217;t let you have it. I&#8217;m in the middle of it. Besides&#8212;oh! anyhow, I
+want it!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Madeline and Bertha both laughed, saying that Clifford was really
+magnificent for twelve years old.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>Lady Kellynch seemed astonished at their amusement. She only said: &#8220;Oh
+yes; I know Clifford&#8217;s <i>most</i> particular about his books.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And even about my books,&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quite so, dear. They say in his report that he&#8217;s getting so orderly.
+It&#8217;s a very good report this term&#8212;er&#8212;at least, very good on the
+<i>whole</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, do let me see it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ll show it you. But I&#8217;ll tell you what I&#8217;ll do,
+I&#8217;ll read you some extracts from it, if you like.&#8221; She said this as if
+it were an epic poem, and she was promising them a rare literary treat.</p>
+
+<p>She took something out of her bag. &#8220;I know he doesn&#8217;t work <i>very</i> hard
+at school, but then the winter term is such a trying one; so cold for
+them to get up in the morning, poor little darlings!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor pets!&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch took it out, while the others looked away discreetly, as
+she searched for suitable selections.</p>
+
+<p>After a rather long pause she read aloud, a little pompously and with
+careful elocution:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;<i>Doing fairly well in dictation, and becoming more accurate; in Latin
+moderate, scarcely up to the level of the form. &#8230;</i>&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it in blank verse?&#8221; asked Bertha.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>&#8220;Oh no! &#8230; Of course he&#8217;s in a very high form for his age.&#8221; She then
+went on, after a longer pause: &#8220;&#8216;<i>Music and dancing: music, rather weak
+&#8230; dancing, a steady worker.</i>&#8217; That&#8217;s very good, isn&#8217;t it? &#8230;
+&#8216;<i>Map-drawing: very slovenly.</i>&#8217;&#8221; (She read this rather proudly.)
+&#8220;&#8216;<i>Conduct: lethargic and unsteady; but a fair speller.</i>&#8217; Excellent,
+isn&#8217;t it? Of course they&#8217;re frightfully severe at that school. &#8230; Oh
+yes, and there&#8217;s &#8216;<i>Bible good, but deficient in general knowledge. Has a
+little ability, but rarely uses it. &#8230;</i>&#8217; It&#8217;s dreadfully difficult to
+please them, really! But I think it&#8217;s very satisfactory, don&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Realising that Lady Kellynch had only read aloud the very best and most
+brilliant extracts that she could find in the report&#8212;purple patches, as
+one may say&#8212;Bertha gathered that it could hardly have been worse. So
+she congratulated the mother warmly and cordially, and said how fond she
+was of Clifford.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He will be home soon for the Easter holidays. You must let him come and
+stay with us.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s very kind of you, dear. Certainly he shall come, part of the time.
+I can&#8217;t bear to part with him&#8212;especially at first. Yes&#8212;at first I feel
+I never want him to leave me again! However, he enjoys himself so much
+here that I like to send him to you towards the end. He looks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> upon
+Bertha quite like a playmate,&#8221; she said to Madeline. Something about
+Madeline reminded her of someone she had met.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was at a dinner-party last night where I met a young man I saw here
+once, who took you in to dinner. He knows Percy&#8212;he was at Balliol with
+Percy&#8212;a Mr. Denison&#8212;Mr. Rupert Denison. He seemed inclined to be
+rather intellectual. He talked to me a great deal about something&#8212;I
+forget what; but I know it was some subject: something that Percy once
+had to pass an examination in. &#8230; I can&#8217;t remember what it was. I used
+to know his mother; Mrs. Denison&#8212;a charming woman! I&#8217;m afraid though
+she didn&#8217;t leave him very well off. I wonder how he manages to make two
+ends meet?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He manages all right; he makes them lap over, I should think. Who did
+he take to dinner?&#8221; Bertha asked this in Madeline&#8217;s interest.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, a girl I don&#8217;t like at all, whom I often see about. She&#8217;s always
+everywhere. I daresay you know her, a Miss Chivvey, a Miss Moona
+Chivvey&#8212;a good family, the Chivveys of Warwickshire. But she&#8217;s rather
+artistic-looking.&#8221; (Lady Kellynch lowered her voice as if she were
+saying something improper:) &#8220;She has untidy hair and green beads round
+her neck. I don&#8217;t like her&#8212;I don&#8217;t like her style at all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>&#8220;I&#8217;ve heard him mention her,&#8221; said Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He talked to her a good deal in the evening, and he gave me the
+impression that he was giving her some sort of lesson&#8212;a lecture on
+architecture, or something. Well, dear, as Percy won&#8217;t be in yet, I
+think I&#8217;d better go. I have a round of visits to pay.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy is going to write to you. He wants you to go to a concert with
+him. He particularly wants you to go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch brightened up. &#8220;Dear boy, does he? Of course I&#8217;ll go.
+Well, good-bye, darling.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She swept from the room with the queenly grace and dignity that always
+seemed a little out of proportion to the occasion&#8212;one expected her to
+make a court curtsy, and go out backwards.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My mother-in-law really believes it matters whether she calls on people
+or not,&#8221; said Bertha, in her low, even voice. &#8220;Isn&#8217;t it touching?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Madeline seized her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bertha, need I be frightened of Moona Chivvey? She&#8217;s a dangerous sort
+of girl; she takes interest in all the things Rupert does: pictures, and
+poetry and art needlework.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Does Rupert really do art needlework? What a universal genius he is!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be absurd! I mean the things he understands. And she runs after
+him, rather. Need I be afraid?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, you need not,&#8221; reassured Bertha. &#8220;I don&#8217;t think she sounds at all
+violent. There&#8217;s a ring.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Almost immediately afterwards the servant announced &#8220;Mr. Nigel Hillier.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel Hillier came in cheerily and gaily, brimming over with vitality
+and in the highest spirits. At present he was like sunshine and fresh
+air. There was a lurking danger that as he grew older he might become
+breezy. But as yet there was no sign of a draught. He was just
+delightfully exhilarating. He was not what women call handsome or
+divine, but he was rather what men call a smart-looking chap: fair, with
+bright blue eyes, and the most mischievous smile in London. He was
+unusually rapid in thought, speech and movement, without being restless,
+and his presence was an excellent cure for slackness, languor,
+strenuousness or a morbid sense of duty.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You look as if you had only just got up,&#8221; remarked Bertha, as she gave
+him her hand. &#8220;Not a bit as though you&#8217;d been through the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> fatigues and
+worries and the heat and burden of the day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that&#8217;s too bad!&#8221; he answered. &#8220;You know perfectly well I always get
+up in time to see the glorious sunset! Why this reproach? I don&#8217;t know
+that I&#8217;ve ever seen you very early in the day; I always regard you less
+as a daughter of the morning than as a minion of the moon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How is Mrs. Hillier?&#8221; replied Bertha rather coldly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right&#8212;I promise I won&#8217;t. Mary? Why Mary is well&#8212;very well&#8212;but
+just, perhaps, a teeny bit trying&#8212;just a shade wearing. No&#8212;no, I don&#8217;t
+mean that. &#8230; Well, I&#8217;m at your service for the play and so on. Shall I
+write to Rupert Denison and Miss Irwin? And will you all come and dine
+with me, and where shall we go?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think something thrilling and exciting and emotional&#8212;or,
+perhaps, something light and frivolous?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For Rupert I advise certainly the trivial, the flippant. It would have
+a better effect. Why not go to the new Revue&#8212;&#8216;<i>That will be
+Fourpence</i>&#8217;&#8212;where they have the two young Simultaneous Dancers, the
+Misses Zanie and Lunie Le Face&#8212;one, I fancy, is more simultaneous than
+the other, I forget which. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> are delightful, and will wake Denison
+up. In fact, I don&#8217;t know who they <i>wouldn&#8217;t</i> wake up, they make such a
+row. They dance and sing, about Dixie and Honey and coons&#8212;and that sort
+of thing. They sing quite well, too&#8212;I mean for them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But not for us? &#8230; No, I don&#8217;t want to take him with Madeline to
+anything that could be called a music-hall&#8212;something more correct for a
+<i>jeune fille</i> would be better. &#8230;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;To lead to a proposal, you mean. Well, we&#8217;d better fall back upon His
+Majesty&#8217;s or Granville Barker. Poor Charlie! It&#8217;s hard lines on that
+boy, Bertha&#8212;he&#8217;s really keen on Miss Irwin.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know; but what can we do? It&#8217;s Rupert Denison she cares about.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Likes him, does she?&#8221; said Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very much,&#8221; answered Bertha, who rarely used a strong expression, but
+whose eyes made the words emphatic.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel whistled. &#8220;Oh, well, if it&#8217;s as bad as that!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is. Quite.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Fancy! Lucky chap, old Rupert. Well, we must rush it through for them,
+I suppose. About the play&#8212;you want something serious, what price
+Shakespeare?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No price. Let&#8217;s go to the Russian Ballet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>&#8220;Capital!&#8221; cried Nigel, moving quickly to the telephone in case she
+should change her mind; &#8220;and we&#8217;ll dine at the Carlton first. May I use
+your telephone?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Please!&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span><a name="III" id="III"></a>CHAPTER III
+<br />
+<br />NIGEL</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">THE relation between Bertha and Nigel Hillier was a rather curious one.
+He had met her when she was eighteen. The attraction had been sudden,
+violent and mutual; and she was quite prepared to marry him against all
+opposition. There had been a good deal in her own family, because Nigel
+was what is euphemistically called without means, and she was the
+daughter of a fashionable London vicar who, though distinguished for his
+eloquence and extremely popular, successful and social, had a
+comparatively small income and a positively large family. In a short
+time Nigel&#8212;not Bertha&#8212;succumbed to the family opposition and the
+general prudent disapproval of worldly friends. He wrote and told Bertha
+that he was afraid after all they were right; persuaded to this view by
+having meanwhile met the only daughter of a millionaire when staying for
+a week-end at a country house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> The girl had fallen in love with him,
+and was practically independent.</p>
+
+<p>A few months after his gorgeous wedding, described and photographed with
+the greatest enthusiasm in all the illustrated papers, Bertha married
+Percy Kellynch, to the great satisfaction of her relations. Nigel was,
+by then, a lost illusion, a disappointed ideal; she did not long resent
+his defection and it cured her passion, but she despised him for what
+she regarded as the baseness of his motive.</p>
+
+<p>She loved and looked up to Percy, but her marriage to him had not been
+at the time one of romance&#8212;to her great regret. She would have liked it
+to be, for she was one of those ardent souls to whom the glamour of love
+was everything; she could never worship false gods. But Bertha had a
+warm, grateful nature, and finding him even better than she expected,
+her affection threw out roots and tendrils; became deeper and deeper;
+her experience with Nigel had made her particularly appreciative of
+Percy&#8217;s good qualities. She was expansive, affectionate and constant;
+and she really cared far more about Percy now than she did when she
+married him. And this, though she was quite aware that he was entirely
+wanting in several things that she had particularly valued in Nigel (a
+sense of humour for one), and that he had inherited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> rather acutely the
+depressing Kellynch characteristic of taking oneself seriously.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Percy, on the other hand, had been quite carried away by her rosebud
+charm and prettiness, and he had continued to regard her as a pet and a
+luxury (for he was pre-eminently one of that large class of people who
+see only the obvious). But he had never realised her complexities, and
+was quite unaware of her depth and strength of mind. He was proud of her
+popularity, and had never known a jealous moment. Since they had never
+had a shadow of a quarrel, theirs might certainly be described as a
+happy marriage; although Bertha had always found it from the first
+rather deficient in the elements of excitement and a little wanting in
+fun.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Nigel, who had been in a frightful hole when he met the heiress, of
+course made a point of discovering, as soon as all grinding money
+troubles had been removed and agonising debts paid, that no material
+things were capable of making him happy. The gratification to his vanity
+of his big country house, and charming house in London and so forth,
+amused him for a very short time. He became horribly bored, and when
+Bertha married<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> Percy Kellynch, felt pained and particularly surprised
+and disappointed in her. He had always believed her to be so superior to
+other girls, so true and loyal! It was quite a disillusion; to think
+that she could get over <i>him</i> so easily! Women usually took much longer
+than that. However, he now despised himself even more as a fool than as
+a coward for having given up Bertha, and not being of the type who
+trouble to conceal their feelings in domestic life, he openly and
+frankly showed to the unfortunate Mary that he knew he had made an
+irrevocable mistake. This was the natural way of regaining his
+self-respect, since he was under the deepest obligation to her. To add
+to his annoyance, not long after the marriage he and his brother Charlie
+came into a legacy from an unexpected and forgotten relative. He knew,
+then, that if he had waited a little longer, (as she had wished), he
+could, without sacrifice, have married Bertha; and so he was naturally
+very angry with Mary.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Now that Bertha was beyond his reach she seemed to him the one desirable
+thing in the world. For several years they hardly met; then Nigel
+contrived that they should become friends again. Her feeling for him
+could never be revived. His was far more vivid than formerly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> It was
+fanned by her coolness, and was in a fair way to become an <i>id&#233;e fixe</i>,
+for he was not material enough to live without some dream, some ideal,
+and Bertha found him amusing. There always had been a certain mental
+sympathy between them; in a sense (superficially and humorously), they
+saw life very much from the same standpoint. With the instinctive tact
+of the real lover of women he carefully concealed from her the secret
+that made his home life miserable, instead of merely tedious. It was,
+simply, that Mary was morbidly, madly jealous of him. He had shown far
+too soon that he had married her for her money, and if he had convinced
+her that she had bought him, it was perhaps natural in return that she
+should wish for her money&#8217;s worth. The poor woman was passionately in
+love with Nigel. She suspected him of infidelity, with and without
+reason, morning, noon, and night; it was almost a monomania. They had
+two children in the first and second years of the marriage. Nigel was
+carelessly fond of them, but he regarded them rather as a private luxury
+and resource of his wife, mistakenly thinking their society could fill
+up all the gaps made by his rather frequent absences. Nigel knew better
+than to complain of his wife, or to ask for sympathy from Bertha, for he
+was certain that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> if she had the faintest idea of the jealousy, her door
+would be closed to him.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Bertha was peculiarly kind, peculiarly full of sympathy for her own sex.
+And yet she was not at all fond of the society of women, with few
+exceptions; and she was often bored by the liking and admiration she
+usually inspired in them. Something in her personality disarmed ordinary
+jealousy, for though she was pretty and attractive, it was easy for
+other women to see that she was not trying to attract. What the average
+woman resents in another woman is not her involuntary charm; it is her
+making use of it.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>With the casual indiscretion of the selfish man, Nigel, of course, told
+his wife at length, early in the honeymoon, all about his romance with
+Bertha. This Mary had never forgiven. Curiously, she minded more this
+old innocent affair of ten years ago, which he had broken off for <i>her</i>,
+than any of his flirtations since. Bertha had rightly guessed that, when
+they met, Mary had taken a great dislike to her. But she had no idea
+that Nigel&#8217;s wife was suspicious, nor that she seriously and bitterly
+resented his visits. He never admitted them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> to Mary if he could help
+it, for he had learnt by now to be so far considerate to her&#8212;or to
+himself&#8212;that he would tell her fifty fibs in half-an-hour rather than
+let out one annoying fact. Nigel saw&#8212;he was very quick in these
+matters&#8212;that the only terms on which he could ever see anything of
+Bertha were those of the intimate old brotherly friend; the slightest
+look or suggestion of sentiment of any kind made her curl up and look
+angry. She made it utterly impossible for him to make the slightest
+allusion to the past. The friendliness had been growing to intimacy, and
+Nigel believed that perhaps with time he might get back to the old
+terms, or something like them. It was becoming the chief object of his
+life. He was a keen sportsman, and the ambition of the hunter was added
+to the longing of the lover. A born diplomatist, he had, of course,
+easily made Percy like him immensely. But he hated Percy, and could
+never forgive him for the unpardonable injury he had done to him, Nigel,
+in consoling Bertha. Nigel could not bear to own, even to himself, that
+Bertha was happy in her married life. Sometimes he would swear to
+himself when he remembered that it was all his own doing, that she might
+have been <i>his</i> wife. How coolly she had taken it! She had accepted it
+at the time with calm acquiescence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> and met him again with amiable
+composure. Had she ever really forgiven him?</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>It had opened her eyes, had been a shock. She saw him now as the
+shattered dream of her childish fancy, and she was thankful for her
+escape. Yet deep down in her heart was a slight scar. It did not make
+her hate Nigel, but apart from the fun and pleasantness of their
+intercourse her real indifference to him was slightly tinged with
+acidity: probably she would have been less sorry for him in any trouble
+than for anybody else.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Bertha&#8217;s vanity was not a very vivid part of her, and it took only one
+form. When she cared for anyone she was deeply (though not outwardly)
+exacting; she wanted that person entirely. To say that the general
+admiration she received gave her no pleasure would be an absurd
+exaggeration; if she had suddenly lost it, she would have missed it very
+much, no doubt. But after all, she valued it chiefly because she thought
+it was good for Percy. Privately she was not satisfied that Percy valued
+her enough. Had her many friends and acquaintances been told that the
+chief wish of the pretty Mrs. Kellynch was the more complete and
+absolute conquest of her own husband<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>&#8212;who seemed much more devoted than
+most husbands&#8212;they would have been surprised, incredulous, perhaps even
+a little shocked.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel had promised to use all the means at his disposal to help
+Madeline. Bertha was anxious her friend should have what she had just
+missed.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>&#8220;Well! Soon after the dinner I shall go and see Rupert in his rooms. I
+shall get to know him well, and I shall gradually tell him about
+Charlie, and how keen he is, and lead up to Miss Irwin, and say what a
+charming girl she is, and all that sort of thing. Nothing makes so much
+impression.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t make him jealous of Charlie,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;Anything that he
+regarded as a slight I think would put an end to it. Rupert is not quite
+a commonplace man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Jealous? Oh no, I should merely imply that Miss Madeline won&#8217;t have
+anything to say to Charlie, and that I wonder why. But it can&#8217;t do him
+any harm to know someone else wants her. My dear girl, a man understands
+another man. That is where women are such fools. They think they know
+more about men than men do, and that is why they are always being&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;
+He stopped.</p>
+
+<p>She smiled.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>&#8220;Oh no. I quite do you justice, Nigel. I am never above consulting you
+on that sort of subject. I may know just a little bit more about men
+than some women do, for one reason&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And what is that? Because you attract them?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, that doesn&#8217;t help much. It&#8217;s because I have brothers, and they have
+always confided in me without reserve. Oh! there was one more thing I
+<i>may</i> have to ask you. I don&#8217;t want to, and I don&#8217;t like it at all, on
+account of Mrs. Hillier; but still it might happen to be necessary. It&#8217;s
+<i>just</i> possible I may ask you to flirt a little with a girl called Moona
+Chivvey.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, <i>I</i> know her.&#8221; He smiled. &#8220;Of course I&#8217;d do anything for you, but
+<i>that</i> would be about the hardest thing you could command.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s not uninteresting,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;I shall find out how she stands
+with Rupert, and I don&#8217;t think there&#8217;s much danger. But if it should be
+required&#8212;well&#8212;you might go further and fare worse.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I expect I should go further than Rupert,&#8221; murmured Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nigel, <i>don&#8217;t</i> think I haven&#8217;t scruples about things. I have, very
+much, but I know a good deal about Moona, and I really think that any
+harmless thing we can do to remove obstacles for poor Madeline should be
+done. I promised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> Madeline. I shall be grateful if you&#8217;ll help, Nigel.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s no question about it,&#8221; said Nigel. &#8220;Of course it must be rushed
+through. And now I suppose you want me to go?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no! Please don&#8217;t! Percy will be here directly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He got up.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye. I&#8217;ll ring you up to-morrow. It&#8217;s some little consolation for
+being an idle man to have leisure to fulfil your commands.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She answered that he was very good and she was very pleased with him,
+and he went away.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>CHAPTER IV
+<br />
+<br />RUPERT AT RUMPELMEYER&#8217;S</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">AT a quarter to four precisely, in a heavy shower of rain, Madeline
+sprang out of a taxicab in St. James&#8217;s Street, and tripped into
+Rumpelmeyer&#8217;s. As it was pouring lavishly and she had no umbrella, she
+hastily and enthusiastically overpaid the cabman, with a feeling of
+superstition that it might bring her luck; besides, a few drops of rain,
+she reflected, would ruin her smart new hat if she waited for change. It
+was a very small hat, over her eyes, decorated with a very high feather,
+in the form of a lightning-conductor. She was charmingly dressed in a
+way that made her look very tall, slim and elegant. Her rather long,
+sweet face was paler than usual, her sincere brown eyes brighter. She
+had come to have tea with Rupert.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>From the back room, waiting for her, rose the worshipped hero. He was,
+as she had described him, very much like a Vandyke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> picture. He had
+broad shoulders, and a thin waist, a pointed brown beard, regular
+features, very large deep blue eyes, and an absurdly small mouth with
+dazzling white teeth. If he was almost too well dressed&#8212;so well that
+one turned round to look at his clothes&#8212;his distinguished manners and
+<i>grand seigneur</i> air carried it off. One saw it was not the
+over-dressing of the <i>nouveau riche</i>, but the rather old-world dandyism
+of a past generation. This was the odder as the year was 1913, and he
+was exactly thirty. He always wore a buttonhole&#8212;to-day it was made of
+violets to match his violet socks&#8212;and invariably carried a black ebony
+stick, with an ivory handle.</p>
+
+<p>With a quiet smile on his small mouth, he greeted and calmed the
+agitated Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>She dropped her bag on the floor before she sat down, and when Rupert
+picked it up for her she dropped it again on a plate of cream cakes. He
+then took it and moved it to his side of the table.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I thought,&#8221; he said smoothly, in a rather low, soothing voice, &#8220;that
+you&#8217;d like these cakes better than toast.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She eagerly assured him that he was right, though it happened to be
+quite untrue.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And China tea, of <i>course</i>?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, of <i>course</i>!&#8221; She disliked it particularly.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>&#8220;And now, tell me, how has life been treating you?&#8221; he asked, as he
+looked first at her, and then with more eager interest at his pointed
+polished finger-nails.</p>
+
+<p>Before she could answer, he went on:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And that book on architecture that I sent you&#8212;tell me, have you read
+it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Every word.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This was perfectly true; she could have passed an examination in it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s delightful. Then, now that you know something about it, I should
+like very much to take you to Westminster Abbey or St. Paul&#8217;s, or to see
+one of those really beautiful old cathedrals. &#8230; We must plan it out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, please do. I revel in old things,&#8221; she said, thinking the remark
+would please him.</p>
+
+<p>He arranged his buttonhole of Parma violets, then looked up at her,
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean that at your age you really appreciate the past?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed, I do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you mustn&#8217;t live for it, you know&#8212;not over-value it. You must
+never forget that, after all, the great charm of the past is that it is
+over. One must live for the hour, for the moment. &#8230; You&#8217;ll remember
+that, won&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>&#8220;Oh yes, I <i>do</i>,&#8221; she said gratefully, taking a bite of cream cake.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What they call Futurism (I hope you understand) is absolute rubbish and
+inconsistent nonsense. For this reason. It&#8217;s impossible to enjoy the
+present or the future if you eliminate the past entirely, as the
+so-called Futurists wish to do. Destruction of old associations and
+treasures would ruin one&#8217;s sense of proportion; it&#8217;s worse than living
+in the prehistoric. Besides, at least we know what <i>has</i> happened, and
+what <i>is</i> happening, but we can&#8217;t possibly know what is <i>going</i> to be,
+what the future holds for us; so what&#8217;s the point of thinking only of
+that? Why should we live only for posterity, when, as the old joke says,
+posterity has done nothing for us!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, the truth is <i>I</i> always feel nothing matters except now,&#8221; said
+Madeline candidly.</p>
+
+<p>He laughed. &#8220;And, in a way, you&#8217;re right; it&#8217;s all we&#8217;re quite sure of.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I&#8217;m afraid it is.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;By the way,&#8221; he said, dropping his instructive manner, &#8220;can you tell me
+where you get your hats? Do you mind?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, of course I can; at several places. This one came from&#8212;&#8212;&#8221; She
+hesitated a moment.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>&#8220;Paquin?&#8221; he asked, in a low, mysterious voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Selfridge,&#8221; she replied.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I didn&#8217;t know you were a Selfridgette! But, please forgive my
+asking, won&#8217;t you? Someone who didn&#8217;t seem to know &#8230; I mean, a friend
+of mine. &#8230; Oh, well, I know you don&#8217;t mind telling me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He looked hard at her hat, could find no fault with it. Evidently its
+value was not diminished in his eyes. He was rather gratified that it
+did not come from some impossibly costly place. This pleased her; it was
+a good sign. Satisfaction at a moderate indication of economy suggested
+serious intentions.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It suits you very well,&#8221; he went on, in his kind, approving way. &#8220;Now,
+will you give me another cup of tea?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She poured it out rather shakily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No sugar, please.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh!&#8221; She had already nervously dropped in about three lumps.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh well, never mind. &#8230; Yes, you&#8217;re looking charming, Madeline&#8212;it&#8217;s
+absurd calling you Miss Irwin after knowing each other so long, isn&#8217;t
+it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was so delighted that she almost thanked him for calling her by her
+Christian name.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>&#8220;Do you know, Madeline,&#8221; he went on, &#8220;that, at times, you&#8217;re almost a
+beauty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She opened her mouth with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>Almost.</i> You were one evening&#8212;I forget which evening&#8212;you had
+something gold in your hair, and you were quite Byzantine. And then,
+again, a few days after I saw you, and&#8212;er&#8212;oh well, anyhow&#8212;you always
+look nice.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you mean,&#8221; she murmured, feeling shy at talking so much of
+herself, &#8220;that most girls look best in the evening.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There I venture to differ from you entirely. All girls, all women, look
+their best in the afternoon. The hat is everything. Evening dress is the
+most trying and unbecoming thing in the world; only the most perfect
+beauties, who are also very young and fresh, can stand it. The most
+becoming thing for a woman is either <i>n&#233;glig&#233;</i>, or a hat. You,
+particularly, Madeline, look your best in the afternoon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish then that I lived in that land where it is always afternoon!&#8221;
+she said, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>He gave his superior little smile. &#8220;The Lotus Eaters? Good. I didn&#8217;t
+know you cared for Tennyson.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t,&#8221; she answered hastily, anxious to please.</p>
+
+<p>He raised his eyebrows. &#8220;Then you should. Have you a favourite poet,
+Madeline?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>&#8220;Oh yes, of course&#8212;Swinburne.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She thought this a perfectly safe thing to say.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Strong meat for babes,&#8221; he of course replied, and then began to murmur
+to himself: &#8220;<i>For a day and a night love sang to us, played with us.</i>
+You think that beautiful, Madeline?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes. How beautifully you say it!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He laughed. &#8220;Quoting poetry at Rumpelmeyer&#8217;s! Well, perhaps no place is
+quite prosaic where &#8230;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She looked up.</p>
+
+<p>He took another tea-cake.</p>
+
+<p>&#8230; &#8220;Where there&#8217;s anyone so interested, so intelligent as yourself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He had returned to the indulgent, encouraging schoolmaster&#8217;s tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you know In the Orchard?&#8221; he went on, and murmured: &#8220;<i>Ah God, ah
+God! that day should be so soon!</i> Well! May I smoke a cigarette?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, of <i>course</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh &#8230; Madeline!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Mr. Denison?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who is Nigel Hillier?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, don&#8217;t you know him?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course I know him; we belong to the same club, and that sort of
+thing, but that doesn&#8217;t tell me who he is.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>She was wondering what Rupert meant exactly by who, but supposed he was
+speaking socially, so she said hesitatingly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, Nigel Hillier &#8230; he married that Miss&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He interrupted her, putting up his hand rather like a policeman in the
+traffic. &#8220;I know all about his marriage, my dear friend. I didn&#8217;t ask
+you whom he married. Who <i>is</i> he?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bertha and Percy have known him all their lives&#8212;at least all Bertha&#8217;s
+life.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes. Then he&#8217;s a friend of Percy Kellynch? But that doesn&#8217;t tell me
+what I want to know. WHO is he?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>With a flash of inspiration she said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes! Oh, he&#8217;s a <i>nephew</i> of Lord Wantage. He has no father and
+mother, I believe. He and his brother Charlie&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah yes, yes. It comes back to me now&#8212;I remember which Hilliers they
+are. Well, Hillier has asked me to dine with him and go to the Russian
+Ballet. Rather nice of him. I&#8217;m going, and&#8212;do you know why I accepted,
+Madeline?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You like the Russian Ballet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was told that Mrs. Kellynch and <i>you</i> were to be of the party.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m glad you&#8217;re going,&#8221; she answered. &#8220;Bertha&#8217;s so awfully kind&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;
+She stopped suddenly, as if she had made a <i>gaffe</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>He smiled. &#8220;Really? And what has Bertha&#8217;s kindness to do with it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, nothing. I mean she always takes me out wherever she can; she&#8217;s so
+good-natured.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She strikes me as being a very beautiful and brilliant person,&#8221; said
+Rupert coldly. &#8220;Very wonderful&#8212;very delightful. &#8230; It appears that
+Mrs. Hillier has influenza.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes,&#8221; said Madeline quickly&#8212;too quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You knew it? No; you thought that she probably <i>would</i> have,&#8221; said he,
+laughing, as he struck a match. Then he leant back, smoking, with that
+slow, subtle smile about nothing in particular that had a peculiar,
+hypnotic effect upon Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>She adored him more and more every moment. She knew she was never at her
+best in his company; he made her nervous, shy, and schoolgirlish, and so
+modest that she seemed to be longing to ooze away, to eliminate herself
+altogether. Then he said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, Madeline, it wouldn&#8217;t be nice if I kept you too long away from
+your mother&#8212;she won&#8217;t trust me with you again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She jumped up.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have I been too long?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, child,&#8221; he said. &#8220;But still&#8212;&#8212;&#8221; With one look at the clock
+he rather hurriedly gave her her belongings.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>&#8220;I&#8217;m going to put you into a nice taxi, and send you home. We shall meet
+at Hillier&#8217;s dinner, that will be nice, and we shall see the wonderful
+ballet together.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She murmured that it would be lovely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should like to drive you home,&#8221; he said rather half-heartedly, as
+they stood at the door in the rain; &#8220;in fact, I should insist upon doing
+so &#8230;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8230; &#8220;But I have an appointment with a friend I&#8217;m expecting to call for
+me here. Au revoir, then!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She went away happy, disturbed, anxious and delighted, as she always was
+when she had seen him. She ran straight to her dressing-table, took off
+her hat, put something gold in her hair and tried to look Byzantine.</p>
+
+<p>He returned to the little table. He had it cleared, and ordered fresh
+tea and cakes. Then he took out his watch.</p>
+
+<p>In about twenty minutes, during which he grew rather nervous and
+impatient, he rose and went to the door again to greet another guest,
+who had been invited to tea an hour and a half later than Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>She also was a young girl, good-looking, very dark and rather inclined
+to fullness in face and figure. When I say that she had handsome<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+regular aquiline features, two thick curtains of black hair drawn over
+her ears, from which depended long ear-rings of imitation coral, it
+seems almost unnecessary to add (for this type of girl always dresses in
+the same way) that she wore a flat violet felt hat, the back of which
+touched her shoulders, a particularly tight dark blue serge coat and
+skirt, a very low collar, and lisle thread stockings which showed above
+low shiny shoes with white spats. In her hands she held a pair of new
+white gloves, unworn.</p>
+
+<p>She bounced in with a good deal of <i>aplomb</i>, and, without apologising
+for her lateness, began to chatter a little louder than most of the
+people present, and with great confidence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, not China tea, thanks. I prefer Indian. Oh, not cream cakes; I hate
+them. Can&#8217;t I have hot tea-cakes? Thanks. I&#8217;ve no idea what the time is.
+I&#8217;ve been to Mimsie&#8217;s studio. She would insist on doing a drawing of me,
+and I&#8217;m sitting to her&#8221;&#8212;she turned her face a little on one side&#8212;&#8220;like
+this, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it like you, Miss Chivvey?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good gracious, I hope not! At least I hope I&#8217;m not like <i>it</i>! I
+don&#8217;t want to have a pretty picture, I&#8217;m sure. But Mimsie&#8217;s awfully
+clever. It&#8217;s sure to be all right. Do you know her? I must take you to
+her studio one day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>&#8220;Thanks immensely,&#8221; said Rupert Denison, a little coolly. &#8220;But&#8212;it may
+seem odd to you, but I haven&#8217;t the slightest desire to increase my
+acquaintance at my age. In fact, do you know, I think I know quite
+enough people&#8212;in every set,&#8221; he added.</p>
+
+<p>As he poured out some milk, she jumped and gave a little shriek.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, <i>don&#8217;t</i> do that. I never take milk. What a bad memory you&#8217;ve got!
+Funny place this, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; She was looking round. &#8220;I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ve
+ever been here before.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you like the plan of it?&#8221; he said, looking round at the walls and
+ceiling. &#8220;It may not be perfect, but really, for London, it isn&#8217;t bad.
+It seems to me that anyone can see that it was designed by a gentleman.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You mean anyone can see it&#8217;s not designed by an architect?&#8221; she asked,
+with a laugh so loud that he raised a finger.</p>
+
+<p>He then carefully introduced the subject of hats and advised her to go,
+for millinery, to Selfridge. They discussed it at length, and it was
+settled by his offering her a hat as a birthday present. She accepted,
+of course, with a loud laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Rupert, with his mania for educating and improving young people, had
+begun, about a fortnight ago, trying to polish Miss Chivvey.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> But he had
+his doubts as to its being possible; and he was, all the same, beginning
+to be a little carried away. She was sometimes (he owned) amusing; and
+it was unusual for him to be laughed at. How differently Madeline
+regarded him!</p>
+
+<p>However, he drove Moona home to Camden Hill and promised to meet her and
+help her to choose a hat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t let you interfere too much. What do men know of
+millinery?&#8221; she asked contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am sure I know what would suit you,&#8221; he replied. &#8220;You see, you&#8217;re
+very vivid, and very much alive; you stand out, so you really want, if I
+may say so, attenuating, subduing, shading.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps you would like me to put my head in a bag?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No one would regret that more than I should.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I foresee we&#8217;re going to quarrel about this hat,&#8221; she answered. &#8220;Now,
+Mr. Denison, do let me explain to you, I don&#8217;t want anything <i>smart</i>. I
+don&#8217;t want to look like <i>Paris Fashions</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No? What do you want to look like?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, artistic, of course! What a blighter you are!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>Rupert winced at this vague accusation. They were nearly at her house
+and he put his hand on hers in a way that was rather controlling than
+caressing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Let me have one little pleasure. Let me choose your hat myself,&#8221; he
+said. He was terrified at the idea of what she might come out in on
+artistic grounds. Then she would tell all her friends it was a present
+from him! She had no sort of reticence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I suppose you must have your own way. Do you really know anything
+about it?&#8221; she asked doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rather. Everything!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They arrived. She jumped out.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;ll ring you up and tell you when I can go there and meet you.
+Good-bye! You <i>are</i> a nut!&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span><a name="V" id="V"></a>CHAPTER V
+<br />
+<br />A HAPPY HOME</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">THE first six months after his marriage it used to give Nigel a thrill
+of gratification and vanity to go home to his house, one of the finest
+in Grosvenor Street, and splendidly kept up. Then he had suddenly grown
+horribly sick of it, longed for freedom in a garret, and now he
+associated it with no thrill of pride or pleasure, but with boredom,
+depression, quarrels and lack of liberty. Liberty! Ah! That was it; that
+was what he felt more than anything else. He had married for money
+chiefly to <i>get</i> liberty. One was a slave, always in debt&#8212;but it was
+much worse now. The master of the house lost all his vitality, gaiety
+and air of command the moment he came into the hall.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where&#8217;s Mrs. Hillier?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Hillier is in the boudoir, sir.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The boudoir was a little pink and blue Louis Seize room on the ground
+floor, opposite the dining-room. From the window Mary could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> watch for
+Nigel. That was what she always did. She hardly ever did anything else.
+Few women were so independent of such aids to idleness as light
+literature (how heavy it generally is!), newspapers, needlework or a
+piano. Few people indeed had such a concentrated interest in one
+subject. She was sitting in an arm-chair, with folded hands, looking out
+of the window. It was a point of vantage, whence she could see Nigel
+arrive more quickly than from anywhere else.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he caught the first glimpse of her at the window it began to
+get on his nerves. It was maddening to be waited for. &#8230;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re five minutes late,&#8221; she said abruptly, as he came in. She always
+spoke abruptly, even when she wanted to be most amiable. He was
+determined not to be bad-tempered, and smiled good-naturedly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Am I? So sorry.&#8221; He was very quick and rapid in every word and
+movement, but soft and suave&#8212;never blunt, as she was.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where have you been?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I went to look at those pictures in Bond Street,&#8221; he replied, without a
+moment&#8217;s hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>He had come straight from seeing Bertha&#8212;on the subject of Madeline and
+Rupert&#8212;but he never thought of telling her that.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>&#8220;Oh! Why didn&#8217;t you take <i>me</i>?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I really don&#8217;t know. I didn&#8217;t think of it, I suppose. We&#8217;ll go another
+day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He sat down opposite her and began to smoke a cigarette, having
+permission always. She sat staring at him with clasped hands and eager
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha&#8217;s description of her as having flat red hair, a receding chin and
+long ear-rings was impressionistically accurate. It was what one noticed
+most. Mrs. Hillier was plain, and not at all pleasant-looking, though
+she had a pretty figure, looked young, and might have been made
+something of if she had had charm. There was something eager, sharp and
+yet depressed about her, that might well be irritating.</p>
+
+<p>She got up and came and stood next to Nigel; playing with his tie, a
+little trick which nearly drove him mad, but he was determined to hide
+it. When he couldn&#8217;t bear it any longer he said: &#8220;That will do, dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She moved away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How do you mean &#8216;that will do&#8217;?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing; only don&#8217;t fidget.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re nervous, Nigel. You are always telling me not to fidget.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Am I? Sorry. Where are the children?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never mind the children for a minute. They&#8217;re out with Mademoiselle.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>&#8220;Seen much of them to-day?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They came in to lunch. No, I have <i>not</i>, as a matter of fact. Do you
+expect me to spend my whole time with children of eight and nine?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He didn&#8217;t answer, but it was exactly what he really did expect, and
+would have thought perfectly natural and suitable.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Some women,&#8221; continued Mary, &#8220;seem to care a great deal more for their
+children than they do for their husbands. I&#8217;m <i>not</i> like that&#8212;I don&#8217;t
+pretend to be.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel already knew this, to his great regret.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I care more for you than I do for the children,&#8221; she repeated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean by &#8216;Yes&#8217;?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was assenting: that&#8217;s all. I meant&#8212;that you&#8217;ve told me all this
+before, my dear. Haven&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you object? Do you <i>mind</i> my caring more for you than for the
+children?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If I object to anything it&#8217;s only to your repeating yourself. I
+mean&#8212;we&#8217;ve had all this; haven&#8217;t we?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nigel, are you trying to quarrel with me for loving you better than the
+children?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel turned pale with irritation but controlled himself and stood up
+and looked out of the window.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>&#8220;Not in the least. It&#8217;s most flattering. I only don&#8217;t want to be told it
+every time I see you. &#8230; I mean that of course I should think it
+perfectly natural if you were fond of the children too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I <i>am</i> fond of them,&#8221; she answered, &#8220;but they are not everything to me.
+They don&#8217;t fill up my whole time and all my thoughts. They won&#8217;t do
+instead of you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No one suggested that, I think. Have you been for a drive to-day?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No&#8212;I haven&#8217;t.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a funny woman you are, Mary! You might as well not have a motor
+for all the use you make of it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I had nowhere to go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He looked at some invitation cards on the mantelpiece. &#8220;Oh, my dear,
+that&#8217;s absolute nonsense. You mean you don&#8217;t care to go anywhere. It
+<i>is</i> extraordinary, how you drop people, Mary! When we first came to
+this house we had a lot of parties and things. Now you never seem to
+care for them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s quite true,&#8221; she answered. &#8220;We did have parties and things. They
+made me miserable. I hated them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rather odd; aren&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hated them and loathed them,&#8221; she continued. &#8220;For it only meant there
+were crowds of women who tried to flirt with you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>&#8220;That&#8217;s an <i>id&#233;e fixe</i> of yours, my dear. Pure fancy, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well; all I know is I hated to see you talking to the women who came
+here. I tell you, quite frankly, <i>that&#8217;s</i> the reason why I&#8217;ve given up
+accepting invitations and giving them. Of course, if you <i>insist</i>, I
+will. I would do anything you told me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good God, no! Let&#8217;s cut out the parties, then. Don&#8217;t have them for
+<i>me</i>! I thought it would be fun for you. &#8230; What <i>do</i> you do all day,
+Mary, if I may ask? You never seem to have any shopping&#8212;or hobbies&#8212;or
+anything that other women have to do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do the housekeeping in the morning,&#8221; she said; &#8220;I see cook and look
+after everything to make things as <i>you</i> like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I&#8217;m sure you do it very well indeed. But it doesn&#8217;t take long; and
+after that&#8212;&#8212;?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I sit in that chair looking out of the window for you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He bit his lip impatiently, trying not to be irritable.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s very nice of you, Mary, I&#8217;m sure. But I do wish you wouldn&#8217;t!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why not? Don&#8217;t you <i>like</i> me to be waiting for you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No&#8212;I don&#8217;t. I should like to think you were enjoying yourself; having
+a good time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>&#8220;Well, I shouldn&#8217;t do it if you took me out with you always.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear, I&#8217;m always delighted to take you with me, but I can&#8217;t take you
+everywhere.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where can&#8217;t you take me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well&#8212;to the club!&#8221; He smiled, and took up a newspaper.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you must go to your club sometimes,&#8221; she said rather
+grudgingly. &#8220;But tell me, Nigel, would you like us to go in more for
+society again as we used at first?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He thought a moment. There were more quarrels when they saw more
+people&#8212;in fact, the fewer people they met the fewer subjects arose for
+scenes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; he said, &#8220;suppose you give just one party this year. Just to
+&#8216;keep our circle together,&#8217; as they say&#8212;then we can stop it again, if
+you like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What sort of party?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Any sort. Musical, if you like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! that means having horrid singers and players, and performers! I
+don&#8217;t like that set, Nigel.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right. Let&#8217;s give a dance. We&#8217;ve got a splendid floor.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A <i>dance</i>? Oh no. I don&#8217;t dance; and I couldn&#8217;t bear to see you dancing
+with anyone.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>&#8220;This is all very flattering, my dear, but you know you&#8217;re really rather
+absurd. Girls wouldn&#8217;t be fighting to dance with an old married man like
+me. Altogether,&#8212;the way you regard me,&#8212;the way you imagine I&#8217;m the
+marked-down prey of every woman you know,&#8212;would be too comical if it
+wasn&#8217;t so pathetic.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, really? So you say! You&#8217;re thirty-five;&#8212;you&#8217;re better-looking than
+ever.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thanks. It&#8217;s very kind of you to think so.&#8221; He laughed rather
+contemptuously. &#8220;What a fatuous idiot I should be if I believed you.
+But&#8212;to go back to what we were talking about&#8212;it really is in a way
+rather a pity you&#8217;re gradually dropping everybody like that. It seems to
+me that one should either have a cosy, clever, interesting little set of
+amusing and really intimate <i>friends</i>; or else, a large circle of
+acquaintances; or both. I&#8217;m not speaking of parties, for me. No man of
+course cares about all that sort of rot; it&#8217;s only for you; women like
+going out as a rule.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I didn&#8217;t care much about the sort of society you introduced me to when
+we first married. I didn&#8217;t like any of them much.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the matter with them?&#8221; he asked. He knew she had always felt
+morbidly and bitterly out of it because she mistakenly believed that
+everybody was interested in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> fact that her grandfather had made a
+fortune in treacle, and that her husband was Lord Wantage&#8217;s nephew. As a
+matter of fact, no one who came to the house cared in the slightest
+degree about either of these circumstances (even if they knew them) but
+merely wished candidly to enjoy themselves in a large, jolly, hospitable
+house, owned by a very attractive man with a large number of amusing
+friends and, apparently, a harmless and good-natured little wife. Mary
+detested and soon put a stop to intimate or Bohemian friends who sat up
+all night smoking, talking art or literature, or being musical; and she
+managed rapidly to reduce their circle to a much smaller one at a much
+greater distance. She had not a single intimate friend. With women she
+only exchanged cards. &#8220;What&#8217;s wrong with them all?&#8221; Nigel repeated, for
+he was beginning to lose patience.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! their manners are all right. If you really want to know what I
+think of the whole set&#8212;I mean that sort of half-clever, half-smart set
+you were in&#8212;the barristers and writers, artists, sporting and gambling
+men, and women mad on music and the theatre&#8212;well, it is that the men
+are silly and frivolous, and the women horrid and&#8212;and <i>fast</i>! Some are
+cold and just as hard as nails, others are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> positively <i>wicked</i>! I admit
+most of the men have nice manners and the women are not stupid. They all
+dress well.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel was silent a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, after all, if you don&#8217;t like them, why should you see them?&#8221; he
+said, good-naturedly enough. He did not feel inclined to defend all his
+acquaintances. &#8220;But may I ask, do you consider that this set, as you
+call it, lead a <i>useless</i> life?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; of course I do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Good. That&#8217;s all I wanted to know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I see what you mean quite well,&#8221; she said, walking up and down the
+room. &#8220;You think <i>I</i> lead a useless life&#8212;that I&#8217;m not accomplished or
+literary or even domestic, or social. You think I lead an empty life
+with all my money.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, why shouldn&#8217;t you, if you like it? But I wish you enjoyed it
+yourself more, that&#8217;s the point.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can never enjoy myself&#8212;if you want to know, Nigel&#8212;except when I&#8217;m
+with you; and even then I&#8217;m often not happy, because I think you don&#8217;t
+care to be with me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mary! really! How awful you are! What rot all this is! I can&#8217;t say
+more than that you can do whatever you like from morning to night, and
+that I don&#8217;t wish to interfere with you in any possible way.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>&#8220;But I should like you to be <i>with</i> me more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He restrained the obvious retort (that she didn&#8217;t make herself
+agreeable).</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I <i>am</i> with you.&#8221; He humoured her gently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes&#8212;at this moment.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Aren&#8217;t we going to dine together?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, we are. But about an hour afterwards I know you&#8217;ll find some sort
+of excuse either to go out, or to go into the library and read. Why
+can&#8217;t you read while I&#8217;m looking at you? Why not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be always looking forward, meeting troubles half way,&#8221; he said
+jokingly. &#8220;Perhaps I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t read.&#8221; Then, after a moment&#8217;s pause:
+&#8220;Excuse my saying so, my dear, but if <i>you</i> sometimes read a book, or
+the papers, or saw more people, you would have more to tell me when we
+did meet, wouldn&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It doesn&#8217;t matter about that. You can tell me what you&#8217;ve been reading
+or seeing. Who did you see at the picture gallery? Was Mrs. Kellynch
+there?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look here&#8221;&#8212;he was looking at the paper&#8212;&#8220;would you like to go to the
+opera after dinner? Let&#8217;s go one of these days soon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; I shouldn&#8217;t like it at all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He stared at her in surprise.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>&#8220;Why not, pray? I thought you enjoyed it the other night?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>You</i> enjoyed it,&#8221; she replied.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I thought you seemed rather pleased with yourself when we went out,
+with all your furs and tiaras and things. You looked very smart,&#8221; he
+said pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I tell you I hated it, Nigel.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And why?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mary was at least candid, and she spoke bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Because we met Mrs. Kellynch; and you talked to her and seemed pleased
+to see her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good heavens! I can hardly cut dead all the women I ever knew
+before we were married.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think her pretty?&#8221; said Mary.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, of course I do; and so does everyone. She is pretty. It&#8217;s a
+well-known fact. But what does it matter? It&#8217;s of no interest to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you sure it isn&#8217;t? Didn&#8217;t you tell me you were almost engaged
+once?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, <i>do</i> let&#8217;s drop the prehistoric,&#8221; he entreated, appearing bored.
+&#8220;Never mind about ancient history now. She&#8217;s married and seems very
+happy.&#8221; (He stopped himself in time from saying like us.) &#8220;Kellynch is a
+very good sort.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is he? Do you envy him?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>&#8220;Mary, really, don&#8217;t be absurd. Let me tell you that there&#8217;s not one man
+in a hundred who could stand &#8230;&#8221; and he moved a step farther away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Could stand what?&#8221; She came nearer to him. &#8220;My caring for you so much?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Half-a-minute passed in something near torture, as she played with his
+tie again, and he controlled himself and spoke with a determinedly kind
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Go along and dress for dinner,&#8221; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What shall I wear?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Your pretty yellow teagown,&#8221; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>She could not go out in that, he was reflecting, and if he suddenly
+wanted to go for a walk&#8212;&#8212;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Nigel. Oh, dear Nigel! I don&#8217;t mean to be disagreeable.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sure you don&#8217;t,&#8221; he answered, &#8220;let&#8217;s leave it at that, my dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right,&#8221; she said smiling, and went away, with a rather coquettish
+kiss of the hand to him.</p>
+
+<p>He opened the door and shut it after her, with gallant attention. Then
+he threw up his arms with a despairing gesture.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My God! What a woman! Why&#8212;why was I such a fool? &#8230; How much longer
+<i>can</i> I bear it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>The Hilliers&#8217; relatives and intimate friends often said cheerfully about
+them: &#8220;Mary is very fond of Nigel, but she rather gets on his nerves.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>No one seemed yet to have discovered that there was a large double
+tragedy in that simple, commonplace sentence.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>CHAPTER VI
+<br />
+<br />FUTURISM</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">IT had long been Nigel&#8217;s dream, since he had practically given up all
+hope of calm and peaceful happiness at home, to have, at least, a secret
+sorrow that everyone knew of and sympathised with. And certain people
+did feel for him, understanding the great worry of his wife&#8217;s morbid
+jealousy. But the general public thought him extremely fortunate to have
+married a woman&#8212;or rather a young girl&#8212;whose enormous wealth was only
+equalled by her extraordinary devotion. Yet from the one person who
+mattered, the look of tacit sympathy was denied him. How it would have
+soothed him and made him absolutely happy! And Bertha was the only human
+being who must never be allowed to know of his domestic troubles. She
+was extremely proud, and it would have caused her great anger and pain
+to think that after throwing her over (as he really had, for worldly
+advantages), he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> should then want to come back, complain ungratefully of
+the benefactress he had chosen and philander and amuse himself again. So
+he had never referred to his unhappy life. His plan was deeper than
+that. It was to appear merely the amusing friend, until by some chance,
+he should feel his way to be more secure; to be, in fact, a kind of tame
+cat, a <i>camarade</i>, useful, and intellectually sympathetic, unselfishly
+devoted&#8212;until, perhaps, the time might come when she might find she
+could not do without him. His calculations happened to be completely
+wrong, but that, of course, he could not know. Like all collectors,
+whether of women or of any other works of art or nature, although a
+connoisseur, he did not quite recognise the exceptional when he met
+it&#8212;his rules of life were too general. And his love for Bertha&#8212;what
+word can one use but the word-of-all-work, love, which means so many
+variations and shades, and complications of passion, sentiment, vanity
+and attraction?&#8212;his love had greatly increased, was growing stronger:
+sometimes he wondered whether it was the mere contradictory, defiant
+obstinacy of the discouraged admirer; and, certainly, there was in his
+devotion a strong infusion of a longing to score off his tyrannising
+wife and the fortunate, amiable Percy. Nigel&#8217;s jealousy of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> Percy&#8212;and
+not of Percy only, but in a less degree of most men Bertha knew&#8212;was not
+very far behind his wife&#8217;s jealousy of him. A morbid propensity that
+causes great suffering in domestic life is often curiously infectious to
+the very person for whom it creates most suffering. Nigel sometimes
+found himself positively imitating Mary in many little ways; watching,
+and listening and asking indirect questions to find things out: if he
+had dared he would have made Bertha a violent scene every time her
+husband came into the house! He tried to hide it and had made Percy like
+him. But Bertha could see perfectly well the tinge of jealousy for every
+other friend of hers, and an inclination to crab and run down and sit
+out, especially, any smart young man. This neither amused nor annoyed
+her. She did not think about it.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel really felt, besides, that most cruel of all remorse&#8212;<i>selfish</i>
+remorse, that he had cheated himself in having thrown over love for
+money. For his was not, after all, a mere smug, second-rate nature which
+gold, and what it meant, in however great quantities, could really ever
+satisfy. Putting aside the fact that his wife irritated him nearly to
+madness, even if he had been allowed to live alone, and perfectly
+free,&#8212;wealth and its gratifications would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> never have made him happy.
+He had mistaken himself in a passing fit of despair and cupidity, aided
+by the torturing agonies of being deeply in debt all round, and the
+ghastly fear of a social smash.</p>
+
+<p>He had a longing to feel at ease; he had a love of pleasure, too, of
+freedom, of idleness; and the sort of talent that consists in
+brilliantly describing what one could do and what one would like to do:
+in sketching schemes, verbally&#8212;literary, financial, artistic, no matter
+what&#8212;with so much charm, such aplomb that everyone believed in him, and
+enjoyed to hear his projects, but he had not either the genius that
+compels its owner to work nor the steadiness, the determination of
+character that makes a man a successful drudge, who gets there in the
+end.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel is being rather severely analysed. But let it be understood that
+with it all, besides having very great charm of look and manner, wit and
+high spirits, in certain ways he was quite a good fellow: he had no
+sneers for the more fortunate, no envy, nothing petty: he was
+warm-hearted, generous even&#8212;when it did not cross some desire of his;
+lavish with money, both on himself and on anyone who aided his pleasure,
+and quite kind and tender-hearted in that he couldn&#8217;t bear to see
+anyone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> suffer&#8212;even Mary, with whom, as a matter of fact, he was very
+weak.</p>
+
+<p>The saint thinks only of the claims of others: the criminal solely of
+his own. Between these extremes, there are, obviously, countless shades.
+Unfortunately, Nigel had this in common with the worst; that when he
+really wanted anything, everything had to go to the wall: all rights of
+others, principles and pity were forgotten, everything was thrown
+over&#8212;everyone pushed out of the way. He became unscrupulous. So when he
+had required money he threw over his first love who, he knew, adored
+him; now when he found out the mistake and was seriously in love with
+Bertha, he would have thrown over anything on earth to get her, and
+admired himself for doing it. He thought himself now noble-spirited and
+sporting. He would have run away with her at any moment, even if he
+thought they would have two or three hundred a year to live on, or
+nothing at all. Not only that, he would have been devoted to her and
+worshipped her and never reproached her&#8212;and been faithful to her
+too&#8212;until he fell in love with someone else, which might, or might not
+have happened.</p>
+
+<p>Often he wondered why he cared so much more for Bertha now that she was
+twenty-eight than when she was eighteen. Perhaps she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> really
+increased in charm: certainly she had in magnetism and in knowledge of
+the world, and she was just as attractive, a sweet little creature whom
+one wanted to protect and yet whom, in a way, one could lean on and rely
+on, too. She was so subtle, so strangely wise and sensible&#8212;she seemed
+to know everything while having the na&#239;ve, unconscious air of a person
+who knows next to nothing. And all these gifts she used&#8212;for what? She
+made Percy happy, she was charming and kind, clear-sighted, indulgent
+(if a little cynical), and always amusing; full of dash and spirit, and
+yet with the most feminine softness, and above all that invaluable
+instinct, always, for doing and saying the right thing &#8230; and (he knew
+instinctively) a genius for love. &#8230;</p>
+
+<p>Yes, he thought, she was an extraordinary woman! There was nobody like
+her: in his opinion she was thrown away on Percy. But <i>she</i> did not
+think so, and he envied, hated the husband, with an absurd
+bitterness&#8212;envied him for several reasons, but chiefly because Nigel
+had now developed what had been in abeyance at the time of their
+youthful engagement&#8212;that real sensuous discrimination, which has
+comparatively little to do with taste for beauty, that power of
+weighing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> amorous values, given only to the authentic Sybarite.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>On the day arranged for the Russian Ballet party, Nigel made an excuse
+for seeing Bertha to arrange tactics with regard to Rupert and Madeline.
+She told him she was expecting the Futurist painter, the Italian,
+Semolini, but she received him first.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;About Rupert, now,&#8221; said Nigel. &#8220;Isn&#8217;t it odd?&#8212;I always think of
+Rupert with a rapier concealed somewhere about his person. Ruperts and
+rapiers are inseparably associated in my mind. Well&#8212;shall I, after
+supper, drive back with Rupert and praise up Miss Irwin&#8212;or not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, if you think it is a good thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>If</i> I think it&#8217;s a good thing! Nothing in the world has such a good
+effect on a man as the admiration of another man for the girl he
+admires.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But don&#8217;t do too much digging in the ribs&#8212;don&#8217;t overdo it. Rupert,
+though he doesn&#8217;t carry a rapier, isn&#8217;t quite a modern cynical man, and
+with all his affectations I believe he has a very sweet nature. He&#8217;ll be
+good to Madeline&#8212;I want her to be happy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, at any rate, if she likes him she may as well have her fling at
+him,&#8221; said Nigel carelessly.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>Bertha looked annoyed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That isn&#8217;t the point only&#8212;silly! If she liked <i>you</i> ever so much and
+you were free, do you suppose I would take her side&#8212;help her?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope not,&#8221; said Nigel insinuatingly, suddenly changing his seat to
+one close to Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>She looked calmly away, as if bored.</p>
+
+<p>He saw it was the wrong tone and stood up, with his back to the
+mantelpiece, looking at her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I like your frock, Bertha.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She looked down at it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have an extraordinary air of not knowing what you have got on. I
+never saw a woman look so unconscious of her dress. There&#8217;s a good deal
+of the art that conceals art about it, I fancy. Your clothes are
+attractive&#8212;in an impressionist way!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The only thing I think of about my dresses, is that they should make
+people admire me&#8212;not my dressmaker,&#8221; said Bertha candidly. &#8220;I don&#8217;t
+care for much variety, and I leave real smartness to Madeline and the
+other tall, slim girls. My figure is so wrong! How dare I be short and
+tiny, and yet not thin, nowadays?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re exquisite&#8212;at least in my opinion. I&#8217;ve never been an admirer of
+the lamp-post as the type of a woman&#8217;s figure.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She looked bored again. &#8220;Oh, please don&#8217;t! I don&#8217;t care what you
+like&#8212;so long as you like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> Mary, who was very graceful and <i>chic</i>, I
+thought, the other night at the opera.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was Nigel&#8217;s turn to look bored.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. &#8230; What is this chap like, this Semolini man?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s not like anything. He&#8217;s a nice little thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Signor Semolini,&#8221; announced the servant.</p>
+
+<p>A very small, very brown young man came in, clean-shaven, with large
+bright blue eyes, black hair, and a single eyeglass with a black ribbon.</p>
+
+<p>They greeted him cordially, convinced him that he was welcome, made him
+feel at home, gave him tea. It was his first visit, but no one was ever
+shy long with Bertha. He soon began chattering very volubly in a sort of
+English, which, if not exactly broken, was decidedly cracked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I like those things of yours&#8212;at the gallery, I mean,&#8221; said Nigel
+patronisingly. He was always patronising to all artists, even when he
+didn&#8217;t know them, as in this case, to be cranks. &#8220;I think they&#8217;re
+top-hole; simply <i>awfully</i> good, I thought. I didn&#8217;t quite understand
+them, though, I admit.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you saw ze idea?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What idea?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>&#8220;Why, the simultaneity of the plastic states of mind in the art? That is
+our intoxicating object, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that! Ah, yes&#8212;yes, quite so. I thought it was that.&#8221; Nigel looked
+knowing, and shook his head wisely.</p>
+
+<p>Under this treatment the young Italian became very animated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You were right! You see, it is ze expansion of coloured forms in space,
+combined with the co-penetration of plastic masses which forms what we
+call futurism.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, of course,&#8221; said Nigel. &#8220;It would be. I mean to
+say&#8212;well!&#8212;almost anyone would guess that, wouldn&#8217;t they?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Semolini turned to Bertha, talking more and more quickly, and
+gesticulating with a little piece of bread and butter in his right hand.
+&#8220;It is ze entire liberation from the laws of logical perspective that
+makes movement&#8212;the Orphic cubism&#8212;if you will allow me to say so!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, certainly,&#8221; smiled Bertha. &#8220;<i>Do</i> say so!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Orphic cubism! I say! Isn&#8217;t that a bit strong before a lady?&#8221; murmured
+Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>Semolini laughed heartily without understanding a word, and continued to
+address himself to Bertha, whose eyes looked sympathetic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> &#8220;It is
+painting, pure painting&#8212;painting new masses with elements borrowed
+chiefly from the reality of mental vision!&#8221; cried the artist.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Funny! Just what I was going to say!&#8221; said Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha contented herself with encouraging smiles.</p>
+
+<p>The young Italian was due to lecture on his views, and had to leave. At
+least three appointments were made with him, none of which Nigel had the
+slightest intention of keeping&#8212;to &#8220;go into the matter more
+thoroughly&#8221;&#8212;then Semolini vanished, charmed with his reception.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good heavens! will someone take me away and serve me up on a cold
+plate?&#8221; said Nigel, directly he had gone. &#8220;Look here, Bertha, is the
+chap off his head, a fraud, or serious?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Awfully serious. Are you going to see him to look into the matter?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I <i>think</i> not,&#8221; said Nigel, &#8220;at least I don&#8217;t want to see his pictures,
+face to face, until I&#8217;ve insured my life. I must think of my widow and
+the children.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Here Nigel&#8217;s young brother, Charlie, arrived. He was a slimmer, younger,
+but less good-looking edition of Nigel. He had just come down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> from
+Oxford, was pleasant, gentle, and appeared to be trying to repress a
+natural inclination to be a nut. He called on Bertha in the hope of
+seeing Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I say, the Futurist chap has just been here,&#8221; said Nigel to Charlie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good! What&#8217;s he like?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A little bit of all right. Frightfully fascinating, as girls say,&#8221; said
+Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s not so bad,&#8221; said Bertha mildly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t he? I&#8217;ve seen the pictures. But what <i>is</i> he like? The sort of
+chap you&#8217;d like to be seen with?&#8221; asked the young man.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well&#8212;not acutely,&#8221; replied Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very dark, is he? quite black?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good teeth?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, several.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Clean-shaven?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not very.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But is he really an Italian?&#8221; asked Charlie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Shouldn&#8217;t think so,&#8221; said Nigel carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What then?&#8221; asked Bertha, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Scotch, probably.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very likely, if he&#8217;s clever. They say all the clever people come from
+Scotland,&#8221; Charlie remarked.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>&#8220;And the cleverer they are, the sooner they come, I suppose,&#8221; said
+Bertha. &#8220;Fancy the MacFuturist in a kilt!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But where does he come from &#8230; where does he really live?&#8221; continued
+Charlie, who seemed to have a special, suspicious curiosity on the
+subject.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rapallo,&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where&#8217;s that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The first turning to the left on the map as you go to Monte Carlo,&#8221;
+said Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But what <i>did</i> he say&#8212;was he very odd and peculiar?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, he carried on like one o&#8217;clock about Futurism,&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I thought every moment would be my next,&#8221; said Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What nonsense you&#8217;re both talking,&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and if Charlie thinks he&#8217;s going to sit me out by asking
+questions, he&#8217;s jolly well mistaken,&#8221; Nigel said. &#8220;Look here, old chap,
+Bertha&#8217;s going out. I know she wants to get into her glad raiment. I&#8217;ll
+drop you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Right-o!&#8221; said Charlie, jumping up.</p>
+
+<p>They took their leave. Bertha looked amused.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>CHAPTER VII
+<br />
+<br />RUSSIAN BALLET</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">ARRANGEMENTS had been made that Mrs. Nigel Hillier was to have a little
+dinner at home for her mother (with whom Nigel was not supposed to be on
+terms); and she and her parent were to go to the St. James&#8217;s Theatre,
+for which two stalls had been purchased. Nigel pretended he was dining
+with an old friend at the club.</p>
+
+<p>Coming in brightly, but, as usual, losing half his personality in the
+hall, he found Mary at seven o&#8217;clock sitting in the little boudoir, in
+the usual arm-chair, looking our for him, not, apparently, thinking of
+dressing for dinner.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hallo, Mary!&#8221; he said. &#8220;Hadn&#8217;t you better get ready for your mother?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; she responded rather coldly and bitingly, &#8220;I&#8217;ve put mother off.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at her with self-control. She looked, he thought, far more
+bitter than usual.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>&#8220;That&#8217;s a pity, because you will be alone&#8212;dear. Besides, the stalls
+will be wasted.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, they won&#8217;t,&#8221; she said. &#8220;You&#8217;ll stay at home with me, and take me to
+the St. James&#8217;s. You can easily put off your man at the club.&#8221; She
+looked him full in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Colour rose to his face and then faded away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sorry, my dear, but that&#8217;s impossible.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It isn&#8217;t impossible&#8212;you mean you don&#8217;t want to do it. &#8230; Oh, do
+please&#8212;please, Nigel!&#8221; She came towards him and played with his
+tie&#8212;the trick of hers that he hated most.</p>
+
+<p>She mistook his silence, which was hesitation as to what plan to adopt,
+for vacillation, and thought she was going to win. &#8230;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, &#8217;oo will, &#8217;oo will!&#8221; she exclaimed, with a rather sickly imitation
+of a spoilt child, with her head on one side. It was a pose that did not
+suit her in any way.</p>
+
+<p>He drew back; the shiny red hair gave him a feeling of positive nausea.
+She was attempting to defeat him&#8212;she was trying to be coquettish&#8212;poor
+thing! &#8230; She suspected something; she hadn&#8217;t put off her mother for
+nothing. &#8230; He was going to the Russian Ballet with Bertha&#8212;how could
+he leave Bertha in the lurch? With Madeline and Rupert, too&#8212;what harm
+was there in it? (The fact that he heartily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> wished there <i>was</i> had
+really nothing to do with the point.)</p>
+
+<p>Husbands and wives usually know when opposition is useless. Mary
+privately gave it up when she heard Nigel speak firmly and quickly&#8212;not
+angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve made the arrangement now, and I can&#8217;t back out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And what about me?&#8221; she said, in a shrill voice.</p>
+
+<p>He went out of the room hastily, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t help it now; if you alter your arrangements at the last
+minute&#8212;stop at home and read a book, or take some friend to the St.
+James&#8217;s.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He ran upstairs like a hunted hare; he was afraid of being late. He had
+got his table at the Carlton.</p>
+
+<p>Left alone in the boudoir, a terrible expression came over Mary&#8217;s face.
+She said to herself quite loudly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is not going to the club; he&#8217;d give it up if he were. It&#8217;s something
+about that woman. &#8230;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A wave of hysteria came over her, also a half-hearted hope of succeeding
+still by a new kind of scene. &#8230;</p>
+
+<p>There were two large china pots on the mantelpiece; she threw them,
+first one, then the other, at the half-open door, smashing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> them to
+atoms. Excited at her own violence, she ran upstairs screaming,
+regardless of appearance:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You sha&#8217;n&#8217;t go! You sha&#8217;n&#8217;t go! I hate you. I&#8217;ll kill myself.
+Oh&#8212;oh&#8212;oh! Nigel! Nigel!&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>At eight to the minute Nigel in the Palm Court received Bertha Kellynch
+dressed in black, Madeline in white, and Rupert Denison with a little
+mauve orchid in his buttonhole.</p>
+
+<p>The dinner, subtly ordered, was a complete success, and Madeline Irwin
+was in a dream of happiness, but Bertha was sorry to see that Nigel, who
+was usually remarkably moderate in the matter of champagne, and to-night
+drank even less than usual, had the whole evening a trembling hand. Even
+at the ballet, where he was more than usually ready to enjoy every shade
+of the enjoyable, he was not quite free from nervous agitation. He did
+not drive Rupert home, but let Rupert drop him in Grosvenor Street at
+twelve-thirty&#8212;for a slight supper was inevitable and Rupert had taken
+them to the Savoy.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Mrs. Hillier was in bed and asleep. The maid said she had been ill and
+excited. The maid, frightened, had sent for the doctor. His remedy had
+succeeded in calming her.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>The next day Mary seemed subdued, and was amiable. Both ignored the
+quarrel. Nigel believed it would not occur again. He thought his
+firmness had won and that she was defeated. He did not understand her.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII
+<br />
+<br />PERCY</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="Open quote" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap">I&#8217;VE had such a lovely letter from Rupert, Bertha. I&#8217;m so excited, I
+can&#8217;t read it almost!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha held out her hand. Madeline was looking agitated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He says,&#8221; said Madeline, looking closely at the letter in her
+short-sighted way, &#8220;that he wishes he could burn me like spice on the
+altar of a life-long friendship! Fancy!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rather indefinite, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but listen!&#8221; And Madeline read aloud eagerly: &#8220;<i>Yesterday evening
+was perfect: but to-day and for several days I shall be unable to see
+you. Why is a feast day always followed by a fast?</i>&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it Doncaster to-morrow?&#8221; asked Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be absurd, that&#8217;s nothing to do with it. Listen to this. <i>What a
+curiously interesting nature you have! Am I not right when I say that I
+fancy in time, as you develop and grow older, you may look at life eye
+to eye with me?</i>&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>&#8220;Madeline dear, <i>please</i> don&#8217;t mistake that for a proposal. I assure you
+that it isn&#8217;t one.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Madeline looked up sharply. &#8220;Who said it was? But, anyhow, it shows
+interest. He must be rather keen&#8212;I mean interested&#8212;in me. It&#8217;s all
+very well to say it means nothing, but for a man nowadays to sit down
+and write a long letter all about nothing at all, it must have some
+significance. Look how easily he might have rung up! I know you&#8217;re
+afraid of encouraging me too much, and it&#8217;s very kind of you&#8212;but I must
+confess I <i>do</i> think that letters mean a great deal. Think of the
+trouble he&#8217;s taken. And there&#8217;s a great deal about himself in it, too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course, Madeline, I don&#8217;t deny that it does show interest, and he
+probably must be a little in love with someone&#8212;perhaps with himself&#8212;to
+write a letter about nothing. As you say, it&#8217;s unusual nowadays. But you
+mustn&#8217;t forget that, though Rupert&#8217;s young, he belongs to the &#8217;95
+period. Things were very different then. People thought nothing of
+writing a long letter; and a telegram about nothing was considered quite
+advanced and American.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, bother!&#8221; said Madeline, &#8220;I hate being told about the period he
+belongs to. It makes it seem like ancient history. Listen to what he
+says about you&#8212;such lovely things! &#8216;<i>Mrs. Kellynch is a delightful
+contrast to you, and is all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> that is charming and brilliant, in a
+different way. Is she not one of those (alas, too few) who are always
+followed by the flutes of the pagan world?</i>&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s really very sweet of him. I say, I wonder what it means
+exactly?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have no idea. But it just shows, doesn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>With a satisfied smile, Madeline put the letter away. Bertha did not
+press to see it, but remarked: &#8220;I see he didn&#8217;t sign himself very
+affectionately. Evidently there&#8217;s nothing compromising in the letter.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why do you say that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Because you put it away. Otherwise you would have shown it to me.
+Nobody cares to show an uncompromising love-letter&#8212;with a lukewarm
+signature.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;At any rate,&#8221; said Madeline, gliding over the point and leaving the
+letter in its cover, &#8220;your taking us out last night was a very great
+help. I feel I&#8217;ve made progress; he thinks more of me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I thought it would be a good thing to do. Now you&#8217;d better not
+answer the letter, and please don&#8217;t show any anxiety if you don&#8217;t see
+him for a little while, either.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t be a bit anxious, Bertha, especially if it&#8217;s only racing, or
+something of that sort.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> Or, in fact, anything, unless I get afraid he&#8217;s
+seeing Miss Chivvey. Do you ever think that Rupert still takes an
+interest in Miss Chivvey?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A little, but I don&#8217;t think it matters. I think she&#8217;s needed as a
+contrast to you. She surprises and shocks him, and that amuses him, but
+she isn&#8217;t his real taste. I don&#8217;t think Miss Chivvey&#8217;s dangerous,
+seriously. She uses cheap scent.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh!&#8221; cried Madeline, delighted. &#8220;There&#8217;s nothing so awful as cheap
+scent!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Except expensive scent, because it&#8217;s stronger,&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>Madeline looked at her admiringly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How extraordinary you are, Bertha! It&#8217;s wonderfully sweet of you to
+take such an interest in my wretched little romance. You might have so
+many of your own, if you cared to.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, but I don&#8217;t care to. I&#8217;m rather exacting in a way, but I don&#8217;t want
+variety. I&#8217;ve no desire for an audience. I don&#8217;t want a little of
+everybody. All I want is the whole of one person.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is that all! Well, you&#8217;ve got it,&#8221; replied Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope so,&#8221; she answered, rather seriously. &#8220;I&#8217;m not altogether
+satisfied. I can&#8217;t settle down to the idea of a dull, humdrum sort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> of
+life&#8212;and of Percy&#8217;s being fond of me casually.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good gracious, I&#8217;m sure he isn&#8217;t casual! What a strange idea of
+yours!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope I&#8217;m wrong. I believe I want something that&#8217;s very nearly
+impossible. I&#8217;ve always had a sort of ideal or dream of making an
+ordinary average married life into a romance.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, and can&#8217;t it be?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t really see why it shouldn&#8217;t. But there&#8217;s no doubt there are
+immense difficulties in the way. It seems to be necessary, first of all,
+for there to be not only one exceptional temperament, but two. And
+that&#8217;s a good deal to expect. Of course, the obvious danger is the
+probability of people getting tired of anything they&#8217;ve got. I&#8217;m afraid
+that&#8217;s human nature. The toys the children see in the shop-window always
+seem much less wonderful when they&#8217;re home in the nursery. As a brother
+of mine used to say a little vulgarly, &#8216;You don&#8217;t run after an omnibus
+when once you&#8217;ve caught it.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps not.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;As soon as you belong to a person, obviously, Madeline, they don&#8217;t
+value you <i>quite</i> in the same kind of way. The glamour seems to go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you don&#8217;t want necessarily always to be <i>run after</i>, surely? You
+want to be treasured and valued&#8212;all that sort of thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>&#8220;Yes, I know! But my ideal would be that there should be just as much
+excitement and romance and <i>fun</i> after marriage as before&#8212;if it were
+possible.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good heavens, Bertha! then, if one were to go by that horrible
+theory of your brother&#8217;s, one ought never to marry the person one loves,
+if one wants to keep them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, in theory, one ought not. But then, where are you if he goes and
+marries someone else? After all, you&#8217;d rather he got tired of <i>you</i> than
+of the other person! Wouldn&#8217;t you prefer he should make <i>your</i> life
+miserable than any other woman&#8217;s? Besides, one must take a risk. It&#8217;s
+worth it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should think it is, indeed!&#8221; cried Madeline. &#8220;Why, I would marry
+Rupert if I thought I should never see him again after a month or
+two&#8212;if I knew for a fact he would get tired of me!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course you would, and quite right too. But remember people are not
+all alike. There are any number of men who are absolutely incapable of
+being really in love with anyone who belongs to them. They simply can&#8217;t
+help it. It&#8217;s the instinct of the chase. And it&#8217;s mere waste of time and
+energy to attempt to change them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you speaking of men or husbands?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>&#8220;Either, really. But don&#8217;t let&#8217;s forget that there are a great many
+others, on the other hand, who care for nothing and no one who isn&#8217;t
+their own. Collectors, rather than hunters. Surely you&#8217;ve noticed that,
+Madeline? It&#8217;s a passion for property. The kind of man who thinks <i>his</i>
+house, <i>his</i> pictures, <i>his</i> cook, even his mother, everything connected
+with him must be better than the possessions of anyone else. Well, this
+kind of man is quite capable of remaining very devoted to his own wife,
+and in love with her, if she&#8217;s only decently nice to him; and even if
+she&#8217;s not. I mean the sort of man one sometimes sees at a party,
+pointing out some utterly insignificant person there, and declaring that
+Gladys or Jane, or whoever it is, takes the shine out of everyone else,
+and that there&#8217;s no one else in the room to touch her. His wife, of
+course. I don&#8217;t mean out of devotion&#8212;that&#8217;s another, finer
+temperament&#8212;but simply and solely because she belongs to him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, Bertha, I don&#8217;t care what his reason is, I <i>like</i> that man!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, rather! So do I. And very often he&#8217;s not a bit appreciated; though
+he would be by us. Perhaps the most usual case of all is for the
+husband, if he&#8217;s married for love, to remain in love for the first two
+or three years, and for the love then to turn gradually into a warm
+friendship,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> or even a deep affection, which may go on growing
+deeper&#8212;it&#8217;s only the romance and the glamour and sparkle that seems to
+go&#8212;the excitement. And that&#8217;s such a pity. I can&#8217;t help thinking in
+many cases it really needn&#8217;t be. More often than not, I believe, it&#8217;s
+the woman&#8217;s mistake. Just at first, she&#8217;s liable to take too much
+advantage of the new sort of power she feels.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean, Bertha, that the woman generally doesn&#8217;t take enough
+trouble with the house to make it pleasant for him at home&#8212;and all
+that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I <i>didn&#8217;t</i> mean that, though it might be so. But sometimes it&#8217;s just
+the other way. More often than not she takes a great deal too much
+trouble about the home, and bothers him about it. There&#8217;s far too much
+domesticity. It&#8217;s like playing at houses at first, but soon it grows
+tedious. At any rate the whole thing is worth studying very deeply. I
+can tell you I haven&#8217;t given it up yet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You? Oh, Bertha, I can&#8217;t think what fault you have to find. You, as you
+say, certainly are exacting.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I blame myself, solely. I feel that, somehow or other, I&#8217;ve allowed
+things to get too prosaic. Percy takes everything for granted:
+everything goes on wheels. Of course, if I were satisfied to settle down
+at twenty-eight with complete<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> contentment at the prospect of a humdrum
+existence, it would be all right; but I&#8217;m not. In another few years
+Percy will be getting on very well as a barrister, taking himself
+seriously, and regarding me just as part of the furniture at home. You
+know he always calls me a canary; that shows his point of view. Well,
+then, he might get a little interested in a wilder kind of bird, and I
+shouldn&#8217;t like it!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What would your idea be, then? Would you flirt to make him jealous?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I certainly shouldn&#8217;t. That&#8217;s frightfully obvious and common. If I
+ever did flirt, it wouldn&#8217;t be for such a silly reason as that. It would
+be for my own amusement and for nothing else, but I don&#8217;t think I ever
+shall. I think it&#8217;s a fatal mistake for a woman to lower herself in any
+way in the other person&#8217;s eyes. Her lasting hold and best one, is that
+he must think her perfection; it&#8217;s the safest link with a really nice
+man. Anyone can be worse than you are, but it&#8217;s not easy when you take
+the line that none can be <i>better</i>! because no one else is going to try!
+But if, after all, he still gets tired of her, as they sometimes do,
+well&#8212;it&#8217;s very hard&#8212;but I am afraid she must manage badly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I never should have dreamed you thought of all these things, Bertha.
+You seem so serene and happy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>&#8220;I am. It&#8217;s the one subject I ever worry about. I&#8217;m always prepared for
+the worst.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I&#8217;m quite sure you&#8217;ve no cause to be. Why not wait till trouble
+comes?&#8221; suggested Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, then it would be too late. No, I want to ward it off long before
+there&#8217;s any danger.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think it&#8217;s very unlike you&#8212;almost morbid&#8212;bothering about
+possibilities that will never happen.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I daresay it is, in a way. But, you know, I fancy I&#8217;ve second sight
+sometimes. What I feel with us is that things are too smooth, too calm,
+a little dull. Something ought to happen.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re looking so pretty, too,&#8221; said Madeline rather irrelevantly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m glad to hear it; but I only want one person to think so.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But it&#8217;s obvious that he does; he&#8217;s very proud of you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I sometimes think he&#8217;s too much accustomed to me. He takes me as a
+matter of course.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If that is so, I daresay you&#8217;ll be able to alter matters,&#8221; said
+Madeline, getting up to go.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I daresay I shall; it only needs a little readjusting,&#8221; Bertha
+said.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>They shook hands in cordial fashion. They did not belong to the gushing
+school, and, notwithstanding their really deep mutual affection, neither
+would ever have dreamed of kissing the other.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as Madeline had gone Bertha went and looked steadily and
+seriously in the glass, for some considerable time. She thought on the
+whole that it was true that she was looking pretty: on this subject she
+was perfectly calm, cool and unbiassed, as if judging the appearance of
+a stranger. For, though she naturally liked to be admired, as all women
+do, she was entirely without that fluffy sort of vanity, that weak
+conceit, so indulgent to itself, that makes nearly all pretty women
+incapable of perceiving when they are beginning to go off, or unwilling
+to own it to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The one person for whose admiration and interest she cared for more and
+more, her Percy, she fancied was growing rather cooler. This crumpled
+rose-leaf distressed her extremely.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment he arrived home. She heard his voice and his step, and
+waited for him to come up, with an increasing vividness of colour and
+expression, with a look of excited animation, that in so sophisticated a
+woman was certainly, after ten years, a remarkable tribute to a
+husband.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>Percy, who was never very quick, was this evening much longer coming
+upstairs than usual. He was looking at the letters in the hall. With his
+long, legal-looking, handsome face, his even features, his fine figure
+and his expression of mild self-control, and the large, high brow, he
+had a certain look of importance. He appeared to have more personality
+then he really had. His manner was impressive, even when one knew&#8212;as
+Bertha certainly did&#8212;that he was the mildest, the most amiable and
+good-natured of serious barristers.</p>
+
+<p>With one of those impulses that are almost impossible to account for,
+Percy took one of the letters up before the others. It was directed in
+type. He half opened it, then put it in his pocket. He felt anxious to
+read it; for some quite inexplicable reason he felt there was something
+about it momentous, and of interest. It was not a circular, or a bill.
+It made him feel uncomfortable. After waiting a moment he opened it and
+read part of it. Then he replaced it in his pocket, and ran up to his
+room, taking the other unopened letters with him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy!&#8221; called Bertha, as he passed the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall be down in a few minutes,&#8221; he called out.</p>
+
+<p>He went upstairs and shut himself into his room.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>She also felt unaccountably uncomfortable and anxious, as if something
+had happened, or was going to happen. Why was Percy so long?</p>
+
+<p>When he came down at last she gave him his tea and a cigarette and
+noticed, or perhaps imagined, that he looked different from usual. He
+was pale. Yes, he was distinctly a little pale. Poor Percy!</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Instead of telling him he was not looking very well, and asking him what
+was the matter, complaining that he had not taken any notice of her, or
+behaving otherwise idiotically, after the usual fashion of affectionate
+wives, she remained silent, and waited till he seemed more as usual.</p>
+
+<p>Then he said: &#8220;Has anyone been here to-day?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No one but Madeline. She&#8217;s only just gone.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes&#8212;been out at all?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I went out this morning for a little while.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He seemed absent.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You enjoyed yourself last night, didn&#8217;t you?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, it was rather fun. Yet, somehow, the Russian Ballet never
+leaves me in good spirits for the next day. It doesn&#8217;t really leave a
+pleasant impression somehow&#8212;an agreeable flavour.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>&#8220;Doesn&#8217;t it&#8212;why?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One wants to see it, one is interested, from curiosity, and then,
+afterwards, there&#8217;s a sort of Dead Sea-fruitish, sour-grapes,
+autumn-leaves, sort of feeling! It&#8217;s too remote from real life and yet
+it hasn&#8217;t an uplifting effect. At any rate it always depresses me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He gave her a rather searching look, and then said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did Hillier like it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think he enjoys everything. He&#8217;s always so cheery.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And to-night we&#8217;re dining at home?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, I hope so. We&#8217;ll have a quiet evening.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>After a moment Percy said, in a slightly constrained way:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I shall have to go out for half-an-hour. I want to see a man at
+the club.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, must you? But it&#8217;s raining so much. Why don&#8217;t you ring him up and
+ask him to come here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was anxious not to betray a womanish fear that he might be getting
+influenza, as she knew that nothing would annoy him so much as bothering
+about him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; I must go out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She dropped the subject. He took up a new book she had been reading and
+talked about it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> somewhat pompously and at great length. The whole time
+it struck her he was not like himself. Something was wrong. He was
+either worried, or going to be ill. He had either a temper or a
+temperature. But she did not refer to it. Dinner was sometimes a good
+cure for such indispositions.</p>
+
+<p>He continued to make conversation in a slightly formal way until he went
+out. After he had gone she observed to herself that his manner had
+varied from polite absent-mindedness to slight irritability. He had gone
+out without telling her anything about his plans. He had not even kissed
+her.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>CHAPTER IX
+<br />
+<br />AN ANONYMOUS LETTER</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">MRS. HILLIER habitually had breakfast in her own room, for no particular
+reason, but because Nigel encouraged her in this luxurious manner of
+beginning the day. He said a woman ought not to have to come down until
+the day had been a little warmed, and got ready for her; that she should
+have time to choose her clothes to harmonise with her moods&#8212;time, after
+a look at the weather, and hearing the news of the day, to settle on
+what the moods should be. For a man, on the contrary, he thought it
+ridiculous and weakly idle&#8212;indolent in a way not suited to a man. A
+man, according to Nigel, ought no more to have his breakfast in bed than
+to come down with a bow of blue ribbon in his hair, or to go and lie
+down before dressing for a dinner-party.</p>
+
+<p>However, one morning it darted suddenly into Mary&#8217;s head that Nigel, on
+going downstairs to breakfast, while she did not, had nearly an hour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> to
+himself. What a horrible idea! What injustice to her! And it occurred to
+her that for years she had never seen Nigel open his letters. She had,
+indeed, not the slightest idea what his manner at breakfast was like.
+Was this fair? He always managed to get out of any invitation to the
+country which included them both.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she had thought of this, she rang for her maid, and dressed
+in the wildest hurry, as though she had to catch a train: leaving her
+tray on the little table untouched, the maid running after her to fasten
+hooks, and buttons, to stick in pins, and tie ribbons, as though they
+were playing a game.</p>
+
+<p>Mary won. She was flying out of the room when the maid ran after her,
+saying:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Madame, your tortoiseshell comb is falling out of your hair; won&#8217;t you
+let me finish dressing it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t worry, Searle. What <i>does</i> it matter?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She flew downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel looked up with that intense surprise that no one can succeed in
+disguising as the acutest pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, by Jove,&#8221; he said, in his quick way, which was so cool and casual
+that it almost had the effect of a drawl. He looked at her closely, and
+said reassuringly:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>&#8220;After all, it may not be true; and if it is, it may be for the best.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What may not be true, Nigel. What do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, this sudden bad news.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What news? There is no news.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t there? By Jove, this is splendid! Just come down to have
+breakfast with me, then! Capital. What will you have, dear?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He rang the bell.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you sorry to see me?&#8221; she asked, darting looks at the envelopes by
+his plate, looks that were almost sharp enough to open them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sorry to see you? Don&#8217;t be absurd! Your comb&#8217;s falling into the sugar
+basin, and I shouldn&#8217;t think it would improve the taste of the coffee.
+Look out! Help! Saved! Mary dear, why don&#8217;t you do your hair?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was afraid you might go out before I came down.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, I&#8217;m not going out for ages, yet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He gave her his letters in their envelopes, with a half-smile.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to see them,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Why do you pass me the letters,
+as though you thought I came down for that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel pretended not to hear. He opened the newspaper.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>&#8220;I thought,&#8221; she went on, &#8220;it seemed rather a shame that I should always
+have breakfast upstairs, and leave you alone, without anyone to keep you
+company.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Awfully kind of you, but, really, I don&#8217;t mind a bit.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He gave a quick look round the room. He had again that curious, bitter
+sensation of being trapped. Was he now not even going to have this
+pleasant morning hour to himself?</p>
+
+<p>Probably there was not a prettier room in London than this one. It had
+the pale pink and green, blue and mauve colouring of spring flowers; the
+curved shapes of the dainty artificial creatures who lived for fine and
+trivial pleasure only; the best Louis Quinze decoration. And to-day it
+was a lovely day; and the warm west wind blew in the breath of the pink
+and blue hyacinths in the window-boxes. There was that pleasant gay
+buzzing sound of London in June outside in Grosvenor Street: the growing
+hum of the season, that made one feel right in it, even if one wasn&#8217;t.
+Everything was peacefully happy, harsh and hard things seemed unreal;
+the world seemed made for birds and butterflies, light sentiment,
+colour, perfume and gay music. In this London life seemed like a Watteau
+picture.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>Nigel saw that he had never yet realised why he was so fond of this
+room, where he always had breakfast. It was because there he was free,
+and alone.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Now he was determined that there should be no quarrelling to-day. It is
+only fair to Nigel to say that he was always quite determined to keep
+away the quarrels; and fought against them. Placed as they were, with
+such infinitely more possibilities of happiness than nine <i>m&#233;nages</i> out
+of ten&#8212;though leaving out unfortunately one, and that the most
+important part&#8212;love&#8212;it was terrible that they should quarrel. He was
+so easy-going, so ready to ignore her faults, to make the best of things
+as they were. And she liked to quarrel, merely because it made her, for
+the time, of importance to him. In fact, being madly in love with him,
+and both wildly and stupidly jealous, to get up a quarrel was almost the
+only satisfaction she ever had, the only effect she ever produced now.</p>
+
+<p>Since the other evening, when she had behaved with entire want of
+self-control, or, perhaps, rather with a kind of instinctive
+premeditated hysteria, she appeared to recognise that manner had not
+been a real success. She had tried, at all costs, to prevent him going
+to the theatre, and had failed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>The next day they ignored the trouble; and for some time afterwards she
+seemed pleasanter, while he was kind and attentive, believing she had
+really forgotten her grievance.</p>
+
+<p>On the contrary, it was more firmly fixed in her mind than before. She
+was absolutely determined that, on no excuse whatever, should he
+continue to see Bertha Kellynch.</p>
+
+<p>She had found out that the host of the evening at the ballet had been
+Rupert Denison, and that Madeline Irwin, Bertha and Nigel were the
+guests. For more than a week Mary had entirely given up the quarrelsome
+and nagging mood, so that Nigel believed she no longer had this absurd
+fancy about Bertha. As a matter of fact, for the first time, she had
+really been dissembling, had spent a good deal of time and money in
+finding out how both Bertha and Nigel spent their time. What little she
+had found out had given her an entirely false impression, and that had
+resulted in a very desperate determination. She meant to carry it out
+this morning. But she wanted to talk a little more to Nigel first.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nigel dear, you know what you said the other evening about giving
+parties?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve been thinking, perhaps, dear, you&#8217;re right. I find I&#8217;ve dropped
+nearly all your old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> friends. I think we&#8217;d better give one big party&#8212;a
+reception, I think. Our drawing-room has never been seen yet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel looked up, really pleased to see her taking a more normal sort of
+interest in her existence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;By Jove! I am glad. That&#8217;s capital! Yes, of course. To start with we&#8217;ll
+give an At Home, as they call &#8217;em.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think there ought to be any sort of entertainment, Nigel?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, just as you like. You said you didn&#8217;t want music. &#8230; How would
+it be to have a band to play the whole evening?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, that would do very well. Oh, and, Nigel! I find I&#8217;ve been so
+careless and forgotten all the addresses and lost the cards of people
+that we used to know. I shall want someone to help me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I suppose Mademoiselle won&#8217;t do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no, she&#8217;s no use. I shall engage a typewriter to go through the list
+with me and send out cards.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Right-o! good idea.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He was quite surprised and satisfied, and thought to himself how wise it
+was of him the other day to ignore the absurd fit of excitement when she
+had smashed the vases. Certainly she had been better ever since.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>&#8220;You&#8217;d like me to help you with the list, wouldn&#8217;t you, dear?&#8221; he said
+presently.</p>
+
+<p>She gave him a sharp look.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose we&#8217;d better ask everybody we know to this sort of thing,&#8221; she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your mother and I are not on the best of terms, I&#8217;m afraid. But you
+must be sure to ask her, and we&#8217;ll make it up.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel thought to himself that really would be only fair, considering
+that he had practically and ingeniously invented the quarrel on purpose;
+in order that he could have an excuse to go out when Mary&#8217;s mother came
+to see her. But, really, Nigel liked her personally and knew that she
+liked him, and that she was not without sympathy for anyone who had to
+live with her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you&#8217;ll want me to ask the Kellynches?&#8221; asked Mary, in a
+rather low voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It would look natural if you did. But, really, I have seen so little of
+them for the last few years that you can please yourself about it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve accepted several invitations from them,&#8221; said Mary, in rather a
+cutting tone. &#8220;Perhaps it would be as well to return them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ve ever dined there,&#8221; said Nigel casually.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t you meet them that night at the Russian Ballet? Don&#8217;t deny it! I
+know you all went to supper at the Savoy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who&#8217;s denying it! You know that Denison asked me to supper at the
+Savoy, and that Madeline Irwin was there, and Mrs. Kellynch.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quite a nice little <i>partie carr&#233;e</i>,&#8221; said Mary, unable to keep up her
+plan of self-control, and speaking in a trembling voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, Mary, don&#8217;t be absurd! You know it&#8217;s hardly usual for a bachelor
+like Rupert to ask three women or three men to supper!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose he drove Miss Irwin home?&#8221; said Mary, commanding herself as
+well as she could.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, he didn&#8217;t. Why should he? Mrs. Kellynch who is Madeline&#8217;s intimate
+friend, naturally drove Miss Irwin home in her car. And Rupert, who
+lives near here, dropped me. It was some little time ago, by the way,
+but I remember it quite well. Nice feller Rupert&#8212;we ought to ask him,
+too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right, dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They parted amiably.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>An hour later Mary was going through her lists of cards and addresses
+with the typewriter when she suddenly said:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>&#8220;Oh, Miss Wilson, I&#8217;m writing a sort of story. And it&#8217;s to be told in a
+series of letters.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you please take this down. This is the address: Percy Kellynch,
+Esq., 100 Sloane Street. It begins like this: &#8216;Dear Mr. Kellynch&#8212;&#8212;&#8217;&#8221;
+&#8230;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span><a name="X" id="X"></a>CHAPTER X
+<br />
+<br />MASTER CLIFFORD KELLYNCH</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">LADY KELLYNCH was in the room she usually chose for sitting in for any
+length of time, when her son, Clifford (twelve years old), was at home
+for the holidays.</p>
+
+<p>A widow, handsome and excessively dignified, as I have mentioned, with
+her prim notions, she was essentially like the old-fashioned idea of an
+old maid. As her fine house was very perfectly and meticulously
+furnished, she treated the presence of Clifford as an outrage in any
+room but this particularly practical and saddle-bag old apartment, where
+there was still a corner with a little low chair in it, and boxes full
+of toys and other things, which were not only far outgrown by Clifford,
+but which were absolutely never seen nowadays at all, and would be
+considered far behindhand as amusements for a child of four.</p>
+
+<p>This extra, additional child, born eighteen years after his brother, and
+just before the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> death of his father, was still looked upon by Lady
+Kellynch as a curious mixture of an unexpected blessing, an unnecessary
+nuisance, and a pleasant surprise. She was always delighted to see him
+when he first came home from school, but he was very soon allowed to go
+and stay with Bertha and Percy. Bertha adored him and delighted in him
+in reality; Lady Kellynch worshipped him in theory, but though she
+hardly knew it herself, his presence absolutely interfered with all her
+plans about nothing, spoilt her little arrangements for order, and
+jarred on the clockwork regularity of her life, especially in her
+moments of sentiment.</p>
+
+<p>He was a very good-looking boy, with smooth black hair and regular
+features like his brother, Percy. Perhaps because he was, according to
+his mother&#8217;s view, very much advanced for his age, he regarded her
+rather as a backward child, to whom it would be highly desirable, but
+unfortunately practically impossible, to explain life as it is now
+lived.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch was doing a peculiar little piece of bead embroidery. She
+did it every day for ten minutes after lunch with a look at Clifford
+every now and then, occasionally counting her beads, as if she was not
+altogether quite sure whether or not he ate them when she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> wasn&#8217;t
+looking. This was the moment that she always chose to have conversation
+with him, so as to learn to know his character. A couple of suitable
+books, &#8220;The Jungle Book,&#8221; and &#8220;Eric, or Little by Little,&#8221; were placed
+on a low table by Clifford&#8217;s side; but, as a matter of fact, he was
+reading <i>The English Review</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Clifford darling!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He put the magazine down, shoving a newspaper over it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, mother?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tell me something about your life at school, darling.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at the ceiling, then looked down for inspiration.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, haven&#8217;t you any nice little friends at school, Clifford&#8212;any
+favourites?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good Lord, mother, of course I haven&#8217;t! People don&#8217;t have little
+friends. I don&#8217;t know what you mean.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She looked rather pained.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No friends! Oh, dear, dear, dear! But are there no nice boys that you
+like?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. Most of them are awful rotters.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She put down her beads.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Clifford! I&#8217;m shocked to hear this. Rotters! I suppose that&#8217;s one of
+your school expressions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>&#8212;you mean no nice boys? Poor little fellow! I
+shall make a note of that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He looked up, rather frightened.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What on earth for?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, I shall certainly speak to your master about it. Oh! to think that
+you haven&#8217;t got a single friend in the school! <i>All</i> bad boys! There
+must be something wrong somewhere!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mummy, for goodness sake don&#8217;t speak to anybody about it. If you
+say a word, I tell you, I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t go back to school. I never heard of
+such a thing! I didn&#8217;t say they were all bad boys&#8212;rot! No. Some of them
+aren&#8217;t so bad.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, tell me about one&#8212;if it&#8217;s only one, Clifford.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He thought a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid you&#8217;ll go writing to the master, as you call it, and get me
+expelled for telling tales, or something.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my darling, of course I won&#8217;t! Poor boy! tell me about this one.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s one chap who&#8217;s fairly decent, a chap called Pickering.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;To think,&#8221; she murmured to herself, stroking her transformation, and
+shaking her head, &#8220;to think there should be only one boy fairly decent
+in all that enormous school!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>&#8220;Oh, well! <i>he&#8217;s</i> simply <i>frightfully</i> decent, as a matter of fact.
+Pickering fairly takes it. He&#8217;s top-hole. There&#8217;s nothing he can&#8217;t do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What does he do, darling?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I can&#8217;t exactly explain. He&#8217;s a bit of all right. It&#8217;s frightfully
+smart to be seen with him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch looked surprised at this remark.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Clifford&#8212;really! I&#8217;d no idea you had these social views. Of course
+you&#8217;re quite right, dear. I&#8217;ve always been in favour of your being
+friends with little gentlemen. But I shouldn&#8217;t like you to be at
+all&#8212;what is called a snob. So long as he <i>is</i> a little gentleman, of
+course, that&#8217;s everything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Clifford laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I never said Pickering was a gentleman! big or little! You don&#8217;t
+understand, mother. I mean it&#8217;s smart to be seen with him because&#8212;oh! I
+can&#8217;t explain. He&#8217;s all right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>His mother thought for a little while, then, having heard that it is
+right to encourage school friendships at home, so as to know under what
+influence your boy got, she said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Would you like, dear, to have this young Master Pickering to tea here
+one day?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He looked up, and round the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no, mother; I shouldn&#8217;t care for him to come here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>&#8220;Why not, dear?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I can&#8217;t explain exactly; it isn&#8217;t the sort of place for him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch was positively frightened to ask why, for fear her boy
+should show contempt for his own home, so she didn&#8217;t go into the matter,
+but remarked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should think a beautiful house in Onslow Square, with a garden like
+this, was just the thing for a boy to like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head with a humorous expression of contempt.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pickering wouldn&#8217;t go into a <i>Square</i> garden, mother!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She waited a moment, wondering what shaped garden was suited to him,
+what form of pleasaunce was worthy of the presence of this exceptional
+boy, and then said, trying to ascertain the point of view:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Would you take him to see Percy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He brightened up directly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy! Oh yes, rather. I&#8217;d like him to see Bertha. I shall ask her to
+let me take him one day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch felt vaguely pained, and envious and jealous, but on
+reflection realised to herself that probably the wonderful Pickering
+would be a very great nuisance, and make a noise, and create general
+untidiness and confusion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> in which Bertha was quite capable of taking
+part; so she said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do so, if you like, dear. You&#8217;re going to see Bertha soon, aren&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I&#8217;m going to see her to-day.&#8221; He quickly put <i>The English Review</i>
+under the cushion, sitting on it as he saw his mother look up from her
+work.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bertha&#8217;s all right; she&#8217;s pretty too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s very good and kind to you, I must say,&#8221; said Lady Kellynch. &#8220;As
+they have asked you so often, I think I should like you to pay her a
+nice little attention to-day, dear. Take her a pretty basket of
+flowers.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Clifford&#8217;s handsome dark face became overclouded with boredom.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good Lord, mother! can&#8217;t you telephone to a florist and have it
+sent to her, if she&#8217;s <i>got</i> to have vegetables?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But surely, dear, it would be nicer for you to take it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, it would be awful rot, carting about floral tribs in a taxi
+all over London.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Floral tribs? What are floral tribs? Oh, tributes! I see! In a taxi!
+No. I never dreamt of your doing such a thing. Ridiculous extravagance!
+Go from Kensington to Sloane Street in a taxi!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How did you suppose I&#8217;d take it, then?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>&#8220;I supposed you&#8217;d walk,&#8221; said Lady Kellynch, in a frightened voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Walk! Great Scott! Walk with a basket of flowers! What next! I didn&#8217;t
+know you were bringing me up as a messenger-boy. No, mother, I&#8217;m too old
+to be a boy scout, or anything of that sort. What have you got Warden
+for? Why don&#8217;t you send the footman? But far the most sensible way is to
+ring up the place itself, and give the order.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, dear,&#8221; said Lady Kellynch, rather crushed. She had pictured his
+entrance with some beautiful flowers to please his sister-in-law. &#8220;Never
+mind; it doesn&#8217;t matter.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mind you,&#8221; said the spoilt boy, standing up, and looking at himself in
+the glass. &#8220;Mind you I should be awfully glad to give Bertha anything
+she likes. I don&#8217;t mind. I&#8217;ll tell you what I&#8217;ll do. I&#8217;ll call in at
+that place in Bond Street, and get her some chocolates.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Charbonnel and Walker&#8217;s, I suppose you mean,&#8221; said his mother.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;ll do. Pickering says his brother, who&#8217;s an artist, is going to do
+a historical picture for next year&#8217;s Academy on the subject of &#8216;The
+First Meeting between Charbonnel and Walker.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She looked bewildered.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>&#8220;Just as you like, my dear. Take her some bonbons if you prefer it.
+Wait! One moment, Clifford. Bertha hates sweets. She never touches
+them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It doesn&#8217;t matter,&#8221; he answered. &#8220;I do.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>CHAPTER XI
+<br />
+<br />A DISCOVERY</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="Open quote" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap">COME in, old boy!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha was lying on the sofa reading a large book. She didn&#8217;t put down
+either her little feet or the book when her young brother-in-law came
+in.</p>
+
+<p>He also had a book in his pocket, which he took out. Then he produced a
+box in silver paper.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For you,&#8221; he remarked, and then immediately cut the blue ribbon with a
+penknife and proceeded to begin the demolition of the chocolates.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A present for me?&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; he said, taking a second one rather quickly and glancing at the
+second row.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m so glad you&#8217;ve got me the kind you like. I hope you&#8217;ve got those
+with the burnt almonds that you&#8217;re so particularly fond of?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, rather!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>&#8220;Thanks. That was nice and thoughtful of you; I know they&#8217;re your
+favourite sort.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, they are.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And what I always think is so nice about you, Clifford,&#8221; Bertha went
+on, &#8220;is that you&#8217;re so truly thoughtful. I mean, you never forget your
+own tastes. You really take trouble to get yourself any little thing you
+like. You put yourself out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh&#8212;I&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no, I&#8217;m not flattering you; I really mean it. You&#8217;re such a nice
+thoughtful boy. I&#8217;ve seen you take a lot of trouble, rather than deprive
+yourself of anything you cared for.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Bertha!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you going to stay long to-day?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I am,&#8221; said Clifford, taking up the book he had brought with him.
+&#8220;As long as I can.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How long can I?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Till dinner, or till anyone turns up that I want to talk to.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Right-o! But you can send me into another room. I needn&#8217;t go home, need
+I?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you silly boy! Of course not.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I say, have you seen my report?&#8221; he asked gravely.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>&#8220;Some of it. Your mother read out little bits.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Which little bits?&#8221; he asked rather anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, the worst of course!&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;The purple patches! You&#8217;re a
+credit to the family, I don&#8217;t think!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She asked me who was my nicest little friend at school,&#8221; said Clifford.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And what did you say?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I told her about Pickering. I say, Bertha, &#8230; can I bring Pickering
+here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course you can.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I give him a regular sort of invitation from you, then?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, rather. Tell him that I and Percy ask him to come and live here
+from to-morrow morning for the rest of his natural life. Or, if that
+doesn&#8217;t seem cordial enough, we&#8217;ll adopt him as our only son.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no! I think that&#8217;s too much.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it? Well, make it from to-morrow afternoon. Or perhaps we&#8217;d better
+not be effusive; it wouldn&#8217;t look well. So, instead of that, I&#8217;ll invite
+him to go to the Zoological Gardens on Sunday fortnight for an hour, and
+you and he can have buns and tea at your own expense there. That&#8217;s not
+too hospitable and gushing, is it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He laughed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>&#8220;You do look smart, Bertha!&#8221; he remarked. &#8220;Your shoes are always so
+frightfully right. I say, can&#8217;t you tell mother to wear the same sort of
+shoes? And tell her to look narrower, and not have such high collars.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear boy, your mother dresses beautifully,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;What do
+you want her to look like?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should like her to look like some of those little cards on cigarette
+boxes, or like a picture post-card, if you want to know,&#8221; he admitted
+candidly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s absurd, Cliff.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, Bertha, some of the fellows&#8217; mothers do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Remember your mother is <i>Percy&#8217;s</i> mother, too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pickering&#8217;s mother doesn&#8217;t look much older than you,&#8221; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh&#8212;what a horrid woman!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled. &#8220;Why do you call her a horrid woman? For not looking older
+than you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! tell her to mind her own business, and not go interfering with me.
+I shall look whatever age I choose without consulting her!&#8221; Bertha
+pretended to pout and be offended, and went on reading for a little
+while.</p>
+
+<p>He took another chocolate and turned a page.</p>
+
+<p>She did not ask to see the book.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>&#8220;That&#8217;s what I call so jolly about you,&#8221; presently said Clifford. &#8220;When
+I come to see you, you don&#8217;t keep asking me questions, or giving me
+things, or advice, or anything. You do what you like, and I do what I
+like&#8212;I mean to say, we both do just what we like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; that&#8217;s the way to be pleasant companions,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;I go your
+way, and you go mine.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How&#8217;s Percy?&#8221; the boy asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy&#8217;s the same as usual. Only I fancy he seems a little depressed.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Presently Clifford looked up and said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Anyway, you&#8217;ll think it over, Bertha; and see what you decide to do
+about asking Pickering?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rather!&#8221; said Bertha, turning a page absently. &#8220;He&#8217;s rather a wonderful
+chap, then?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t he!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What sort?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What <i>sort</i>?&#8221; cried Clifford, dropping his book. &#8220;Why, Bertha, I was
+<i>with</i> him, <i>actually with him</i>, when he went into the country post
+office and asked the woman if she would let him have small change for
+ten shillings, and he found he hadn&#8217;t the half-sovereign then, but would
+pay her when he didn&#8217;t see her again! And then he said if she wouldn&#8217;t
+do that, he&#8217;d<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> like to buy some stamps, and asked if she&#8217;d show him some
+to choose from. And then he said&#8212;I saw him do it&#8212;&#8217;I&#8217;ll take those two
+in the middle&#8212;I like the colour.&#8217; When she said they were fivepence he
+said that was too expensive, and he couldn&#8217;t run to it. And then he
+wanted to buy some sweets&#8212;they sell everything at those country
+shops&#8212;and she wrapped some up for him, and then he said he hadn&#8217;t got a
+penny, and would she put it down to Lord Arthur&#8217;s account&#8212;that&#8217;s an
+uncle of his who didn&#8217;t know anything about it, and hadn&#8217;t got any
+account. And when she refused, fancy, Bertha! he asked if she&#8217;d take
+stamps, as she seemed fond of them, and when she said she would, he
+stamped twice on the floor and ran out of the shop, and I ran after him.
+She <i>was</i> angry!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He seems a useful boy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rather! His people are frightfully rich, you know,&#8221; went on Clifford.
+&#8220;When they tease him about it at school, he says he&#8217;s never allowed to
+use the same motor twice, and that they&#8217;re made of solid gold! He chaffs
+everybody.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Clifford murmured on rather disjointedly, and Bertha read without
+listening much, occasionally making some remark, when the telephone
+rang.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>Bertha had an extension on the little table next to her sofa.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Shall I go?&#8221; asked Clifford.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. Just to the other end of the room.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He obeyed, and fell into the depths of a fat arm-chair.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That you, Nigel? How is it all going on? Madeline hasn&#8217;t heard from him
+lately&#8212;not for ages.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quite so,&#8221; answered Nigel&#8217;s voice. &#8220;I&#8217;ve found out something I want you
+to know. It isn&#8217;t really serious&#8212;at least I&#8217;m pretty sure I can put it
+right, but I&#8217;d like to see you about it; it wouldn&#8217;t take you a moment.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But is it a thing that may make any difference?&#8221; she asked rather
+anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. Not if it&#8217;s taken in time,&#8221; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, can&#8217;t you &#8217;phone about it, Nigel?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not very well, my dear. It really wouldn&#8217;t take you a minute to hear
+about it <i>viva voce</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you can&#8217;t keep on calling every day!&#8221; cried Bertha, exasperated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quite so. Couldn&#8217;t you go in for a few minutes to-morrow morning at the
+Grosvenor Gallery in Bond Street? Say at about eleven or twelve? I won&#8217;t
+keep you five minutes, I promise, and you can tell me if you approve of
+my plan.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>&#8220;Very well, I&#8217;ll do that. Quarter-past eleven,&#8221; added Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Only one thing, Bertha, don&#8217;t tell anyone&#8212;not a soul.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll explain when I see you. But you mustn&#8217;t mention it. It&#8217;s
+nothing&#8212;two seconds.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, all right! But why so many mysteries? You might just as well tell
+me now on the telephone.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid I can&#8217;t; I have to show you a letter.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose Rupert has been seeing Moona Chivvey again? Is that it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, yes. But that&#8217;s not all. Not a word to Madeline! Isn&#8217;t it
+curious, Bertha, troubles about women are always the same. Either <i>they</i>
+want <i>you</i> to marry <i>them,</i> or <i>they</i> won&#8217;t marry <i>you</i>!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, really? Good-bye.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How brilliant you&#8217;re looking, Bertha! You&#8217;ve got your hair done in that
+mysterious new way again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How on <i>earth</i> can you know through the telephone?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, easily. By your voice. You talk in a different way&#8212;to suit it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do I? How funny! Good-bye.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>Ten minutes later Percy came in.</p>
+
+<p>He seemed pleased to see his young brother.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that book you&#8217;ve brought, Cliff?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s &#8216;The New Arabian Nights.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, I know&#8212;the copy I gave Bertha. Have you decided to let her
+have it back on mature consideration?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I say, Percy! Come off the roof, there&#8217;s a good chap,&#8221; said the
+boy, blushing a little.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I shall have to take a holiday from chambers to-morrow,&#8221; Percy
+said. &#8220;Shall we take him out to lunch, Bertha?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;By all means; or, at any rate, you take him, Percy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you engaged in the morning?&#8221; he asked her very quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I ought to look in at my dressmaker&#8217;s for a minute,&#8221; she said, feeling
+angry with Nigel that he had made her promise to conceal even a few
+minutes of her day.</p>
+
+<p>No more was said on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, Percy went upstairs to his room and turned the key. He then
+took out of a drawer and placed in front of him, in their order, three
+rather curious-looking letters, written in typewriting on ordinary plain
+white notepaper. The first two, both of which began &#8220;<i>Dear Mr.
+Kellynch</i>,&#8221; were four pages long,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> and gave some information in somewhat
+mysterious terms. The third one had no beginning, and merely mentioned
+an hour and a place where, he was told, he would find his wife on the
+following morning, if he wished to do so, in the company of an
+individual with the initials N. H. The letter further advised him to go
+there and find her and take steps to put a stop to the proceedings which
+had been watched for some time by somebody who signed the letter &#8220;your
+true and reliable friend.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>The right thing to do, according to all unwritten laws of the conduct of
+a gentleman, would be to destroy such communications and at once forget
+them. To show them to her, Percy felt, would be degrading to himself and
+to such a woman as his wife, whom he now realised he placed on a
+pedestal. The idea of seeing the pedestal rock seemed to take the earth
+from under his feet. But not only that, he now felt that, though he
+hadn&#8217;t known it, he loved her, not with a mild, half-patronising
+affection, but with the maddening jealousy of a lover in the most
+passionate stage of love. A man placed in his position nearly always
+thinks that it is the idea of being deceived that hurts the most.
+Particularly when the object of suspicion is his wife. Now he knew it
+was not that; he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> forgive the deception; but he couldn&#8217;t bear to
+think that any other man could think of her from that point of view at
+all. And if he found that the mere facts stated in the three letters
+were true, even if the inferences suggested were utterly false, he had
+made up his mind what to do. He would go and see Nigel on the subject,
+forbid him the house, saying that too frequent visits had caused talk,
+and never mention the subject to Bertha. That was his present plan.
+Perhaps it would not be possible to carry it out, but that was his idea.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>The fact that Bertha had been vague about her morning engagement&#8212;for it
+was really unlike her not to seem pleased at the idea of spending the
+whole day with him and the little brother&#8212;so agonised Percy that he
+pretended to have a headache and saw practically nothing of Bertha till
+the next day. He said then that he would go to chambers, meet Clifford
+at Prince&#8217;s and come home after lunch and take Bertha out somewhere.
+This was to leave her perfectly free, so that she need not alter any
+arrangements. He wished to see what she would do.</p>
+
+<p>It was a glorious morning, and Percy felt rather mean and miserable and
+unlike the day as he left the house.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>Bertha was already dressed, looking deliciously fresh and pink, and
+sparkling and fair as the sunshine. A second of acute physical jealousy
+made him remark rather bitterly before he left that her hat was a little
+bit striking, wasn&#8217;t it? Upon which she at once, in her good-tempered,
+amiable way (only too delighted that he should have noticed anything in
+her toilette even to object to it), plucked the white feather out of the
+black hat and put a little coat on over her dress, so as to look less
+noticeable.</p>
+
+<p>At a quarter past eleven Percy paid his shilling at the gallery, walked
+in, looking slowly at the drawings on the walls in the narrow passage
+that led to the rooms.</p>
+
+<p>The moment he reached the first door on the left-hand side, which was
+open, he saw through it, exactly opposite to him, seated on a sofa,
+Bertha, looking up and chattering to Nigel Hillier, who was looking down
+in a protecting manner, and listening with great interest to her
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Neither of them saw him.</p>
+
+<p>The pain of finding one part of the letter true was so startling and
+terrible that he dared not look another moment; a second more, and he
+might have made a scandal, perhaps for ever after to be regretted, and
+possibly entirely groundless.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>He walked straight out of the gallery again, and drove to Sloane Street
+in a taxi. During the drive he felt extraordinary sensations. He
+remembered an occasion when he had been to a dentist as a little boy,
+and the strange new suffering it had caused him. Then he thought that
+when he got home, he would feel better. Instead of that the sight of the
+familiar house was unbearable agony; he could not endure to go into it;
+he drove back again to the club of which both he and Nigel were members,
+and where Nigel was generally to be found before lunch. There he tried
+to wait and master himself a little; it was peculiar torture to have
+left them there now. He felt he would like to go back to the gallery and
+at least spoil their morning. But that, his sound sense told him, would
+be a mistake. He would wait there till Nigel came in.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>CHAPTER XII
+<br />
+<br />A LOVE SCENE</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">PERCY waited on and on, minute after minute, half-hour after half-hour,
+reading the morning papers, staring with apparent deep interest at the
+pictures in the weekly journals&#8212;rather depressing foreshortened
+snapshots of society at racecourses. These people, caught unawares,
+seemed to be all feet and parasols, or smiles and muffs. Then, feeling
+rather exhausted, he ordered a drink, and forgot it, and smoked a
+cigarette. When he saw anyone he knew, he put on an absent-minded air,
+and avoided the friend&#8217;s eye. He looked at his watch as if in sudden
+anxiety, and found that it was half-past one. This was the time he was
+to meet his little brother at Prince&#8217;s. He made inquiries and found that
+Nigel was expected to lunch at the club. It was horrible! He could not
+leave the boy at the restaurant waiting for him, and he was not up to
+the mark either, at the moment, for seeing Nigel Hillier; he felt as if
+the top of his head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> had been smashed in. Yet his common-sense and
+reasoning power gradually prevailed over his emotion. And as he sat
+there, Percy changed his mind.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>At first he had thought it would be cowardly to her to attack his wife
+on the subject; it was the man with whom he should quarrel. And now it
+seemed to him different. His point of view altered. It seemed only fair
+now to give Bertha herself a chance of explaining matters. Thinking of
+her fresh, frank expression that morning, and looking back, he began to
+have, by some sort of second sight, a vision of his own stupid
+injustice. No! he must have been wrong! Nigel may have been a scoundrel,
+or&#8212;anything&#8212;but it couldn&#8217;t be Bertha&#8217;s fault. She may have been
+imprudent, out of pure innocence; that was all.</p>
+
+<p>He got up, and now he decided to take his brother out to lunch, and then
+go back and talk to Bertha.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>During the noisy, crowded lunch at Prince&#8217;s, which entertained the boy
+so much that there was no necessity for the elder brother to talk, Percy
+came to a firm decision.</p>
+
+<p>He would never tell Bertha anything at all about the anonymous letters.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>He would tell her that he had seen her this morning at the gallery&#8212;as
+if by accident; but he would frankly admit a jealousy, even a suspicion
+of Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>He would ask Bertha in so many words not to see Nigel again.</p>
+
+<p>If she would agree to this, and if she were as affectionate as formerly,
+what did the rest matter? The letters must have been slanders; who
+<i>could</i> have written them? But, after all, what did it matter? If Bertha
+consented to do as he asked, they were untrue, and that was everything.
+He and Bertha would drop Hillier, and he would put the whole horrible
+business behind him; he would wipe it out, and forget it. The mere
+thought of such joy made him tremble &#8230; it seemed too glorious to be
+real, and as they approached the house again he began to believe in it.</p>
+
+<p>Clifford had thoroughly enjoyed himself. He felt quite grown-up as he
+parted with Percy at Sloane Street, and drove home, singing to himself
+the refrain of Pickering&#8217;s favourite song: &#8220;How much wood would a
+woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck would chuck wood?&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy, what is the matter?&#8221; Bertha asked anxiously, as she looked at
+him.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>He had gone through a great deal that morning and looked rather worn
+out. &#8230; He spoke in a lower voice than usual.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look here, Bertha,&#8221; he said, &#8220;I have something to tell you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She waited, then, at a pause, said, rather pathetically:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Percy, do tell me what it is? I&#8217;ve felt so worried about you
+lately. You seem to be changed. &#8230; I have felt very pained and hurt.
+Tell me what it is.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy looked at her. She was looking sweet, anxious and sincere. She
+leant forward, holding out her little hand. &#8230; If this was not genuine,
+then nothing on earth ever could be!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tell me, Percy,&#8221; she repeated, looking up at him, as he stood by the
+fire, with that little movement of her fair head that he used to say was
+like a canary.</p>
+
+<p>Percy looked down at her; all his imposingness, all his air of
+importance, and his occasional tinge of pompousness, had entirely
+vanished. He was simple, angry and unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I found I hadn&#8217;t got to go to chambers early this morning after all, so
+I walked down Bond Street. I went into the Grosvenor Gallery. I saw you
+there. &#8230; It seemed very strange you hadn&#8217;t told me. Why didn&#8217;t you?
+Why<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> didn&#8217;t you? Bertha, don&#8217;t tell me anything that isn&#8217;t true!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes sparkled. She stood up beaming radiant joy. She went to him
+impulsively; everything was all right; he was jealous!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Percy! I can explain it all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Hastily, eagerly, impulsively, with the most obvious honesty and
+frankness, she told him of how Nigel had promised to help her with
+Madeline, of how he had planned with her to make Madeline happy; she
+told him of the variable and unaccountable conduct of Rupert Denison to
+Madeline, of his marked attention at one moment, his coldness at
+another. Foolishly, she had been led to believe that Nigel could make
+things all right. Now this morning Nigel had asked her to meet him to
+tell her that Rupert had been seen choosing hats for another girl.
+Bertha was in doubt whether she ought to tell Madeline, and make her try
+and cure her devotion. And Bertha had thought it all the kinder of Nigel
+because his brother, Charlie, was very much in love with her.</p>
+
+<p>Percy stopped her in the middle of the story. He could take no sort of
+interest in it at present. He was much too happy and relieved; he was in
+the seventh heaven.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes &#8230; yes &#8230; all right, dear. Only you oughtn&#8217;t to have made an
+appointment with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> him. Only promise that never again&#8212;&#8212; You see, things
+can be misconstrued. And, anyhow, I don&#8217;t like to see you with Nigel
+Hillier. Frankly, I can&#8217;t stand it. You&#8217;ll make this sacrifice for
+me&#8212;if it is one, Bertha?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He had quite decided to conceal all about the letters.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed, indeed I will; and I know I was wrong,&#8221; she said. &#8220;I mean it&#8217;s
+no good trying to help people too much. They must play their own game.
+You understand, don&#8217;t you? Nigel was only to show me a letter he had
+written inviting the other girl to lunch&#8212;to take her away from Rupert.
+But it&#8217;s all nonsense, and I&#8217;ll have nothing more to do with it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then that&#8217;s all right,&#8221; said Percy, sitting down, with a great sigh of
+relief.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You didn&#8217;t really think for a moment, seriously, that I ever&#8212;that I
+didn&#8217;t&#8212;oh, you never stopped knowing how much I love you?&#8221; she asked,
+with tears in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Percy said that he had not exactly thought that. Also, he was not
+jealous&#8212;that was not the word&#8212;he merely wished her to promise never to
+see or speak to Nigel again as long as they lived, and never to
+recognise him if she met him: that was all. He was perfectly
+reasonable.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>&#8220;It&#8217;s perhaps a little bit difficult in some ways, dearest. But I
+promise you faithfully to do my very, very best. And this I absolutely
+swear&#8212;I will never see him without your approving and knowing all about
+it. But as I shouldn&#8217;t exactly like him to think you thought anything&#8212;I
+mean&#8212;I think you must leave it a little to me&#8212;to my tact, to get rid
+of him; and trust me. And I want you to know that I shouldn&#8217;t care if I
+never saw him again. I don&#8217;t even like him. And I really don&#8217;t think he
+cares for me; I&#8217;m quite certain it&#8217;s your fancy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Can you give me your word of honour that he never&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never, by word or look,&#8221; answered Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all right,&#8221; said Percy.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Bertha sat on the arm of his chair and leant her head against his
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment he thought he had never known what happiness was before.</p>
+
+<p>Then she said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s all right now, then, Percy? That was all, and the cloud&#8217;s gone?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quite, absolutely,&#8221; he answered, mentally tearing the letters into
+little bits.</p>
+
+<p>Then she said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy, of course you never really thought &#8230; you never could think
+that I meant to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> deceive you in any way. &#8230; But supposing Nigel had had
+any treacherous ideas&#8212;let us say, supposing that Nigel, though he&#8217;s
+married, and all that&#8212;suppose you found out that he had liked me, and
+wanted to spoil our happiness? &#8230; I mean, suppose you found out that he
+had been making love to me? &#8230; What would you have done?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should have killed him,&#8221; replied Percy. Could a man have said
+anything that would please a woman as much as this primitive assertion?</p>
+
+<p>Bertha threw her arms round his neck. She was perfectly happy. He was in
+love with her.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII
+<br />
+<br />RECONCILIATION</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">BERTHA decided it was better to curtail Nigel&#8217;s visits and make them
+fewer gradually; she had quite convinced Percy of her sincerity, and he
+also had come to the conclusion that it would be foolish and <i>infra dig</i>
+to let the jealousy be suspected. He trusted her again now; and they
+were both deeply and intensely happy. Being ashamed of the letters,
+Percy said nothing about them; in a day or two he had come to the
+conclusion that he would leave it entirely to Bertha&#8217;s tact.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All I ask is,&#8221; he said, &#8220;that you will see him as little and as seldom
+as you can, without making too much fuss about it, or letting him know
+what I thought.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I promise to do that,&#8221; she said. &#8220;I long never to see him again.
+It&#8217;s only on account of Madeline I wanted to have one more little talk
+with him&#8212;about her and Rupert. After that I&#8217;ll manage without him, I
+assure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> you. I swear not to give him anything more to do for me. But
+what I can&#8217;t understand, dear, is what put the idea into your head.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never mind. You were seeing him too often. And, remember, I know that
+he was in love with you once and wanted to marry you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, dear boy, that was ten years ago, and he married somebody else.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Which he may regret by now. Well, I trust all to your tact, Bertha.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s coming to-day,&#8221; Bertha said. &#8220;And then I&#8217;m going to make him
+understand I no longer want his help.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy went out, looking very happy. He did not forget to kiss her now,
+and he himself had sent the large basket of flowers that Nigel nearly
+fell over when he came in the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A new admirer?&#8221; asked Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, an old one. So you say that you met Rupert buying a hat for Miss
+Chivvey, and saw them the next day walking together, and she was wearing
+it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. And, as I told you, I thought this rather serious, so I wrote and
+invited the young lady to lunch with me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did she accept?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>&#8220;That is what I&#8217;ve come to tell you about to-day. She was engaged, but
+asked me to invite her another time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Exactly. Now, Nigel, I want to tell you something. I think I&#8217;ve been
+doing wrong intriguing for Madeline, and it hasn&#8217;t been fair to her
+really. I&#8217;ve decided to tell her what you told me about Rupert, and then
+leave things to take their course. And I oughtn&#8217;t to countenance asking
+the other girl to lunch. It was horrid of me&#8212;I&#8217;m ashamed of myself,
+both on account of her and of Mary. Don&#8217;t do it; I&#8217;d rather not.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel looked up at her sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do these sudden and violent scruples mean simply that you don&#8217;t want me
+any more?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A little,&#8221; she replied.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve noticed you&#8217;ve seemed very cold and unkind to me the last week or
+so,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You seem to be trying to change our relations.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see why we should have any relations,&#8221; answered Bertha. &#8220;After
+all, I know instinctively that Mary doesn&#8217;t like me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What in heaven&#8217;s name does that matter?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A good deal to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment&#8217;s silence.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel looked surprised and more hurt than she would have expected. Then
+he said:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>&#8220;All right, Bertha. I hope I can take a hint. I won&#8217;t bother you any
+more. I won&#8217;t try to help you in anything till you ask me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was silent.</p>
+
+<p>Then he went on:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Might I venture to ask whether you suspect I&#8217;ve been making the most of
+our plans for Madeline to see as much of you as I could?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I didn&#8217;t say that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you had, perhaps you would have been right,&#8221; he said, but seeing her
+annoyed expression he changed his tone, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, my dear, truly I only wanted to do a good turn for you and your
+friend. It&#8217;s off now, that&#8217;s all. I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t interfere again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He stood up.</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated for one moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think Rupert has not been sincere with Madeline?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t say. I wouldn&#8217;t go so far as that. I think he varies&#8212;likes the
+contrast between the two. But if he decides to marry, I don&#8217;t think he&#8217;d
+propose to Miss Chivvey. Well, good-bye. I won&#8217;t call again till you ask
+me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Her look of obvious relief as she smilingly held out her hand piqued him
+into saying:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I see you want your time to yourself more. Before I go, will you answer
+me one little question?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>&#8220;Of course I will.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He still held her hand. She took it away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What is the question?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who sent you those flowers, Bertha?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have you any right to ask?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think so&#8212;as an old friend. They&#8217;re compromisingly large, and there&#8217;s
+a strange mixture of orchids and forget-me-nots, roses and gardenias
+that I don&#8217;t quite like. It looks like somebody almost wildly
+lavish&#8212;not anxious to show off his taste, but sincerely throwing his
+whole soul into the basket.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She laughed, pleased.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who sent you the flowers, Bertha?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He was standing up by the door.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy,&#8221; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh!&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV
+<br />
+<br />&#8220;TANGO&#8221;</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">MADELINE had taken the gossip about Rupert and Miss Chivvey very
+bravely, but very seriously. It pained her terribly, but she was
+grateful to Bertha for telling her.</p>
+
+<p>A fortnight passed, during which she heard nothing from Rupert, and then
+one morning, the day after a dance, she called to see Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>Percy had had no more anonymous letters, and Nigel had remained away. He
+was deeply grateful, for he supposed Bertha had managed with perfect
+tact to stop the talk without giving herself away, or making him
+ridiculous.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha had never looked happier in her life. She was sitting smiling to
+herself, apparently in a dream, when her friend came in.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bertha,&#8221; she said, &#8220;I have some news. I danced the tango with Nigel&#8217;s
+brother Charlie last night, and at the end&#8212;he really does dance
+divinely&#8212;what do you think happened? I had gone there perfectly
+miserable, for I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> seen and heard nothing of Mr. Denison except that
+one letter after the Ballet&#8212;and then Charlie proposed to me, and I
+accepted him, like in a book!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear Madeline, how delightful! This is what I&#8217;ve always wanted. It&#8217;s
+so utterly satisfactory in every way.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know, and he is a darling boy. I was very frank with him, Bertha. I
+didn&#8217;t say I was in love with him, and he said he would teach me to be.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s frightfully satisfactory,&#8221; continued Bertha. &#8220;Tell me Madeline,
+what made you change like this?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, dear, I&#8217;ve been getting so unhappy: I feel Rupert has been simply
+playing with me. I heard the other day that <i>they</i> were dining out alone
+together&#8212;I mean Rupert and that girl. I don&#8217;t blame him, Bertha. It was
+I, in a sense, who threw myself at his head. I admired and liked him and
+gradually let myself go and get silly about him. But this last week I&#8217;ve
+been pulling myself together and seeing how hopeless it was, and just as
+I&#8217;d begun to conquer my feeling&#8212;to fight it down&#8212;then this nice dear
+boy, so frank and straightforward and sincere, came along, and&#8212;oh! I
+thought I should like it. To stop at home with mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> after my sort of
+disappointment seemed too flat and miserable: I couldn&#8217;t bear it. Now I
+shall have an object in life. But, Bertha,&#8221; continued Madeline, putting
+her head on her shoulder, &#8220;I&#8217;ve been absolutely frank, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I guessed you would be; it was like you. But I hope you didn&#8217;t say too
+much to Charlie. It would be a pity to cloud his pleasure and spoil the
+sparkle of the fun. By the time you&#8217;re choosing carpets together and
+receiving your third cruet-stand you will have forgotten such a person
+as Rupert Denison exists&#8212;except as a man who played a sort of
+character-part in the curtain-raiser of your existence.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I hope so. But I did tell Charlie I was not in love with him, and
+he said he would try to make me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I only hope that you&#8217;re not doing it so that your mother should ask
+Rupert to the wedding? Not that I myself sha&#8217;n&#8217;t enjoy that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Honestly, Bertha, I don&#8217;t think so. More than anything it&#8217;s because I
+want an object in life.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here&#8217;s a letter from Nigel,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;I expect he&#8217;ll be making
+this an excuse to drop in again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but you mustn&#8217;t tease Percy, because everything happened just as
+you wanted it to,&#8221; said Madeline. &#8220;I really was surprised at how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+suddenly and determinedly Charlie began again. He had seemed almost to
+give me up. He dances the tango so beautifully; I think it all came
+through that. We got on so splendidly at tango teas. At any rate, but
+for that I shouldn&#8217;t have seen him so often.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a tango marriage,&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Bertha strongly suspected a little man&#339;uvring of Nigel&#8217;s in the
+course of the last fortnight, but did not realise how much there had
+been of it. The day Bertha had practically said he was not to interfere
+any longer, Nigel thoroughly realised that Percy must be jealous. He was
+wildly annoyed at this, since it would be a great obstacle, besides
+proving Percy was in love, but he saw the urgency of falling in at once
+with her wish; not opposing it, being absolutely obedient to it. This
+was not the moment to push himself forward&#8212;to show his feelings. Tact
+and diplomacy must be used. Of course, he had not the faintest notion
+about Mary and her letters, but merely thought that a sudden relapse of
+conjugal affection on Percy&#8217;s side&#8212;confound him!&#8212;and an attack of
+unwonted jealousy had made Percy say something to Bertha to cause her
+coldness.</p>
+
+<p>He remained away, but he thought of more than one plan to regain the old
+intimacy.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>Quite unscrupulously he played several little tricks, at least he made
+several remarks about one to the other, to make the apparently
+hesitating Rupert more interested in Miss Chivvey and less so in
+Madeline, while he urged his brother Charlie on, and insisted on his
+continuing his court. The result was quicker than he had expected, and
+after a very little diplomacy Charlie had found Madeline willing to
+accept him. As Madeline was to Bertha just like a sister, it was natural
+that they should meet again now, and in this letter Nigel asked
+permission to call and have a chat.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha agreed, for although she was slightly on her guard against the
+possibility of his wishing to flirt, she had not the faintest idea, as I
+have said, of Nigel&#8217;s determined resolve.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel had been fairly unhappy of late. Caring very little for any of his
+other friends, and having this <i>id&#233;e fixe</i> about Bertha&#8212;which became
+much stronger at the opposition and the idea of Percy&#8217;s jealousy&#8212;he
+moped a good deal and had spent more time than usual with Mary. Nigel
+was one of those very rare men, who are becoming rarer and rarer, who,
+having passed the age of thirty-five, still regard love as the principal
+object of life. That Nigel did so was what made him so immensely popular
+with women as a rule. Women feel instinctively<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> when this is so, and the
+man who makes sport, ambition or art his first interest, and women, and
+romance in general, a mere secondary pleasure, is never regarded with
+nearly the same favour as the man who values women chiefly, even though
+that very man is naturally far less reliable in his affection and almost
+invariably deceives them. To be placed in the background of life is what
+the average woman dislikes the most; she would rather be of the first
+importance as a woman even if she knows she has many rivals.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha was exceptional, in that she did not care for the Don Juan type
+of man, but was rather inclined to despise him. She would far rather
+have ambition, business, art, duty, any other object in life as her
+rival, than another woman.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Percy received no more of the singular typewritten letters. He kept
+those that he had locked up in a box. Mary had grown a little frightened
+at the apparent success of those she sent. She never heard anything
+about them, but she knew that Nigel had not been seeing Bertha since the
+note about the picture gallery. She began to be happier again. Nigel was
+a great deal more at home, though not more affectionate. And Mary was
+one of those women, by no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> means infrequent, who are fairly satisfied if
+they can, by hook or by crook, by any trick or any tyranny, keep the man
+they care for somehow under the same roof with them&#8212;if only his body is
+in the house, even if they know it is against his will, and that his
+soul is far away. She would far rather that his desire was elsewhere, if
+only <i>he</i> were positively present&#8212;the one dread, really, being that he
+should be enjoying himself with anyone else. Mary preferred a thousand
+times a silent, sulky evening with Nigel going up to his room about the
+same time that she went to hers, than, as he used to be when they were
+first married, gay, affectionate and caressing to her, and then going
+out. She would gladly make him a kind of prisoner, even at the cost of
+making him almost dislike her, rather than give him his freedom&#8212;even to
+please him&#8212;a freedom which included the possibility of his seeing
+Bertha again.</p>
+
+<p>Although she was unjust and mistaken in her facts, it was, of course, a
+correct instinct that made her aware that Bertha was the great
+attraction&#8212;the one real object of passion in Nigel&#8217;s life. But she was
+incapable of believing that Bertha did not care for him, that if she had
+she would never have flirted with the husband of another woman. Merely
+because Bertha was pretty and admired, Mary, with her strange<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
+narrow-minded bitterness, took it for granted that it was impossible
+that she could be also a delicately scrupulous, generous, and
+high-minded creature. But just as passion will make one singularly
+quick-sighted, it can also make one dense and stupid. Considering that
+Mary was madly in love with her own husband, it was absurd she should
+suppose it impossible that Bertha should take the slightest interest in
+hers. Of course Mary had heard that they were very devoted&#8212;if she had
+not, what would have been the use of writing the letters?&#8212;but she chose
+to believe that it was only on the husband&#8217;s side, and that Bertha must
+of necessity be, of course, sly and deceitful. She hated Bertha
+violently, and yet she was by nature the kindest of women; only this one
+mania of hers completely altered her, and made her bitter, wild, hard
+and unscrupulous, stupid and clever, cowardly and reckless. A woman&#8217;s
+jealousy of another woman is always sufficiently dreadful, but when the
+object of jealousy is hers by legal right, when the sense of personal
+property is added to it, then it is one of the most terrible and
+unreasonable things in nature.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>CHAPTER XV
+<br />
+<br />CLIFFORD&#8217;S HISTORICAL PLAY</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">BERTHA was sitting with her little brother-in-law. She was to give him
+half-an-hour, after which she expected a visit from Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What on earth is it, old boy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She saw he had some rather untidy papers in his hand and was looking
+extremely self-conscious, so she spoke kindly and encouragingly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I daresay you noticed, Bertha, in my report, that history was
+very good.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I did,&#8221; she said gravely. &#8220;If I recollect right the report
+said: &#8216;History nearly up to the level of the form.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I say, was that all? Gracious! Well, anyhow, I&#8217;ve read a lot of
+history, and I&#8217;m fearfully keen about it. And, I say, my idea was, you
+see, I thought I&#8217;d write a historical play.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! what a splendid idea!&#8221; cried Bertha, jumping up, looking very
+pleased, but serious. &#8220;Have you got it there, Cliff?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>&#8220;Yes. Well, as a matter of fact, I have got a bit of it here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you going to let me read it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t think you can,&#8221; he answered rather na&#239;vely. &#8220;It&#8217;s not
+quite clean enough; but I&#8217;ll read a bit of it to you, if you don&#8217;t mind.
+Er&#8212;you see&#8212;it&#8217;s about Mary.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Which Mary?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Bertha! what a question! As if I&#8217;d write about William and Mary,
+or&#8212;er&#8212;er&#8212;I beg your pardon&#8212;I mean the other Mary. No, Mary, Queen of
+Scots, is the only one who&#8217;s any good for a play.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, go on, Clifford.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, it&#8217;s a little about&#8221;&#8212;he spoke in a low, gruff voice&#8212;&#8220;at least
+partly about hawking. You know, the thing historical people used to
+do&#8212;on their wrists.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, I know, I know! I beg your pardon, Clifford.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;With birds, you know,&#8221; he went on. &#8220;Oh, and I wanted to ask you, what
+time of the year <i>do</i> people hawk?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What time of the year? Oh, well, I should think almost any time, pretty
+well, whenever they liked, or whenever it was the fashion.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I see.&#8221; He made a note. &#8220;Well, I hope you won&#8217;t be fearfully bored,
+Bertha.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>&#8220;I say, Cliff, don&#8217;t apologise so much. Get on with it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, you see, it&#8217;s a scene at a country inn to begin with.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, I see. Yes, it would be,&#8221; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;At a country inn, and this is how it begins. It&#8217;s at a country inn, you
+see. &#8216;Scene: a country inn. The mistress of the inn, a buxom-looking
+woman of middle age, is being busy about the inn. It is a country inn.
+She is making up the fire, polishing tankards, etc., drawing ale, etc.
+On extreme L. of stage is seated, near a tankard, a youth of some
+nineteen summers, who is sitting facing the audience, chin dropped, and
+apparently wrapped in thought.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Excuse me a moment, old chap, but that sounds as if his chin was
+wrapped in thought.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So it does; I&#8217;ll change that. Thanks awfully for telling me, Bertha.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not at all, dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But it is frightfully decent of you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right. Get on.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;At the back of the stage R. are seated two men; one of some eight and
+twenty summers the other of some six and twenty years old. They are
+seated in the corners of the stage and in apparently earnest
+conversation.&#8217; (Now the dialogue begins, Bertha, listen):</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>&#8220;&#8216;<span class="smcap">Youth:</span> Are you there, mistress? Is my ale nigh on ready? Zounds, I&#8217;m
+mighty thirsty, I am.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;<span class="smcap">Mistress:</span> Ay, ay, great Scot! here&#8217;s your ale. You can&#8217;t expect to be
+served before the quality.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What did Pickering think of this?&#8221; interrupted Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pickering! Oh! I wouldn&#8217;t show it to a chap like that. At any rate, not
+unless you think it&#8217;s all right, Bertha.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, my dear boy, you&#8217;d better tell me the plot, I think, before you
+read me any more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Nigel Hillier,&#8221; announced the servant.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel sprang brightly in (just a little agitated though he managed to
+hide it), Bertha took her toes off the sofa, Clifford took up his play
+and shoved it into his pocket with a slight scowl.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI
+<br />
+<br />A SECOND PROPOSAL</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">THE day after Madeline&#8217;s engagement two letters were handed to her. One
+in Charlie&#8217;s handwriting, short and affectionate; full of the exuberance
+of the newly affianced, touchingly happy. The other one she opened,
+feeling somewhat moved, as she recognised the handwriting of Rupert
+Denison. To her utter astonishment she found it was four sheets of his
+exquisite little handwriting, and it began thus:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">My dear, my very dear Madeline</span>,&#8212;The last note I had from you&#8212;now
+nearly a month ago&#8212;came to me like a gift of silver roses. I did
+not answer it, but during the dark days in which I have not seen
+you, I have been learning to know myself. You wondered, perhaps, how
+I was occupied, why you did not hear from me again&#8212;at least I hope
+you did. (&#8220;I didn&#8217;t, for I knew only too well,&#8221; Madeline murmured to
+herself.) Now I have learnt to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> understand myself. Sometimes almost
+inhumanly poetic you have seemed to me, and others; when I
+remembered your simple refined beauty you suggested the homelike
+atmosphere that is my dream.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>She started and went on reading.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;Madeline, do you understand, all this time, though perhaps I hardly
+knew it myself, I loved you. I love you and shall never change. It
+is my instinct to adore the admirable, and I know now that you are
+the most adorable of creatures. No words can describe your
+wonderfulness, so I send you my heart instead.</p>
+
+<p class="nb">&#8220;I think, dear, our life together will be a very beautiful one. It
+will be a great joy to me to lead you into beautiful paths. How glad
+I shall be to see the bright look of your eyes, when you greet me
+after this letter! What a perfect companion you will be! Write at
+once. I have much more to say when we meet. When shall this be? Your
+ever devoted and idolising</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">&#8220;Rupert.</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>P.S.</i>&#8212;I propose not to make our engagement public quite yet, but
+to keep our happiness to ourselves for a few weeks, and be married
+towards the end of the summer. What do you say, my precious
+Madeline?&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>Madeline was at once delighted and horrified. How characteristic the
+letter was! Why had she not waited? There was no doubt about it, she had
+made a mistake. Rupert was the man she loved&#8212;notwithstanding his taking
+everything so for granted. Charlie must be sacrificed. But she must tell
+Rupert what had happened, of course.</p>
+
+<p>After sending a telegram to Rupert asking him to meet her at a picture
+gallery, for she could not bear asking him to call until everything was
+settled up, the bewildered girl rushed off to see Bertha.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Bertha took in the situation at once. Madeline had only accepted Charlie
+in despair, thinking and believing that Rupert cared for another girl.
+It was madness, equally unfair to herself and to Charlie, to go on with
+the marriage now. Bertha quite agreed, though she grieved for the boy,
+and regretted how things had turned. &#8230; But, after all, Madeline cared
+for Rupert and she could not be expected to throw away her happiness now
+it was offered to her.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha advised complete frankness all round. The only thing at which she
+hesitated a little was Madeline&#8217;s intention of telling of her engagement
+to Rupert. She feared a little the effect on the complicated subtlety of
+that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> conscientious young man. &#8230; However, it was to be.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately no one as yet knew of the engagement except the very nearest
+relatives. Madeline&#8217;s mother would only regret bitterly that Madeline
+could not accept them both, it being very rare nowadays for two
+agreeable and eligible young men to propose to one girl in two days.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel was furious and had no patience with these choppings and
+changings, as he called them.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie took it bravely and wrote Madeline a very generous and noble
+letter, which touched her, but it did not alter her intention. She had
+just received it when she went to meet Rupert.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>The day which had dragged on with extraordinary excitement and with what
+seemed curious length had just declined in that hour between six and
+seven when the vitality seems to become somewhat lowered; when it is
+neither day nor evening, the stimulation of tea is over and one has not
+begun to dress for dinner.</p>
+
+<p>At this strange moment Madeline burst in again on Bertha and said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bertha, isn&#8217;t it terrible! I&#8217;ve told him everything and he refuses me.
+He&#8217;s sent me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> back. He says if I&#8217;m engaged to Charlie it&#8217;s my duty to
+marry him. He&#8217;s fearfully hurt with me and shocked at my conduct to
+Charlie. Oh, it&#8217;s too dreadful; I&#8217;m heartbroken!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, what an irritating creature!&#8221; cried Bertha. &#8220;It&#8217;s just the sort of
+thing he would do. I&#8217;d better see him at once, Madeline.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You can&#8217;t; he&#8217;s going to Venice to-night,&#8221; said Madeline, and burst
+into tears.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII
+<br />
+<br />MORE ABOUT RUPERT</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">RUPERT had gone through a great many changes during the last few weeks.
+He had begun to grow rather captivated by Miss Chivvey and in his
+efforts to polish, refine and educate her had become rather carried away
+himself. But towards the end she began to show signs of rebellion; she
+was bored, though impressed. He took her to a serious play and explained
+it all the time, during which she openly yawned. Finally, when she
+insisted on his seeing a statuette made of her by her artistic friend,
+an ignorant, pretentious little creature, known as Mimsie, they
+positively had a quarrel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t care what you say; I think it&#8217;s very pretty,&#8221; when Rupert
+pointed out faults that a child could easily have seen.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So it may be, my dear child&#8212;not that I think it is. But it&#8217;s
+absolutely without merit; it&#8217;s very very bad. It could hardly be worse.
+If she went all over London I doubt if she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> could find a more ridiculous
+thing calling itself a work of art. Can&#8217;t you see it&#8217;s like those little
+figures they used to have on old-fashioned Twelfth Cakes, made of
+sugar.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I can&#8217;t. Shut up! I mayn&#8217;t know quite so much as you, but ever
+since I was a child everybody&#8217;s always said I was very artistic.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They were sitting in her mother&#8217;s drawing-room in Camden Hill. Rupert
+glanced round it: it was a deplorable example of misdirected aims and
+mistaken ambitions; a few yards of beaded curtains which separated it
+from another room gratified Moona with the satisfactory sensation that
+her surroundings were Oriental. As a matter of fact, the decoration was
+so commonplace and vulgar that to attempt to describe it would be
+painful to the writer whilst having no sort of effect on the reader,
+since it was almost indescribable. From the decorative point of view,
+the room was the most unmeaning of failures, the most complete of
+disasters.</p>
+
+<p>Rupert had hoped, nevertheless, to cultivate her taste, and educate her
+generally. He was most anxious of all to explain to her that, so far
+from being artistic, she was the most pretentious of little Philistines.
+Why, indeed, should she be anything else? It was the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> irritating
+absurdity that she should think she was, or wish to be.</p>
+
+<p>Rupert was growing weary of this, and beginning to think his object was
+hopeless.</p>
+
+<p>A certain amount of excitement that she had created in him by her
+brusque rudeness, her high spirits, even the jarring of her loud laugh,
+was beginning to lose its effect; or rather the effect was changed.
+Instead of attracting, it irritated him.</p>
+
+<p>About another small subject they had a quarrel&#8212;she was beginning to
+order him about, to regard him as her young man, her property&#8212;and was
+getting accustomed to what had surprised her at first&#8212;that he didn&#8217;t
+make love to her. She had ordered him to take her somewhere and he had
+refused on the ground that he wanted to stop at home and think!</p>
+
+<p>She let herself go, and when Moona Chivvey lost her temper it was not
+easily forgotten. She insulted him, called him a blighter, a silly ass,
+a mass of affectation.</p>
+
+<p>He accepted it with gallant irony, bowing with a chivalrous humility
+that drove her nearly mad, but he never spoke to her again.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Perhaps nothing less than this violent scene would have shaken Rupert
+into examining his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> own feelings, and with a tremendous rebound he saw
+that he was in love with Madeline, and decided to marry her at once. How
+delighted the dear child would be!</p>
+
+<p>He had seen very little of her lately, and he appreciated her all the
+more.</p>
+
+<p>In her was genuine desire for culture; longing to learn; real refinement
+and intelligence, charm and grace, if not exactly beauty. Ah, those
+sweet, sincere brown eyes! Rupert would live to see her all she should
+be, and there was not the slightest doubt about her happiness with him.
+It never occurred to him for a single moment that anyone else could have
+been trying to take his place. Far less still that she should have
+thought of listening to any other man on earth but himself. When she
+came and told him all that had happened, the shock was great. He had
+never cared for her so much. But he declined to allow her to break her
+engagement; she could not play fast and loose with this unfortunate
+young man, Charlie Hillier, and although she declared, with tears, that
+she should break it off in any case, and never see him again, Rupert
+kept to his resolution, and started for Paris that night.</p>
+
+<p>In answer to one more passionate and pathetic letter from her, he
+consented to write to her as a friend in a fortnight, but he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> she
+must have known her own mind when she accepted Charlie.</p>
+
+<p>Rupert clearly felt that he had been very badly treated; he said he
+never would have thought it of her; it was practically treachery.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>When he went away he felt very tired, and had had enough, for the
+present, at any rate, of all girls and their instruction. Girls were
+fools.</p>
+
+<p>He looked forward to the soothing consolations of the gaieties of Paris.
+He was not the first to believe that he could leave all his troubles and
+tribulations this side of the Channel.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII
+<br />
+<br />&#8220;A SPECIAL FAVOUR&#8221;</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="Open quote" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap">I ADMIRE Madeline&#8217;s conduct very much. I think it was splendid how she
+stood up to all the reproaches, and even ridicule; she told me that she
+had once, and only once, in her life been untrue to herself (she meant
+in accepting Charlie), and since then she has spoken the absolute truth
+to everybody about it all. She has been very plucky, and very
+straightforward, and only good can come of it. Honesty and pluck,
+especially for a girl&#8212;it&#8217;s made so difficult for girls&#8212;they&#8217;re the
+finest things in the world, <i>I</i> think.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha was speaking to Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>He had remained away for what seemed to him an extraordinarily long
+time. He was afraid that she was slipping out of his life, without even
+noticing it. Stopping away until she missed him was a complete failure,
+since she <i>didn&#8217;t</i> miss him. And the day was approaching for the party
+Mary had consented to give.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> He knew that Bertha had accepted but was
+afraid she didn&#8217;t mean to come. That would be too sickening! To have all
+that worry with Mary, all that silly trouble and fuss for a foolish
+entertainment that he detested, all for nothing at all! And Mary was
+secretly enjoying the fact that she felt absolutely certain Percy would
+never let her come to Nigel&#8217;s house. She did not suppose Percy had
+guessed the writer of the letters; but he must have thought his wife was
+talked about, and some effect certainly they had had; for in the last
+few weeks, she happened to know for a fact, Nigel had neither called on
+or met Mrs. Kellynch. This afternoon she knew nothing of, for her
+suspicions were beginning to fade, and she was not, at present, having
+him followed. Nigel had taken his chance and dropped in to tea and found
+luck was on his side&#8212;Bertha had just come in from a drive with
+Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s all very well,&#8221; he answered, &#8220;to say you admire her conduct, her
+bravery, and all that! Whom had she to fight against? Only her mother,
+whom she isn&#8217;t a bit afraid of, and Charlie, who, poor chap, is more
+afraid of her. The engagement wasn&#8217;t even public before she broke it
+off.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but, Nigel, it was very frank of her to tell everything so openly
+to Charlie. And now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> poor girl, she&#8217;s very unhappy, but very
+courageous&#8212;she&#8217;s absolutely resolved never to marry. She says she&#8217;s
+lost her Rupert by her own faults, and it serves her right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And suppose Rupert goes teaching English to an Italian girl at Venice,
+or gives her history lessons, or anything? Now he&#8217;s once thought of
+marrying, he may marry his third pupil. Wouldn&#8217;t Charlie have a chance
+then?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never, unfortunately,&#8221; Bertha replied.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think she&#8217;d wait on the chance that Rupert might have a
+divorce?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nigel, how horrid you are to sneer like that. You never appreciated
+Madeline!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I did, my dear, considering I was especially keen on her
+marrying my brother, even when I knew she liked somebody else.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that was only for him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Or, perhaps, do you think a little for me? I might have felt if my
+brother married your greatest friend that we were sort of relations,&#8221; he
+said, with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha glanced at the clock.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You can&#8217;t send me away just this minute,&#8221; he said. &#8220;You like honesty
+and frankness, and I&#8217;ve honestly come to ask you&#8212;are you coming to my
+party?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha paused a moment.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>&#8220;Why?&#8221; she said. &#8220;Do you very particularly want me to?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very. And I&#8217;ll tell you the reason. It&#8217;s to please Mary.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why should Mary care?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bertha, I give you my word that she&#8217;ll be terribly disappointed and
+offended if you don&#8217;t. And&#8221;&#8212;he waited a moment&#8212;&#8220;I hardly know how to
+explain&#8212;it&#8217;ll do me harm if you don&#8217;t come&#8212;you and Percy. I can&#8217;t
+exactly explain. Do me this good turn, Bertha. A special favour, won&#8217;t
+you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He was artfully trying to suggest what he supposed to be the exact
+contrary to the fact. He knew Mary would be wild with joy if Bertha did
+not come, though he had no idea how extremely astonished and furious she
+would be if she should arrive, considering she had accepted. Of course
+in reality Mary thought nothing of the acceptance. She was both certain
+and determined that her &#8220;door would not be darkened&#8221; by Bertha&#8217;s
+presence.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha had not intended to go since she saw Percy&#8217;s pleasure and relief
+at the cessation of the intimacy. But now? After all, Percy couldn&#8217;t
+mind going in with her for a few minutes if she begged him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you tell me it&#8217;ll do you a good turn, Nigel&#8212;but I don&#8217;t
+understand!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>&#8220;Do you wish me to explain?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I don&#8217;t. I&#8217;ll take your word. But all the more I don&#8217;t want you to
+be always calling. I&#8217;m afraid Mary doesn&#8217;t like me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It isn&#8217;t that exactly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha thought of her own happiness with Percy. Her warm, kind heart
+made her say gently:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nigel, I hope you&#8217;re nice and considerate to Mary? You make her happy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Doesn&#8217;t this look like it?&#8221; he answered. &#8220;She&#8217;ll be in a state if you
+don&#8217;t turn up.&#8221; He sighed. &#8220;I&#8217;ve never said a word about it, but she&#8217;s
+rather trying and tiresome if you want to know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;m very, very sorry for her,&#8221; said Bertha, &#8220;and you can&#8217;t do
+enough for her. &#8230; Why, with those lovely children I&#8217;m sure she&#8217;d be
+ideally happy if&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you think, of course, it&#8217;s my fault. It never occurs to you whether
+I&#8217;m happy!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A look from her which she tried to repress reminded him of his
+deliberate choice. He thought the time had come to make her a little
+sorry for him, knowing her extreme tenderness of heart. He spoke in a
+lower voice, and looked away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If I&#8217;m sometimes a bit miserable, it serves me right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>&#8220;Be good to her,&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll do anything on earth you&#8217;ll tell me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What are the children&#8217;s names?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nigel and Marjorie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Darling pets, I suppose?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t it extraordinary, Bertha,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I&#8217;ve no right to say it to
+you, but that&#8217;s my great trouble.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She doesn&#8217;t care much about them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t believe it,&#8221; said Bertha, shaking her head. &#8220;It&#8217;s you who are
+mistaken.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Am I?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nigel, remember, I know you pretty well.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you think I&#8217;m trying to make you sorry for me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I won&#8217;t say that. But you ought to be happy, and so ought your wife.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in a different tone, with his usual cheery smile.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, if you will grace our entertainment, I promise we will be happy.
+Do come, Bertha!&#8221; He was taking all this trouble simply so as not to
+have a boring evening at his own home!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Nigel,&#8221; she answered, with a kind, frank smile. &#8220;I&#8217;ll come.
+Lately Percy&#8217;s had so much work that in the evenings he hasn&#8217;t been very
+keen on going out to parties.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>&#8220;And you don&#8217;t go without him?&#8221; he asked with curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. Aren&#8217;t I unfashionable?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re delightful.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye,&#8221; she said, holding out her hand.</p>
+
+<p>He took it, and held it, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And now I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t see you again until a few minutes at the party, and
+heaven knows when after that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll bring Madeline. Shall I?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, do. It&#8217;ll be <i>some</i> party, as the Americans say, and Charlie
+won&#8217;t be there.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What are you going to wear?&#8221; he asked, in his old, brotherly voice,
+lingering by the door.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Salmon-coloured chiffon with a mayonnaise sash,&#8221; she answered, fairly
+pushing him out of the room. &#8220;Do go.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX
+<br />
+<br />A DEVOTED WIFE</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">TO anyone who knew Percy Kellynch and his wife, it would have been a
+matter of some surprise to observe the extreme enthusiasm and devotion
+that she showed for him. He was an excellent fellow, and had many good
+qualities, but he was not mentally by any means anything at all
+extraordinary; she was a very much more highly organised being in every
+possible way than he was. Percy was exceedingly kind and straight, yet
+there were, doubtless, many thousands of men exactly like him in
+England. In his rather simple and commonplace point of view he was,
+perhaps more like an ordinary English soldier than a barrister. He did
+not worship false gods, but, not being a soldier, and having perhaps
+learnt more of life in some respects than they generally do, he was
+inclined to be rather surprised at his own cleverness. In a quiet way he
+had a high opinion of himself. He had been disposed to be a superior
+young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> man at twenty, and now, at thirty, he was not without a tinge of
+self-satisfaction, even pompousness. That his quickly discerning, subtle
+little wife should like and appreciate his good qualities; that she
+should, being of an affectionate nature, value him, was not surprising;
+but that, with her sense of humour and remarkable quickness, even depth
+of intellect, she should absolutely worship and adore him&#8212;for it
+amounted to that&#8212;was rather a matter of astonishment. But it must be
+remembered that her first love, Nigel Hillier, when she was eighteen,
+was, obviously, just exactly what one would have expected to dazzle
+her&#8212;quick, lively, fascinating and witty&#8212;this early romance had been a
+terrible disappointment. Bertha had bravely been prepared to wait for
+years, or to marry him on the moment; she had not the faintest idea that
+the money difficulties would be used to put an end to it on <i>his</i> side.
+When he had broken it off, saying that he feared her father was right,
+and that it was for her sake, she was terribly pained, seeing at once
+that his love was not of the same quality as hers. But when, in less
+than a week after that, he told her of his other engagement, it very
+nearly broke her heart, as the phrase goes. Yet she cured herself; and
+considering how young she was, she had an astonishing power of
+self-control;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> she was almost cured of her love, if not her grief, in a
+fortnight! She accepted Percy at the time without romance, though with a
+great liking, and looking up to him with a certain trust, but very soon
+the good qualities, in which he differed so remarkably from Nigel, and
+even the points in which he was deficient and in which Nigel excelled,
+made her care for him more. As the years went on, Bertha, who could do
+nothing by halves, began to adore Percy more and more. She thought
+absolutely nothing of Nigel at all, so very little that she had let him
+dangle about without a thought of the past, being under the impression
+that he was contented in his married life. When he began again to find
+excuses to see her, and to start a sort of friendship, she did not
+discourage it, for the very reason that she wanted him to see that
+chapter in her life was absolutely closed and forgotten.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>His extreme desire that she should come to their entertainment, his
+various implications&#8212;that Mary should think there was something in it
+if she didn&#8217;t come&#8212;then this new suggestion that he was not happy at
+home, and, on looking back, Percy&#8217;s extraordinary behaviour, suddenly
+made her see things in a different light. She saw that Nigel probably
+now imagined himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> in love with her, and that it was not entirely
+Percy&#8217;s imagination; that it was even more necessary than she had
+thought to put an end to the friendship. It made her furious when she
+thought of it&#8212;the selfishness, the treachery&#8212;meanly to throw her over
+because Mary was rich, and afterwards to try and come back and spoil
+both their homes in amusing himself by a romance with her. Even if
+Bertha had not cared for her husband, Nigel would have been the very
+last man in the world she could have looked upon from that point of
+view. Amusing as he was, she never thought of him without a slightly
+contemptuous smile. And she loved Percy so very much; he was so entirely
+without self-interest: he might have a certain amount of harmless
+vanity, but he was purely unworldly, generous, broadminded and good, and
+his own advantage was the very last thing that ever entered his head.</p>
+
+<p>Until the trouble about Nigel she had feared he was growing cold, but
+Percy&#8217;s conduct on that subject had thoroughly satisfied her. He had
+been very jealous but kind to her: he trusted and believed in her when
+she was frank, and he certainly seemed more in love with her than ever.
+Percy was so reliable, so true and <i>real</i>. She took up the dignified,
+charmingly flattered photograph of him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>. &#8230; What a noble forehead! What
+a beautiful figure he had! And though he seemed so calm and so cold, he
+was passionate and could be violent. His intellect was not above the
+average, but his power of emotion most certainly was. &#8230; Dear Percy!</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>And now she had promised to go to Nigel&#8217;s house, she would get Percy to
+agree that evening.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha told him of Nigel&#8217;s visit, and of the request.</p>
+
+<p>He frowned.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve accepted, and that&#8217;s enough. I suppose you had to say you were
+going. You can easily write Mrs. Hillier an excuse the next day. Dozens
+of people will do it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy, I want to go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He looked up angrily and in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You want to go? You certainly can&#8217;t. I don&#8217;t wish it. Why, remember
+what you promised. Is this infernal intimacy beginning again?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy, to-day is only the third time I&#8217;ve seen him since we talked
+about it! And I hadn&#8217;t the faintest idea he was coming to-day. I was
+surprised and annoyed to see him. Since Madeline broke it off with
+Charlie, we&#8217;ve heard nothing about them. Don&#8217;t you believe me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>&#8220;Naturally, I do. But it&#8217;s a very odd thing a man should call here, and
+beg you to promise to come to his wife&#8217;s party! Isn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps it is. We stopped seeing him so suddenly, you see.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that got to do with it?&#8221; said Percy, with angry impatience. The
+typewritten letters were torturing him. He had long been ashamed of not
+having shown them to Bertha, and made a clean breast of it. It was
+another reason why he hated Nigel and wanted the whole subject
+absolutely put aside and forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;In my opinion it suggests a very curious relation his coming here
+to-day like this. Not on your side, dear,&#8221; he continued gently, putting
+his hand on hers. &#8220;But, if you don&#8217;t mind my saying so, you don&#8217;t know
+very much of the world, dear little Bertha, and in your innocence you
+are liable to be imprudent.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This was Percy&#8217;s mistaken view of Bertha, but she did not dislike it.
+She was so determined now to be completely open that she did not try to
+put him off, and said candidly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It may be perfectly true that he&#8217;s rather more anxious for me to be at
+the party than he need be. But, after all, there&#8217;s not much harm in
+that, Percy. All I want is to go in with you for twenty minutes or
+half-an-hour, and then go away quite quickly. After that, if you like,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
+I&#8217;ll give you my word of honour not to see him again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the object of it? No, I&#8217;m hanged if I go to that man&#8217;s house.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I promised as a special favour that I&#8217;d go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But what&#8217;s the reason? Why is he so desperate you should be seen
+there?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy frowned and thought a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Has his wife&#8212;do you think it&#8217;s been noticed he doesn&#8217;t come here so
+often?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It may have been. He didn&#8217;t say so.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then it&#8217;s damned impertinence of him to dare to come and ask you. Why
+should I take you there to make things comfortable with him and his
+wife?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Percy!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to have anything to do with them,&#8221; Percy repeated,
+frowning angrily at her.</p>
+
+<p>She paused and said sweetly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t look worried, darling. Won&#8217;t you anyhow think it over for a day
+or two?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy thought. He was a lawyer and it struck him that if the letters
+were to be really ignored it might be better for them to go in and be
+seen at the party, and if Bertha promised never to see him again, he
+knew she was telling the truth. But it was hard; it jarred on him.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>&#8220;We&#8217;ll leave the subject for a few days, Bertha,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I&#8217;ll think
+it over. But what I decide then must be final.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Percy. &#8230; I&#8217;ve got <i>such</i> a lovely new dress! Pale primrose
+colour.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The dress I saw you trying on? The canary dress?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. I&#8217;m hanged if you&#8217;ll wear that there!&#8221; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha went into fits of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Percy, <i>how</i> sweet of you to say that! You&#8217;re becoming a regular
+jealous husband, do you know? Darling! How delightful!&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>CHAPTER XX
+<br />
+<br />RUPERT AGAIN</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">AFTER the first reaction, Rupert felt, of course, to a certain extent,
+relieved and grateful to think that he was not engaged to Madeline.
+Undoubtedly, had he cared for her as she did for him, he would not have
+declined to marry her because of her accepting Charlie, more or less out
+of pique, or in despair. Yet, after having once really proposed he felt
+his emotions stirred, and almost as soon as he had sent her back (so to
+speak) to Charlie, he began to regret it&#8212;he began to be unhappy. <i>Au
+fond</i> he knew she would break it off with Charlie now, and would wait
+vaguely in hope for him. At first to recover from the intense annoyance
+of the whole thing, he thought he would, before Venice, go in a little
+for the gaieties of Paris. Rupert was still young enough to believe that
+the things presented to him as gaiety must necessarily be gay. A certain
+delicacy prevented his telling Madeline this now; though formerly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> when
+he had been to Paris, especially when he had had no intention of
+accepting any Parisian opportunities of amusement, he had often rubbed
+it in to her about the dazzling and dangerous charms of the gay city&#8217;s
+dissipations, at which she was suitably impressed. But a nicer feeling
+made him now wish her to think of him as gliding down the lagoons of
+Venice, and dreaming of what might have been.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Madeline herself was really entirely without hope. She was certain she
+had lost all the prestige that she had had in his eyes; and she thought
+that she thoroughly deserved what had happened. She resolved to remain
+unmarried, and try to do good. Though she was hurt, and thought it
+showed how much less was Rupert&#8217;s love than hers, still she respected
+him and admired him all the more for refusing to take her after
+accepting Charlie. She did not see that Rupert was a little too serious
+to be taken quite seriously.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Her mother added immensely to her depression. Mrs. Irwin was a woman who
+detested facts, so much so that she thought statistics positively
+indecent (though she would never have used the expression). When she was
+told there were more women than men in England,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> she would bite her lips
+and change the subject. She had had all the Victorian intense desire to
+see her daughter married young, and all the Victorian almost absurd
+delicacy in pretending she didn&#8217;t. When, in one week, her only
+daughter&#8212;a girl who was not remarkably pretty, and had only a little
+money&#8212;should have proposals from no less than two attractive and
+eligible young men and should have muddled it up so badly that, though
+she had been prepared to accept both of them, she was now unable to
+marry either, her mother was, naturally, pained and disgusted.</p>
+
+<p>Madeline, who was usually gentle and amiable to her, in this case spoke
+with a violence and determination that left no possible hope of her
+returning to Charlie Hillier. She left Mrs. Irwin nothing to do but to
+put on an air of refined resignation, of having neuralgia, which she now
+called neuritis, because Madeline had annoyed her so much, and of
+behaving, when Madeline sat with her, as much as possible like a person
+who was somewhere else.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha was Madeline&#8217;s only consolation and resource. Bertha took life
+with such delightful coolness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How would you advise me to behave to him, if it <i>had</i> come off&#8212;I mean
+if I <i>had</i> married Rupert?&#8221; Madeline asked Bertha.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>She was fond of these problematical speculations.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should say be an angel, if he deserved it, or a devil if he
+appreciated it. Then&#8212;now and then&#8212;be non-existent, charming and
+indifferent, when you wanted to hedge&#8212;when there was no particular
+response. You&#8217;ll go with me to the Hilliers&#8217; party, won&#8217;t you, as
+Charlie will be away?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course I will&#8212;if you like. But will Percy go&#8212;and let you go?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He says he won&#8217;t, but I think he will,&#8221; she replied.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI
+<br />
+<br />THE HILLIERS&#8217; ENTERTAINMENT</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">NO more had been said between them about the Hilliers&#8217; party; and Percy
+began to hope that it would be dropped. But on the morning Bertha asked
+him if he would like to take her out to dinner first with Madeline;
+assuming that, as he had said no more about it, he intended to go.</p>
+
+<p>With those letters upstairs in the box, how could he?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I simply can&#8217;t,&#8221; he answered. &#8220;I don&#8217;t wish to go to that man&#8217;s house.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then must I take Madeline alone?&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;In all these years,
+Percy, I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ve ever been to a party without you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I don&#8217;t see why you should begin now,&#8221; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, Percy, I want to go. Only for a few minutes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d much rather you didn&#8217;t.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>Bertha thought this tyrannical. She had promised Nigel, because he had
+implied to her that it would get him out of the domestic difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, do, Percy dear. It&#8217;s treating me as if you didn&#8217;t trust me. After
+all &#8230; if you like I&#8217;ll swear to arrange never to see Nigel again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish you would.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s only because I think it would look marked.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy thought there was something in that, and he didn&#8217;t dislike the
+idea of proving to the person, whoever it was, that had written the
+letters, how little effect they had had. Yet, they had left a tinge of
+jealousy that would easily be roused again, especially at her
+insistence. He noticed that she didn&#8217;t make the fact that she was
+chaperoning Madeline an excuse, as most women would have done. She was
+frank about it. Still, he tried once more.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want you to go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I want to.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was not particularly fond of opposition, and began to look annoyed.
+She thought Percy was beginning to sit on her a little too much.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; he said, &#8220;I shall not dine out with you and Madeline first: I
+don&#8217;t care to. But I&#8217;ll hire an electric motor for you at eleven, and it
+shall fetch you at twelve-thirty. If<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> Madeline doesn&#8217;t want to come
+then, she can easily go back alone. It isn&#8217;t far for her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, she won&#8217;t want to stop any longer than that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, very well, we&#8217;ll leave it like that. I shall dine at the club.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s unkind of you. I believe you don&#8217;t want to see me start.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re quite right. I hate the idea of your appearing there in your
+lovely new dress. I suppose you want to wear it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I don&#8217;t care in the least,&#8221; she answered, &#8220;if you&#8217;d rather not.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hang it! Wear what you like,&#8221; he answered rather crossly.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>She did not see him again before she started, and, naturally, being a
+woman, she put on the new dress.</p>
+
+<p>It was pale yellow, and she knew Percy would have liked it and would
+have called her a canary.</p>
+
+<p>She went out, not in the best of tempers, and Madeline also, though
+looking very charming, did not look forward to the entertainment, and
+was thinking, with rather an aching heart, of Rupert in the lagoons of
+Venice.</p>
+
+<p>The Hilliers&#8217; house was arranged with the utmost gorgeousness. Nigel
+felt a little return<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> of his pride in it to-night. It was covered all
+over with rambler roses, and looked magnificent. There was such a crowd
+that Nigel hoped to get a little talk alone with Bertha, but feared she
+would not come. He was agreeably surprised to see her arrive alone with
+Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>It so happened that Mary was not in the room when they were announced,
+and very soon Nigel managed to take her down, first into the
+refreshment-room, and then into the boudoir, which had been arranged
+with draperies and shaded lights.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I just want to have a few words with you,&#8221; he said, and got her into a
+little corner.</p>
+
+<p>There was a heavy scent of roses; the music sounded faintly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bertha!&#8221; he said. &#8220;It was too sweet of you to come. I shall never
+forget it. You don&#8217;t know how miserable I am.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, rubbish!&#8221; she answered. &#8220;You&#8217;ve no earthly reason to be. I wish you
+wouldn&#8217;t talk nonsense.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve never seen you look so lovely.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall go away if you talk like that. Can&#8217;t you see I don&#8217;t like it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wonder Percy allowed you to come alone, looking like that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>&#8220;I came because I promised,&#8221; she said. &#8220;You made me think, in some
+mysterious way, it would be a good thing for you. But after what you
+said about Mary, I want this to be distinctly understood: you are not to
+come and see me any more. Nothing in the world I should loathe so much
+as to be the cause of any trouble.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my dear, but that you never could,&#8221; he answered quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope not, and I&#8217;m not going to risk it. You chose your life, Nigel,
+and you have every reason to be happy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have I? You don&#8217;t know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Think of your children. I haven&#8217;t got that pleasure, and yet I&#8217;m
+happy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you madly in love with Percy?&#8221; he asked, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I am,&#8221; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a small crowd of people came in at the door. Mary, who
+was with them, looked hurriedly round the room, and seeing Bertha and
+Nigel in the corner, called him, taking no notice of her.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha half rose, intending to go and shake hands with her, and Nigel
+quickly went to meet her, but Bertha paused, thinking Mary looked
+strange. She was very pale, and the white dress she wore made her look
+paler against her dull red hair. She wore a tiara,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> which seemed a
+little crooked, and her hair was disarranged. She was pale and
+trembling, but spoke in a loud voice that Bertha could hear. Within two
+yards of her, she said to Nigel, gesticulating with a feather fan:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you don&#8217;t make that woman go away at once, I shall make a public
+scene!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha started up and looked at her in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>Mary, glaring at her, and still talking loudly, allowed Nigel to lead
+her out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>He then came back.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think my wife&#8217;s gone mad! Forgive her. She&#8217;s ill, or something.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m going now at once,&#8221; said Bertha calmly. &#8220;Have a cab called for me,
+and let Madeline know that the motor will be here for her at half-past
+twelve. Leave me now&#8212;I don&#8217;t want anything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For God&#8217;s sake forgive me. She&#8217;s off her head,&#8221; said Nigel
+incoherently.</p>
+
+<p>At her wish he ran upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha got her cloak, and telling a friend she met that she was going on
+to a dance, she got into a taxi and went home.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII
+<br />
+<br />BERTHA AT HOME</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">BERTHA drove back, furiously angry, principally with Nigel, whom she
+also pitied a little. It could be no joke to live with a woman like his
+wife. But he should not have deceived Bertha; he should have let her
+know; he should not have induced her to come against Percy&#8217;s wish, at
+the risk of being insulted.</p>
+
+<p>She was not anxious about Madeline, knowing that that sensible young
+lady would go to her own home when the carriage came, and that she could
+explain matters to her the next morning. Madeline was not <i>une faiseuse
+d&#8217;embarras</i>.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Bertha had brought her key as Percy had promised to wait up for her; the
+servants were to be allowed to go to bed. It was not long after twelve;
+she saw a light in the library and went in, fully intending to tell
+Percy everything.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>She found him sitting by the fire, with a book. He had fallen asleep.
+She watched him for some moments, and she thought he looked pale and a
+little worried. &#8230; How wilful, how foolish it had been of her to go to
+the party without him! What did it matter? How trivial to insist on her
+own way! How ungrateful! For lately Percy had been devoted. And how
+lucky she was that he should care for her so much, after all these
+years.</p>
+
+<p>As Bertha watched, she felt that strange suffering which is always the
+other side of intense love&#8212;the reverse of the medal of the ecstasy of
+passion&#8212;and she thought she would tell him nothing about it. Why should
+he be hurt, annoyed, and humiliated? It would spoil all the pleasure of
+her coming back so early&#8212;the unexpected delightful time they might
+have. &#8230; In this Bertha committed an error of judgment, for she forgot
+that he would probably hear of the scene some time or other, and would
+attach more importance to it than if she told him now.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Percy,&#8221; she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>He woke up.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You already! Why, it&#8217;s only twelve o&#8217;clock! Oh, dear, how good of you
+to come so early.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>&#8220;I didn&#8217;t enjoy myself a bit,&#8221; she murmured. &#8220;I&#8217;ll never go out without
+you again. Do forgive me for going!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How is it you didn&#8217;t enjoy it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Because you hadn&#8217;t seen me in my new dress. Do I look like a canary?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Let me look at you. No, you&#8217;re not a canary&#8212;you&#8217;re a
+Bird of Paradise.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII
+<br />
+<br />NIGEL&#8217;S LETTER</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">NEXT morning, as Bertha expected, Madeline came round to see her early.
+She brought with her a note. She said that Nigel had implored her to
+give it to her friend from him. He had put Madeline in the carriage, and
+had seemed greatly distressed. He told the girl that his wife had been
+ill lately and was not quite herself, and he feared she had offended
+Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She certainly behaved like a lunatic,&#8221; Bertha said, as she took the
+letter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did you tell Percy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;As a matter of fact, no.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t he wonder at your coming home so early?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid I pretended I rushed back to please him. Was it wrong of me?
+I&#8217;m afraid it was.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I believe in frankness with people you can trust. And remember, quite a
+little while ago, Bertha, you were worried and depressed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> because you
+thought Percy was becoming a little casual and like an ordinary husband,
+and now, you naughty child, that he&#8217;s been so <i>empress&#233;</i> and
+affectionate, and jealous and attentive and everything that you
+like&#8212;now you first insist on going to a party when he doesn&#8217;t wish it,
+and then you come home and tell him stories about it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid I was wrong; but it was to spare him annoyance. Besides, I
+daresay I was weak. It was so delightful giving him a pleasant
+surprise.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She read the letter.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;Forgive me for asking your friend to give you this note&#8212;I only did
+it because I feared in writing to you to refer to what happened. Is
+it asking too much, Bertha, to beg you not to resent it? Not to hate
+me for to-night? Think of my shame and misery about it&#8212;to think I
+had pressed and begged you to come to be insulted in my house. You
+see now what I have tried to conceal. I am utterly miserable. My
+wife is terrible and impossible. Seeing you occasionally had been my
+one joy&#8212;my only consolation. And only to-night&#8212;before&#8212;you had
+been telling me not to come and see you any more. Now I feel our
+friendship is all over. I could not expect you to see me again. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
+are such an angel, that you will, if I ask you, I believe, try to
+wipe out from your memory this horrible evening! I would rather have
+died than it should have happened. Of course, you see now that by
+instinct Mary guessed right&#8212;I mean in knowing my feeling for
+you&#8212;though heaven knows I haven&#8217;t deserved this. She&#8217;s screaming
+for me, and I must stop. All I ask is, don&#8217;t hate me! I&#8217;m so
+miserable when I think that you, beautiful angel as you are, might
+have belonged to me. I doubt if I shall be able to live this life
+much longer.</p>
+
+<p class="nb">&#8220;In humblest apology, and with that deep feeling that writing can
+never express, your idolising</p>
+
+<p class="right">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Nigel</span>.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>P.S.</i>&#8212;I ought not to have written that. But I fear so much that I
+may not see you again, and that this may be my last letter, and I
+feel I would like you to know honestly all I feel for you. But words
+may not bear such burdens. Send me one word, only one word of
+pardon.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>Bertha was obviously shocked and surprised at this letter. She folded it
+up, looking grave. Then she said to Madeline:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a very extraordinary thing it has been that both Mary and Percy
+have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> suspicious and jealous of Nigel and myself, while there&#8217;s
+been absolutely nothing in it!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But they both felt by instinct, perhaps, that that was no fault of
+his,&#8221; returned Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have no sympathy with him,&#8221; said Bertha, who seemed for her quite
+hard. &#8220;If he does like me, all the more he ought to have kept away.
+Besides, it&#8217;s only because he wants to be amused! What right has he to
+make his wife unhappy, when he deliberately chose her, and to be
+willing&#8212;if he is willing&#8212;to smash up my happiness with Percy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course that&#8217;s horrid of him,&#8221; said Madeline; &#8220;but somehow I do think
+his wife is rather awful; I think she might do anything. But won&#8217;t you
+answer his letter?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I think I&#8217;d better write him a line,&#8221; said Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>She sat down and wrote:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Hillier</span>,&#8212;Pray don&#8217;t think again of the unpleasant little
+incident.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have already forgotten it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think that if you will make your children the interest of your
+life&#8212;though it&#8217;s very impertinent of me to say so&#8212;happiness must
+come of it.</p>
+
+<p class="nb">&#8220;Good-bye. Yours very sincerely,</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap mid">&#8220;Bertha Kellynch</span>&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>&#8220;I&#8217;ve written,&#8221; said Bertha, &#8220;what I wouldn&#8217;t mind either Percy or Mary
+seeing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sure you have, dear. But Percy would rather you didn&#8217;t write at
+all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps. But I think it&#8217;s right. Besides, otherwise, he might write
+again, or even call.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, that&#8217;s true.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV
+<br />
+<br />LADY KELLYNCH AT HOME</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">ALTHOUGH Lady Kellynch was a widow, and had had two sons (at the unusual
+interval of eighteen years), there was something curiously old-maidish
+about her&#8212;I should say that she had a set of qualities that were
+formerly known by that expression, as there are no such things nowadays
+as old maids and maiden aunts as contrasted to British matrons. There
+are merely married or unmarried women. And Lady Kellynch belonged to a
+long-forgotten type; she was no suffragette; politics did not touch her,
+and at fifty-four she did not regard herself as the modern middle-aged
+woman does. It never occurred to her for a moment, for example, to have
+lessons in the Tango or to learn ski-ing or any other winter sports, in
+a white jersey and cap. She was not seen clinging to the arm of a
+professor of roller-skating, nor did she go to fancy-dress balls as
+Folly or Romeo, as a Pierrette or Joan of Arc, as many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> of her
+contemporaries loved to do. She dressed magnificently and in the fashion
+of the day, and yet she always remained and looked extremely
+old-fashioned; and though she would wear her hats as they were made
+nowadays, her hair then had a look that did not go with it; no
+hairdresser or milliner could ever induce her to do it in a style later
+than 1887. The larger number of women have had some period of their
+lives when the fashion has happened to suit them, or when, for some
+reason or another, they have had a special success, and most of these
+cling fondly to that epoch. Lady Kellynch never got away from 1887 and
+the time of Queen Victoria&#8217;s first Jubilee. All the fads of the hour
+seemed to have passed over her since then, from bicycling to flying,
+from classical dancing or ragtime to enthusiasm about votes for women;
+the various movements had passed over her without leaving any hurt or
+effect. Lady Kellynch had had a success in 1887; she cherished tenderly
+a photograph of herself in an enormous bustle, with an impossibly small
+waist, a thick high fringe over her eyes, and a tight dog-collar. The
+bald bare look about the ears, and the extraordinary figure resembling a
+switchback made her look very much older then than she did now. But more
+than one smart young soldier (now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> probably, steady retired generals,
+who passed their time saying that the country was going to the dogs), an
+attach&#233; long since married and sunk into domestic life, and one or two
+other men had greatly admired her; she had had her little dignified
+flirtations, much as she adored the late Sir Percy Kellynch; her
+portrait had been painted by Herkomer, and the Prince of Wales (as he
+then was) had looked at her through his opera glass during the
+performance of Gounod&#8217;s <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>. These were things not to be
+forgotten. When her husband died, Percy married and Clifford went to
+school, and Lady Kellynch was left alone in her big house in South
+Kensington, she became again what I call old-maidish. She had a hundred
+little rules and fussy little arrangements, of which the slightest
+disorganisation drove her to distraction. She had long consultations
+every day with the cook at nine o&#8217;clock as to what was to be done with
+what was left. She liked to be domestic, and would stand over the man
+who was cleaning the windows and tell him how to do it. Certain things
+she liked to do herself.</p>
+
+<p>In the drawing-room was a chandelier of the seventies, beautiful in its
+way, though out of date, and she used to take the lustres down and
+polish them with her own fingers, taking a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> great pride in doing this
+herself. She cared really for no one in the world but her two sons, but
+she was extremely fond, in her own way, of society and of receiving. She
+did not keep open house, and hers was not by any means casual
+hospitality. She hated anyone to call upon her unexpected and uninvited,
+except on the first and third Thursday of every month. She was very much
+surprised that in the rush of the present day people had a way of
+forgetting these days and calling on others. The first Thursday was
+peculiarly ill-treated and ignored, and preparations on that day were
+often wasted, while on the second Thursday she would come home and find
+a quantity of cards, belonging to more or less smart, if dull, people
+who had left them, with a sigh of relief at their mistake.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch was good-natured in a cold kind of way, and even lavish;
+yet she had her queer, petty economies, and was always talking about a
+mysterious feat that she spoke of as <i>keeping the books down</i>, and was
+also fond of discovering tiny little dressmakers who used to be with
+some celebrated one and had now set up for themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch was very kind to these little dressmakers&#8212;she spoke of
+them as if they were minute to the point of being midgets or
+dwarfs&#8212;she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> was really rather the curse of their lives, and after a
+while they would have been glad to dispense with her custom. She wanted
+them to do impossibilities, such as making her look exactly as she did
+at Queen Victoria&#8217;s first Jubilee (the time when she was so much admired
+and had such a success), and yet making her look up-to-date now, without
+any of the horrid fast modern style.</p>
+
+<p>When Clifford was at home things were considerably turned upside down,
+and when the time of his holidays drew to an end she was conscious of
+being relieved.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first Thursday, and Lady Kellynch was at home. A day or two
+before Clifford had spent a day with Pickering and his mother. She had
+told him he might ask the boy to tea.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother,&#8221; said Clifford, who had received a note, &#8220;Pickering can&#8217;t come
+to-day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed&#8212;what a pity.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was really rather glad. Boys at an At Home were a bore and ate all
+the cake.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Er&#8212;no&#8212;he can&#8217;t come. But, I say, you won&#8217;t mind, will you?&#8212;his
+mother&#8217;s coming.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;His mother!&#8221; exclaimed Lady Kellynch, rather surprised.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Er&#8212;yes&#8212;I asked her. I thought, perhaps, you wouldn&#8217;t mind. She wants
+to know you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Really? It&#8217;s very kind of her, I&#8217;m sure.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>&#8220;You see, in a way, though she&#8217;s awfully rich&#8212;I suppose she&#8217;s a bit of
+a&#8212;you know what I mean&#8212;a sort of a <i>nouveau riche</i>. She wants to visit
+a few decent people, especially not too young.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, indeed!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She says it&#8217;ll sort of pose her, and help her to get into society.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What curious things to say to a boy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, she&#8217;s awfully jolly, mother. She says everything that comes into
+her head. She&#8217;s ripping&#8212;I do like her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who was she?&#8221; asked his mother, with a rather chilling accent.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sure I don&#8217;t know who she was,&#8221; said the boy. &#8220;I can tell you who
+she is: she&#8217;s the prettiest woman I&#8217;ve ever seen.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good gracious me!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We had awful larks,&#8221; went on Clifford. &#8220;She played with us and
+Pickering&#8217;s kiddy sister. We danced the Tango and had charades. You
+can&#8217;t think what fun it was. And we had tableaux. Mrs. Pickering and I
+did a lovely tableau, &#8216;Death in the Desert.&#8217; She fell down dead
+suddenly, on the sand, you know, and I was a vulture. I&#8217;m an awfully
+good vulture. And I vultured about and hopped round her for some
+considerable time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>&#8220;Horrible!&#8221; cried Lady Kellynch. &#8220;Revolting! What an unpleasant subject
+for a game.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It wasn&#8217;t a game: it was a proper tableau: we had a curtain and all
+that sort of thing. They said I made a capital vulture. I pecked at Mrs.
+Pickering. It was a great success.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear me! Was it indeed? Well, if this lady&#8217;s coming, you&#8217;d better go
+and wash your hands,&#8221; said Lady Kellynch, who felt a disposition to snub
+Clifford on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course I will! I say, mother, what cakes have you got?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Really, Clifford, I think you can leave that to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They have jolly little <i>foie gras</i> sandwiches at the Pickerings.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I daresay they have.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Can I go and tell cook to make some?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Most certainly not, Clifford!&#8221; cried the indignant mother.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But if there aren&#8217;t any, she might miss them,&#8221; said Clifford.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She will probably enjoy the change.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You can&#8217;t think how pretty she is! I say, mother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I say, can&#8217;t you have fur put round the edge of your shoes!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>&#8220;Fur round the edge of my shoes!&#8221; she repeated in a hollow voice.</p>
+
+<p>He twisted his hands together self-consciously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Pickering had an awful ripping violet sort of dress, and violet
+satin boots with fur round the edge. &#8230; I noticed them when we played
+&#8217;Death in the Desert.&#8217; I thought they were rather pretty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Extremely bad style, I should think. At any rate, not the sort of thing
+that I should dream of wearing. Now get along.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Clifford went down to the kitchen and worried the cook with descriptions
+of the gorgeous cakes he had seen at the Pickerings till she said that
+his ma had better accept her notice, and engage the Pickerings&#8217; cook
+instead.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Orders from you, Master Clifford, I will not take. And now you&#8217;ve got
+it straight. <i>For grars</i> in the afternoon is a thing I don&#8217;t hold with
+and never would hold with, and I&#8217;ve lived in the best families. There&#8217;s
+some nice sandwiches made of <i>gentlemen&#8217;s relish</i> made of Blootes&#8217;
+paste, your ma&#8217;s always &#8217;ad since I&#8217;ve been here; it&#8217;s done for her and
+the best families I&#8217;ve lived in. <i>Fors grars</i> is served at the end of
+dinner with apsia and jelly, or else in one of them things with crust on
+the top<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> and truffles. But for tea I consider it quite out of place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She went on to say that if she couldn&#8217;t have her kitchen to herself
+without the young gentlemen of the house putting their oar in, she would
+leave that day month.</p>
+
+<p>Clifford fled, frightened, and tidied himself.</p>
+
+<p>At about five, when two or three old cronies of Lady Kellynch&#8217;s were
+sitting round, talking about the royal family, a gigantic motor, painted
+white, came to the door, and Mrs. Pickering was announced.</p>
+
+<p>She was very young and very pretty. Her hair was the very brightest
+gold, and she had rather too much mauve and too much smile; she almost
+curtsied to her hostess, and instantly gave that lady the impression
+that she must have been not so very long ago the principal boy at some
+popular pantomime.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV
+<br />
+<br />MRS. PICKERING</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="Open quote" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap">OUR boys are such very great friends&#8212;I really felt I must know you!&#8221;
+cried Mrs. Pickering in the most cordial way. She spoke with a very
+slight Cockney accent. She bristled with aigrettes and sparkled with
+jewels. Her bodice was cut very low, her sleeves very short, and her
+white gloves came over the braceleted elbows. She wore a very high,
+narrow turban, green satin shoes and stockings, and altogether was
+dressed rather excessively; she looked like one of Louis Bauer&#8217;s
+drawings in <i>Punch</i>. She was certainly most striking in appearance, and
+a little alarming in a quiet room, but most decidedly pretty and with a
+very pleasant smile.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch received her with great courtesy, but was not sufficiently
+adaptable and subtle to conceal at once the fact that Mrs. Pickering&#8217;s
+general appearance and manner had completely taken her breath away.
+Also, she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> was annoyed that Lady Gertrude M&#252;nster was there to-day. Lady
+Gertrude was one of her great cards. She was a clever, glib,
+battered-looking, elderly woman, who, since her husband had once been at
+the Embassy in Vienna, had assumed a slight foreign accent; it was meant
+to be Austrian but sounded Scotch. Lady Gertrude looked rather muffled
+and seemed to have more thick veils and feather boas on than was
+necessary for the time of the year. She was an old friend of Lady
+Kellynch&#8217;s, and they detested each other, but never missed an
+opportunity of meeting, chiefly in order to impress each other, in one
+way or another, or cause each other envy or annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch was always very specially careful whom she asked, or
+allowed, to meet Lady Gertrude. She had wanted Bertha particularly
+to-day and was vexed at this unexpected arrival.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your daughter-in-law, my dear?&#8221; asked Lady Gertrude, in a surprised
+tone, putting up her long tortoiseshell glass.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh <i>dear</i>, no, Gertrude! Surely you know Bertha by sight! I never had
+the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Pickering before.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Charmed to meet you,&#8221; said Mrs. Pickering again, giving a kind of
+curtsy and smiling at Lady Gertrude. &#8220;Ah, there&#8217;s my little friend!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
+Well, Cliff, didn&#8217;t we have fun the other day? Eustace was sorry he
+couldn&#8217;t come to-day. We had the greatest larks, Lady Kellynch! I play
+with the kids just like one of themselves. We&#8217;ve got a great big room
+fixed up on purpose for Cissie and Eustace to romp. We haven&#8217;t been
+there very long yet, Lady Kellynch. You know that big corner house in
+Hamilton Place leading into Park Lane. My husband thinks there&#8217;s nothing
+good enough for the children. If it comes to that, he thinks there&#8217;s
+nothing good enough for me.&#8221; She giggled. &#8220;He gave me this emerald
+brooch only this morning. &#8216;Oh, Tom,&#8217; I said, &#8216;what a silly you are. You
+don&#8217;t want to make a fuss about birthdays now we&#8217;re getting on.&#8217; But he
+is silly about me! It&#8217;s a nice little thing, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; she said,
+showing it to Lady Gertrude, who put up her glass to examine it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Lady Gertrude M&#252;nster&#8212;Mrs. Pickering,&#8221; said Lady Kellynch. &#8220;Some tea?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thanks, no tea. It&#8217;s a pretty little thing, isn&#8217;t it, Lady M&#252;nster?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rather nice. Are they real?&#8221; asked Lady Gertrude.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pickering laughed very loudly. &#8220;You&#8217;re getting at me. I shouldn&#8217;t
+be so pleased with it if it came out of a cracker! But what I always say
+about presents, Lady Kellynch, is, it isn&#8217;t<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> so much the kind thought,
+it&#8217;s the value of the gift I look at. No, I meant&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What you said, I suppose,&#8221; said Lady Gertrude, who was rather enjoying
+herself, as she saw her hostess was irritated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whoever&#8217;s that pretty picture over there?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pickering got up and went to look at the piano.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch still retained (with several other <i>pass&#233;</i> fashions) the
+very South Kensington custom of covering up her large piano with a
+handsome piece of Japanese embroidery, which was caught up at intervals
+into bunchy bits of drapery, fastened by pots of flowers with sashes
+round their necks and with a very large number of dark photographs in
+frames, so very artistic in their heavy shading that one saw only a
+gleam of light occasionally on the tip of the nose or the back of the
+neck&#8212;all the rest in shadow&#8212;all with very large dashing signatures
+slanting across the corners, chiefly of former dim social celebrities or
+present well-known obscurities. The photograph she was looking at now
+was a pretty one of Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, that is my daughter-in-law.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Kellynch pointed it out to Lady Gertrude.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This <i>is</i> pretty&#8212;what you can see of it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here she is herself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>Bertha came in.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Pickering&#8212;Mrs. Percy Kellynch.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The hostess gave Bertha an imploring look. She took in the situation at
+a glance and drew Mrs. Pickering a little aside, where Lady Gertrude
+could not listen to her piercing Cockney accent.</p>
+
+<p>Clifford joined the group.</p>
+
+<p>If Lady Kellynch had been, almost against her will, reminded by
+something in her visitor of a pantomime, Bertha saw far more. She was
+convinced at once that the rich eldest son of Pickering, the Jam King,
+had been dazzled and carried away, some fourteen years ago, and bestowed
+his enormous fortune and himself, probably against his family&#8217;s wish, on
+a little provincial chorus girl. Her cheery determination to get on, and
+an evident sense of humour, made Bertha like her, in spite of her
+snobbishness and her manner. She was a change, at least, to meet here,
+and when Mrs. Pickering produced her card, which she did to everyone to
+whom she spoke, Bertha promised to call and asked her also. Of course
+one would have to be a shade careful whom one asked to meet her, but
+probably it would be a jolly house to go to. And nowadays! Still, Bertha
+was a little surprised that Clifford was so infatuated with the mother
+of his friend. She forgot that at twelve years old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> one is not
+fastidious; the taste is crude. If he admired Bertha&#8217;s fair hair, he
+thought Mrs. Pickering&#8217;s brilliant gold curls still prettier. Besides,
+Mrs. Pickering petted and made much of him, and was very kind.</p>
+
+<p>She stayed much too long for a first visit, and as she went of course
+produced another card, saying to the muffled lady:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pleased to have met you, Lady M&#252;nster. I hope you&#8217;ll call and see our
+new house. We&#8217;re going to give a ball soon. We&#8217;re entertaining this
+season.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She certainly is,&#8221; murmured Lady Gertrude. Then, as she left: &#8220;My dear,
+where do you pick up your extraordinary friends?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This was a particularly nasty one for Lady Kellynch, who made such a
+point of her exclusiveness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Clifford is responsible for this, I think,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;The boys are
+at the same school, and they&#8217;ve been very kind to him. I think she&#8217;s
+very amusing, and a good sort.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, quite a character! She told me she met her husband at Blackpool. He
+fell in love with her when she was playing Prince Charming in No. 2 B
+Company on tour with the pantomime <i>Little Miss Muffet</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Just what one would have thought!&#8221; said Lady Kellynch, rather
+tragically.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>&#8220;I&#8217;ve come to ask you if you&#8217;ll go with Percy to the Queen&#8217;s Hall
+to-morrow,&#8221; Bertha said. &#8220;He wants you to come so much.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The mother delightedly consented.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Curious fad that is the mania for serious music,&#8221; said Lady Gertrude.
+&#8220;You don&#8217;t share your husband&#8217;s taste for it, it seems?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I do, really. But it&#8217;s such a treat for him to take his mother
+out!&#8221; said Bertha tactfully.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I say, Bertha, may I come back with you? I&#8217;m going back to school next
+week.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course you shall, if your mother likes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>His mother was glad to agree. She did not feel inclined to discuss Mrs.
+Pickering with the boy that evening.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Try and make him see what an awful woman she is,&#8221; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will; but it isn&#8217;t dangerous,&#8221; laughed Bertha. &#8220;Madeline is spending
+the evening with me to-morrow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, that nice quiet girl. By the way, do you know, I heard she was
+engaged to young Charles Hillier. And then somewhere else I was told it
+was Mr. Rupert Denison.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s neither,&#8221; calmly replied Bertha, &#8220;But I believe each of them
+proposed to her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>&#8220;Is that a fact? Dear me! Just fancy her refusing them both! What a
+grief for poor Mrs. Irwin!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha laughed as she remembered that as a matter of fact Madeline had
+accepted both, within two days.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI
+<br />
+<br />NEWS FROM VENICE</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">MADELINE was sitting one afternoon with her mother in their little
+Chippendale flat, all inlaid mahogany and old-fashioned chintz, china in
+cabinets, and miniatures on crimson velvet; it was so perfectly in
+keeping that the very parlourmaid&#8217;s cap looked Chippendale, and it
+somehow suggested Hugh Thomson&#8217;s illustrations to Jane Austen&#8217;s books.
+Mrs. Irwin and Madeline were not, however, in the least degree like Miss
+Austen&#8217;s heroines and their mothers, except that Mrs. Irwin, though very
+thin and elegant, had this one resemblance to the immortal Mrs. Bennet
+in &#8220;Pride and Prejudice&#8221;: &#8220;the serious object of her life was to get her
+daughter married; its solace, gossiping and news.&#8221; Also she had much of
+the same querulousness, and complained every night of nerves, and each
+morning of insomnia.</p>
+
+<p>Madeline was reading John Addington Symonds&#8217; Renaissance and everything
+that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> she could get on the subject of Italian history and cinquecento
+art. These studies she pursued still as a sort of monument to Rupert, or
+as a link with him. And to-day, as she was waiting for Bertha to call
+and take her out, she received a letter from him, from Venice.</p>
+
+<p>It was one of his long, friendly, cultured letters; making no allusion
+to any thoughts of becoming more than friends to each other, and no
+reference to the interlude of his proposal, or the episode of her
+engagement to Charlie. This memory seemed to have faded away, and he
+wrote in his old instructive way a long letter in his pretty little
+handwriting, speaking of gondoliers, Savonarola, hotels, pictures,
+lagoons, fashions and the weather. This last, he declared to be so
+unbearable that he thought of coming back to London before very long. He
+asked for an answer to his letter, and wished to know what she was
+reading, what concerts she had been to, and whether she had seen the
+exhibition at the Goupil Gallery.</p>
+
+<p>But though it took her back to long before the period of his
+love-letter, and he appeared to wish the whole affair to be forgotten,
+it gave her considerable satisfaction. He wanted to hear of her, and,
+what was more, he was coming back. Of course Mrs. Irwin saw that the
+letter was from him, and she remarked that she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> always said everyone
+had a right to their own letters, and that after twenty-one, nowadays,
+she supposed girls could do exactly what they liked, which she thought
+was only fair; that mothers, very rightly, hardly counted in the present
+day, were regarded as nobody, and were treated with no confidence of any
+kind, of which she thoroughly approved; that Madeline&#8217;s new coat and
+skirt suited her very badly and did not fit; and that grey had never
+been her colour.</p>
+
+<p>Madeline&#8217;s reply to this was to place the long letter into her mother&#8217;s
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>Having read it, Mrs. Irwin said she did not wish to force anybody&#8217;s
+confidence, and she was evidently disappointed at its contents. However,
+she advised her daughter to answer without loss of time.</p>
+
+<p>The conversation was interrupted by Bertha&#8217;s arrival.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You know my brother-in-law, Clifford?&#8221; she said. &#8220;The funny boy has
+&#8216;littery&#8217; tastes and began writing an historical play! But he got tired
+of it and now he&#8217;s taken to writing verses. I&#8217;ve brought you one of his
+poems; they&#8217;re so funny I thought it would amuse you. Fancy if a brother
+of Percy&#8217;s should grow up to be a &#8216;littery gent&#8217;. I suspect it to be
+addressed to the mother of his beloved friend, Pickering. He is devoted
+to her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>&#8220;Where are you going to-day?&#8221; inquired Mrs. Irwin.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m taking Madeline to see Miss Belvoir. She has rather amusing
+afternoons. Her brother, Fred Belvoir, whom she lives with, is a curious
+sort of celebrity. When he went down from Oxford they had a sort of
+funeral procession because he was so popular. He&#8217;s known on every
+race-course; he&#8217;s a great hunting man, an authority on musical comedy,
+and is literary too&#8212;he writes for <i>Town Topics</i>. Miss Belvoir is the
+most good-natured woman in the world, and so intensely hospitable that
+she asks everyone to lunch or dinner the first time she meets them, and
+sometimes without having been introduced, and she asks everyone to bring
+their friends. They have a charming flat on the Thames Embankment and a
+dear little country house called The Lurch, where her brother often
+leaves her. They&#8217;re mad on private theatricals, too, and are always
+dressing up.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It sounds rather fun,&#8221; said Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not very exclusive,&#8221; suggested her mother.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, not a bit. But it&#8217;s great fun,&#8221; said Bertha, &#8220;and I&#8217;ve heard people
+say that you can be as exclusive as you like at Miss Belvoir&#8217;s by
+bringing your own set and talking only to them. People who go to her
+large parties often don&#8217;t know her by sight; she&#8217;s so lost in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
+crowd, and she never remembers anybody, or knows them again. To be ever
+so little artistic is a sufficient passport to be asked to the
+Belvoirs&#8217;. In fact if a brother-in-law of a friend of yours once sent an
+article to a magazine which was not inserted, or if your second cousin
+once met Tree at a party, and was not introduced to him, that is quite
+sufficient to make you a welcome guest there. Now that my little
+brother-in-law has written a poem, I shall have a <i>raison d&#8217;&#234;</i> in
+being there. You&#8217;ll see, Madeline, you&#8217;ll enjoy yourself.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII
+<br />
+<br />ANOTHER ANONYMOUS LETTER</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="Open quote" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap">OH, Bertha, I&#8217;ve heard from Rupert again,&#8221; said Madeline, as they drove
+along.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I saw you&#8217;d had a letter from that talented young cul-de-sac,&#8221; replied
+Bertha.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing. I didn&#8217;t mean anything. I like to tease you, and you must
+confess that he&#8217;s the sort of man&#8212;well, nothing ever seems to get much
+forrarder with him! What does he say?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s just the sort of letter he wrote long before he ever dreamt of
+proposing to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I think that&#8217;s rather a good sign. He&#8217;s reassumed his early
+manner. I believe he&#8217;s going to work his way up all over again&#8212;all
+through the beaten paths, and ignore the incident that hurt his vanity,
+and then propose again. We may have rather fun here to-day. Sometimes
+there are only a few fly-blown celebrities, and sometimes there are very
+new beginners without a future, debutantes who will never <i>d&#233;buter</i>,
+singers who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> can&#8217;t sing, actors who never have any engagements, and
+editors who are just thinking of bringing out a paper. Miss Belvoir
+collects people who are unknown but prominent, noticeable and yet
+obscure. Here we are.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>While Bertha and Madeline were being entertained in Miss Belvoir&#8217;s
+drawing-room something more serious was happening to Percy.</p>
+
+<p>The day after the Hilliers&#8217; party Nigel had a terrible quarrel with his
+wife, and he threatened that if she ever again lost her self-control and
+disgraced him or herself by anything in the way of a scene, that he
+would leave her and never come back. This really frightened her, for she
+knew she had behaved unpardonably. She would not have minded so very
+much if he had gone away for a little while, but how was she to prevent
+the Kellynches going to the same place&#8212;even travelling with him? She
+had been amazed to see Bertha. At the time she sent the letters there
+had certainly been a marked change, a new movement, as she thought. They
+had had an effect, without a doubt, though how or what she hardly knew,
+but she supposed she had roused Percy&#8217;s suspicions and he had stopped
+the meetings. And then Mrs. Kellynch calmly came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> to the party without
+her husband, which seemed to prove she knew nothing of the letters, and
+disappeared at once with Nigel into the shaded conversation-room,
+snatching her host and openly flirting with him in the most marked way!
+It had been too much for her self-restraint. But now Mary saw she had
+gone too far. Her open fury had been less successful than her secret
+intriguing, so she apologised most humbly, entreated him to forgive her,
+and even swore never to interfere again. He was to be quite free. He
+might see Mrs. Kellynch whenever he liked. But all this was, of course,
+too late for Nigel, since Bertha herself had declined to see him again,
+and Mary resolved to start afresh. Probably the husband had lost his
+suspicions and they must be roused again. If only Bertha had told him
+all that had happened at the party, and if only Percy had frankly shown
+her the letters and concealed nothing from her, there would have been no
+more trouble. But each of them, from mistaken reasons, had concealed
+these facts from the other. So, within a week of the entertainment, when
+he had been so enchanted with her coming home early, Percy received
+another shock, another warning anonymous letter.</p>
+
+<p>It told him that his wife had made herself so conspicuous with Nigel
+Hillier that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> hostess had requested her to leave, also that their
+meetings and their intrigue were the talk of London. He was again
+advised to put a stop to it, but was not this time given any day and
+hour or place to find them.</p>
+
+<p>This time Percy said nothing to his wife. He made up his mind to have it
+out, for several reasons, with Nigel. Though he was angry and jealous,
+he now did not believe for a moment that Bertha was in any way to blame,
+but simply that Nigel must be paying her marked attention, and whatever
+the cause of the talk he was determined to stop it.</p>
+
+<p>He thought for some time about where he could have an interview with
+Nigel. He could not ask him to his own house, nor could he go and see
+him at Grosvenor Street. His former idea of talking at the club he saw
+to be impossible.</p>
+
+<p>He sat down and wrote:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="nb">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Dear Hillier</span>,&#8212;I want to have a talk with you. Will you come and
+see me at my chambers at four o&#8217;clock the day after to-morrow? No. 7
+Essex Court, Temple. Yours sincerely,</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">&#8220;Percival Kellynch</span>.&#8221;<br />
+</p></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>Nigel was amazed to receive this, and rather alarmed too. It was about a
+week since he had had Bertha&#8217;s little letter, but he had made no attempt
+to see her since.</p>
+
+<p>He answered immediately that he would call at the time appointed and
+passed a very restless day and night beforehand.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span><a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII
+<br />
+<br />AN INTERVIEW</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">NIGEL, filled with curiosity, and rather anxious, arrived punctually to
+the moment. He was shown into Percy&#8217;s chambers by a stout and
+prosperous-looking middle-aged clerk, with a gold watch-chain.</p>
+
+<p>He waited there for some minutes, walking slowly up and down the room
+and examining it. It was a very dull, serious room, almost depressing.
+On the large table lay bulbous important-looking briefs, tied up with
+red tape. Framed caricatures of judges and eminent barristers from
+<i>Vanity Fair</i> hung round the walls. The furniture was scarce, large and
+heavy. On the mantelpiece was a framed photograph with a closed leather
+cover. It looked interesting and expensive, and Nigel with his quick
+movements had the curiosity to go across the room to open it. It
+contained two lovely photographs of Bertha: one in furs and a hat, the
+other in evening dress. It irritated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> Nigel. &#8230; A sound of footsteps
+gave him only just time to close it with a spring, and sit down.</p>
+
+<p>Percy came in looking as Nigel had never seen him look before. There had
+been an unimportant case in court, but he had been unable to get away
+before. He was so orderly as a rule that he detested keeping anybody
+waiting. He looked flushed and hurried, and his black smooth hair was
+extraordinarily rough and wild. Of course, Nigel remembered, he had just
+taken off his wig. There was a red line on his forehead, the mark left
+by this ornament. The effect made him look like a different person. He
+threw off his coat and spoke seriously and rather formally.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sorry, Hillier. Delayed in court. Hope I haven&#8217;t kept you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It doesn&#8217;t matter in the least,&#8221; Nigel answered in his cheery way.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel was looking exceedingly at ease, and happy, though the manner was
+really assumed to-day. He was very smartly dressed, with light gloves
+and a buttonhole of violets, and looked a gay contrast to Percy, with
+his unusually rough hair and solemn expression.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was very interested. I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ve ever seen a barrister&#8217;s
+chambers before. Jolly rooms you&#8217;ve got here. What a charming place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> the
+Temple is. &#8230; Well! I&#8217;ve been simply dying of curiosity,&#8221; he went on,
+with a pleasant smile.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sit down,&#8221; said Percy. &#8220;Have a cigarette?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel lighted up. Percy did not.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s not very pleasant what I want to say to you. It&#8217;s simply that I
+don&#8217;t want you to come to our house any more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel looked surprised and coloured slightly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And may I ask your reason?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see why I should give it, but I will. I don&#8217;t wish you to see
+my wife any more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This is very extraordinary, Kellynch! Why?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve reason to believe that your old friendship has been the cause of
+some talk&#8212;some scandal. I don&#8217;t like it. I won&#8217;t have it, and that&#8217;s
+sufficient. I insist on you avoiding her in future.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel stared blankly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can only agree of course. I&#8217;ll do just as you tell me. But I think,
+as we&#8217;ve known each other so long, that it would be only fair for you to
+tell me what is your reason for thinking this.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel walked up and down the room, turned suddenly and said: &#8220;What has
+put this idea into your head?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy hesitated a moment.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>&#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you if you like. But, mind, I want no explanations. I needn&#8217;t
+say,&#8221; he glanced at the closed photograph, &#8220;that I could have no doubt
+of any kind. &#8230; But I have a right to choose my friends and my wife&#8217;s
+also.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She doesn&#8217;t object?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy frowned and looked him straight in the face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I undertake to say she will not object. We&#8217;ll make this conversation as
+short as we can. You&#8217;ve asked me my reason and I&#8217;ll give it you. I&#8217;ve
+had a series of extraordinary anonymous letters concerning you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel stared, horrified.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She knows nothing about it,&#8221; continued Percy, &#8220;and I attach no
+importance to them, except, as I say, they show that your acquaintance
+must have been misconstrued, and I won&#8217;t have a shadow &#8230; on her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This is rather hard on me, Kellynch. However, I have the satisfaction
+of knowing my conscience is absolutely clear, and of course, I&#8217;ll do
+just as you wish. Have you any objection to showing me the letters?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>After a moment&#8217;s pause, Percy said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. I don&#8217;t know that I have. I&#8217;ve got them here. I meant to shove them
+in the fire, but I&#8217;ll let you read them first, if you like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>He went to a drawer, unlocked it, gave Nigel the letters, and watched
+him while he read them.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>The moment Nigel glanced at them he knew they were written by Mary. He
+remembered by the dates when she had had the typewriter; he remembered,
+even, seeing some of the white notepaper. He read them all. Then he
+looked up and said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Kellynch, it&#8217;s good of you to show these to me. I&#8217;m sorry to say I know
+who wrote them. The earlier ones telling of the appointments are all
+perfectly true, but entirely misrepresented. They can all be explained.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I understand that,&#8221; said Percy. &#8220;Of course the suggestion and the
+impression the writer tries to give are absolutely false.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quite so. May I burn the letters now?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was a fire and Nigel threw them into it. He saw no point in
+keeping them to confront Mary with. She would confess anyhow.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I ask one thing more?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My wife knows nothing about them,&#8221; repeated Percy.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel thought what a pity that was. If she had, she would not have come
+to the party; things might have been tided over. But now. &#8230; He had no
+hope of the wish of his life, he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> as furious as a spoilt child who
+is deprived of a favourite toy&#8212;or, rather, disappointed of all hopes of
+getting one. He became more and more angry with Percy and longed to
+annoy him. The fellow was too satisfied&#8212;too lucky&#8212;he had everything
+too much his own way!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I ask one thing?&#8221; said Nigel, as the letters were burning and he
+gave them one last irritated touch with the poker, &#8220;may I ask, does this
+affair give you the impression that I&#8212;only I naturally&#8212;had
+any&#8212;er&#8212;motives in trying to see Mrs. Kellynch often? If I may put it
+plainly, did you think I cared for her in a way that I had no right to?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;To tell you the honest truth,&#8221; said Percy, &#8220;as I choose to be frank
+with you, I won&#8217;t say you had &#8230; motives, but I have the impression
+that you&#8212;er&#8212;admire her too much.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel waited a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And there you are perfectly right, Kellynch.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy started up, looking a little pale.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Nigel had got a little of his revenge.</p>
+
+<p>He had annoyed the comfortable Percy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But let me say that all this time I have never, never shown it by word
+or look. Our talks were almost entirely about Madeline Irwin and my
+brother, or about Rupert Denison. Your wife is so exceedingly kind and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
+good that she wished to see Miss Madeline as happy as herself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes, I know all that,&#8221; said Percy impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall follow your wishes to the very letter,&#8221; said Nigel. &#8220;You see
+how very open I&#8217;ve been. How will you explain to her that I drop your
+acquaintance?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I shall tell her now,&#8221; said Percy, &#8220;that I had received a
+letter and that I&#8217;ve seen you. But I shall tell her we parted the best
+of friends, and nothing must be done, above all things, to annoy or
+agitate her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He looked at the closed leather case again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Just now I want to take special care of her. I daresay she won&#8217;t notice
+not meeting you, as we&#8217;re not going out in the evening the rest of the
+season nor entertaining.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel looked amazed. An idea occurred to him that caused him absurd
+mortification. It dawned upon his mind that perhaps Bertha was going to
+have her wish. If so, he would be forgotten more completely than ever.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Forgive me for asking, Kellynch. I think you&#8217;ve been very good to me,
+really. I trust your wife is not ill?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ill?&#8212;oh dear, no.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Percy smiled a smile that to Nigel seemed maddeningly complacent. &#8220;She
+merely wants<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> a little care for a time. We shall go to the country very
+early this year. As a matter of fact, it&#8217;s something she&#8217;s very pleased
+about.&#8221; He stopped.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel gave a pale smile. Percy was too irritating!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, you were right not to worry her about the letters. I&#8217;m very sorry
+for the whole thing. I think it&#8217;s been hard on me, Kellynch.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He stood up.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye, Hillier!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel held out his hand; Percy shook it coldly.</p>
+
+<p>As he went to the door, taking up his hat and stick, Nigel said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I sincerely hope you won&#8217;t miss me!&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span><a name="XXIX" id="XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX
+<br />
+<br />NIGEL AND MARY</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">NIGEL rushed back. On his way, he decided that he had got a real excuse
+for a holiday; he had every right to go away for a time from such a
+wife; and he found himself thinking chiefly about where he would go and
+how he would amuse himself. If the husband had only known it, Bertha had
+already, if not exactly forbidden him the house, discouraged his
+calling, almost as distinctly, though more kindly, than Percy did.
+Still, if Percy had not given him that piece of information, he would
+have remained in London, and left it to chance that they might meet
+again somehow. He was such an optimist, and was really so very much in
+love with her. Curious that this news of Bertha should annoy and should
+excite him so much! Why, it seemed to him to be a matter of more
+importance and far more interest than in his own wife&#8217;s case. That he
+had taken quite as a matter of course, an ordinary everyday occurrence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
+&#8220;which would give her something to do.&#8221; He was really disappointed when
+he found that Mary did not absorb herself in her children, and found she
+was only anxious&#8212;foolishly anxious&#8212;that he should not think that they
+could take his place as companions.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel was affectionate by nature, and if Mary had insisted on that
+note&#8212;if she had made him proud of his children, encouraged his
+affection for them, if she had played the madonna&#8212;his affection for her
+would have been immensely increased. She would have had a niche in his
+heart&#8212;a respect and tenderness, even if she had never been able to make
+him entirely faithful, which, perhaps, only one woman could have done.
+But, instead of that, Mary had been jealous and silly and violently
+exacting. She wished him to be her slave and under her thumb, and yet
+she wanted him to be her lover. Every word she had ever spoken,
+everything she had ever done since their marriage had had the exact
+contrary effect of what she desired. She had sent him further and
+further away from her. That she knew he had married her for her money
+embittered her and yet made her tyrannical. She wanted to take advantage
+of that fact, in a way that no man could endure. Yet she was to be
+pitied. Anyone so exacting must be terribly unhappy.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>It was not in Nigel, either, to care long for anyone who cared for him
+so much. And even if Bertha, who was now his ideal and his dream, had
+been as devoted to him as Mary, and shown it in anything like the same
+sort of way, he would in time have become cool and ceased to appreciate
+her. He thought now that he would always adore her, and yet, when they
+had been actually engaged, it had been he who had allowed it to lapse.
+He might think that he cared for her far more now and understood her
+better, and now no worldly object would induce him to give up the
+possibility of their passing their lives together. And yet the fact
+remained. She had loved him as a girl&#8212;worshipped him. But he had broken
+it off. So now that he has lost all hope of his wish, he does not,
+strictly speaking, deserve any sympathy; yet all emotional suffering
+appeals to one&#8217;s pity rather than to one&#8217;s sense of justice. And Nigel
+was miserable.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>The letter Bertha had sent him the other day, though it put an end to
+their meeting, had a sort of fragrance; a tender kindness about it. He
+could make himself believe that she also was a little sorry. Perhaps she
+did it more from motives of duty than from her own wish; something about
+it left a little glamour, and he had still hope that somehow or other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
+circumstances might alter so much that even so they might be friends
+again. But now! it was very different. Percy&#8217;s quiet satisfaction showed
+that they were on the most perfect terms, and he could imagine Bertha&#8217;s
+delight&#8212;her high spirits&#8212;and her charming little ways of showing her
+pleasure. It forced itself on his mind against his will, that she was
+very much in love with Percy after all these ten years, difficult as it
+seemed to him to realise it.</p>
+
+<p>So they were hardly going out any more! So they were going to the
+country early to have a sort of second honeymoon! It seemed to him that
+after ten years of gay camaraderie they were now suddenly going to
+behave like lovers, like a newly married young couple.</p>
+
+<p>How sickening it was, and how absorbed she would be now! People always
+made much more of an event like that when it happened after some years.
+Personally he tried to think it made him like her less, at any rate it
+seemed to make her far more removed from him. But all the real
+estrangement had been caused undoubtedly by his wife.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>On the whole, to be just, that pompous ass, as he called him, Percy
+Kellynch, had really behaved very well. He had accused Nigel of nothing;
+he had suggested nothing about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> his wife, who was still, evidently, on a
+pedestal; he had really done the right thing and been considerate to her
+in the highest degree. Any man who cared for his wife would have
+naturally requested him, Nigel, to keep away. And it was really decent,
+frightfully decent of him, to let him see the letters, really kind and
+fair. Of course what put old Percy in a good temper, in spite of all,
+was this news, and, no doubt, Bertha was being angelic to him.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel made up his mind to try and throw it off. But he couldn&#8217;t do it by
+staying with his wife.</p>
+
+<p>To look at her would be agonising now.</p>
+
+<p>Still he made up his mind he would be calm, he would not be unkind to
+her; he would be firm, and, as far as possible, have no sort of scene.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>When he went in, she was sitting in the boudoir looking out of the
+window as usual. She saw him before he came in. It was not six o&#8217;clock
+yet and quite light.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, Nigel darling?&#8221; She ran up to him.</p>
+
+<p>He moved away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Please don&#8217;t, Mary. I&#8217;ve got something serious to speak to you about.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She turned pale, guiltily.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>&#8220;What is it? What on earth is it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You shall hear. Shall we talk about it now, or wait till after dinner?
+I think I&#8217;d rather wait. I&#8217;ve got a bit of a headache.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;After dinner, then,&#8221; murmured Mary.</p>
+
+<p>This was very unlike her. Had she had nothing on her conscience, nothing
+she was afraid of, she would never have ceased questioning and worrying
+him to get it all out of him.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>He went up to his room, and asked her to leave him, and this she
+actually did. She wanted time to think!</p>
+
+<p>With the weak good nature that was in Nigel, curiously side by side with
+a certain cruel hardness, he now felt a little sorry for her. It must be
+awful to be waiting like this. And she really had been in the wrong. It
+was an appalling thing to do&#8212;mad, hysterical, dangerous. It might have
+caused far more trouble than it had! Suppose Percy had believed it all!</p>
+
+<p>Nigel thought of scandals, divorces, all sorts of things. Yes, after
+all, Kellynch had really been kind; and clever. He was not a bad sort.
+Then Nigel found that last little letter of Bertha&#8217;s. How sweet it was!
+But he saw through it now, that she was deeply happy and didn&#8217;t want to
+be bothered with him. She forgave the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> scene his wife had made at the
+party, as not one woman in a hundred would do&#8212;but she didn&#8217;t want him.
+The moment she realised that he wanted to flirt with her, that there was
+even a chance of his loving her, she was simply bored. Yes, that was
+it&#8212;gay, amusing, witty, attractive Nigel bored her! Dull, serious,
+conventional Percy did not! She was in love with him.</p>
+
+<p>In books and plays it was always the other way: it was the husband that
+was the bore; but romances and comedies are often far away from life.
+Curious as it seemed, this was life, and Nigel realised it. He destroyed
+her letter and went down to dinner.</p>
+
+<p>They were quiet at dinner, talked a little only for the servants. Nigel
+asked about the little girl.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How&#8217;s Marjorie getting on with her music lessons?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mary answered in a low voice that the teacher thought she had talent.
+&#8230;</p>
+
+<p>They were left alone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, what is it, Nigel?&#8221; She spoke in querulous, frightened voice.</p>
+
+<p>They were sitting in the boudoir again. Coffee had been left on the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel lighted a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>He was still a little sorry for her. Then he said:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>&#8220;Look here, Mary, I&#8217;m sorry to say I&#8217;ve found out you&#8217;ve been doing a
+very terrible thing! I ask you not to deny it, because I know it. The
+only chance of our ever being in peace together again, or in peace at
+all, is for you to speak the truth.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve forgiven heaps of things&#8212;frightful tempers, mad suspicions, that
+disgraceful scene you made at our party&#8212;but I always thought you were
+honourable and truthful. What you&#8217;ve done is very dishonourable. Don&#8217;t
+make it worse by denying it.&#8221; He paused. &#8220;You have written five
+anonymous letters, dictated in typewriting, about me and Mrs. Kellynch
+to her husband. I don&#8217;t know what you thought, but you certainly tried
+to give the impression that our harmless conversations meant something
+more. That there was an intrigue going on. Did you really think this,
+may I ask?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I did,&#8221; she said, in a low voice, looking down.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, first allow me to assure you that you are entirely wrong. It was
+completely false. Can&#8217;t you see now how terrible it was to suggest these
+absolute lies as facts to her husband? Did you write the letters?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I did; I was in despair. I couldn&#8217;t think of anything else to stop
+it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>Nigel gave a sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank God you&#8217;ve admitted it, Mary. I&#8217;m glad of that. At least if we
+have the truth between us, we know where we are.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did she&#8212;did she&#8212;tell you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She knows nothing whatever about it,&#8221; said Nigel. &#8220;She has never been
+told, and never will be. You need worry no more about the letters. Her
+husband gave them to me this afternoon, and I destroyed them before him.
+And he doesn&#8217;t know who wrote them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nigel forgot that he had told Percy or did not choose to say.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They&#8217;re completely wiped out, and will be forgotten by the person to
+whom you sent them. The whole affair is cleared up and finished and
+regarded as an unfortunate act of folly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nigel!&#8221; Mary burst into tears. &#8220;You&#8217;re very good.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now listen, Mary &#8230; I can&#8217;t endure to stay with you any more at
+present.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What!&#8221; she screamed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If I continue this existence with you I shall grow to hate it. I wish
+to go away for a time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You want to leave me!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Unless I go now for a time to try and get over this act of yours, I
+tell you frankly that I shall leave you altogether.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>He spoke sternly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you will have the decency not to oppose my wishes, I will go away
+for six or seven weeks, and when I come back we&#8217;ll try and take up our
+life again a little differently. You must be less jealous and exacting
+and learn to control yourself. I will then try to forget and we&#8217;ll try
+to get on better together. But I must go. My nerves won&#8217;t stand it any
+longer.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She sobbed, leaning her head on the back of an arm-chair.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you agree to this without the slightest objection,&#8221; said Nigel, &#8220;I
+will come and join you and the children somewhere in the first week in
+August. Till then I&#8217;m going abroad, but I don&#8217;t exactly know where. You
+shall have my address, and, of course, I shall write. I may possibly go
+to Venice. I have a friend there.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She still said nothing, but cried bitterly. She was in despair at the
+idea of his leaving her, but secretly felt she might have been let off
+less lightly.</p>
+
+<p>One thing Nigel resolved. He would not let her know he had been
+forbidden the house. She would be too pleased at having succeeded. But
+he said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One thing you may as well know, I shall see nothing more of the
+Kellynches, because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> they are going into the country in a few days. They
+have had no quarrel, they are perfectly devoted to each other, and she
+has not the faintest idea of it. So you see you haven&#8217;t done the harm,
+or caused the pain you tried to, except to me. I was ashamed when I
+saw&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Nigel, forgive me! I am sorry! Don&#8217;t go away!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Unless I go away now, I shall go altogether. Don&#8217;t cry. Try to cheer
+up!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>With these words he left the room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span><a name="XXX" id="XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX
+<br />
+<br />MISS BELVOIR</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">WE left Bertha and Madeline in the lift going up to call on Miss
+Belvoir. This lady was sitting by the fire, holding a screen. She came
+forward and greeted them with great cordiality. She was a small, dark,
+amiable-looking woman about thirty. Her hair and eyes were of a
+blackness one rarely sees, her complexion was clear and bright, her
+figure extremely small and trim. Without being exactly pretty, she was
+very agreeable to the eye, and also had the attraction of looking
+remarkably different from other people. Indeed her costume was so
+uncommon as to be on the verge of eccentricity. Her face had a slightly
+Japanese look, and she increased this effect by wearing a gown of which
+a part was decidedly Japanese. In fact it was a kimono covered with
+embroidery in designs consisting of a flight of storks, some
+chrysanthemums, and a few butterflies, in the richest shades of blue. In
+the left-hand corner were two little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> yellow men fighting with a sword
+in each hand; otherwise it was all blue. It was almost impossible to
+keep one&#8217;s eyes from this yellow duel; the little embroidered figures
+looked so fierce and emotional and appeared to be enjoying themselves so
+much.</p>
+
+<p>The room in which Miss Belvoir received her friends was very large, long
+and low, and had a delightful view of the river from the Embankment. It
+was a greyish afternoon, vague and misty, and one saw from the windows
+views that looked exactly like pictures by Whistler. The room was
+furnished in a Post-Impressionist style, chiefly in red, black and
+brown; the colours were all plain&#8212;that is to say, there were no designs
+except on the ceiling, which was cosily covered with large, brilliantly
+tinted, life-sized parrots.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Belvoir&#8217;s brother, Fred, often declared that when he came home
+late, which he generally did&#8212;between six and nine in the morning were
+his usual hours&#8212;he always had to stop himself from getting a gun, and
+he was afraid that some day he might lose his self-control and be
+tempted to shoot the parrots. He was an excellent shot.</p>
+
+<p>The room was full of low bookcases crammed with books, and large fat
+cushions on the floor. They looked extremely comfortable, but as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
+matter of fact nobody ever liked sitting on them. When English people
+once overcame their natural shyness so far as to sit down on them, they
+were afraid they would never be able to get up again.</p>
+
+<p>Three or four people were dotted about the room, but no one had ventured
+on the cushions. There was one young lady whose hair was done in the
+early Victorian style, parted in the middle, with bunches of curls each
+side. As far as her throat she appeared to be strictly a Victorian&#8212;very
+English, about 1850&#8212;but from that point she suddenly became Oriental,
+and for the rest was dressed principally in what looked like beaded
+curtains.</p>
+
+<p>Leaning on the mantelpiece and smoking a cigarette with great ease of
+manner was a striking and agreeable-looking young man, about eight and
+twenty, whom Miss Belvoir introduced as Mr. Bevan Fairfield. He was fair
+and good-looking, very dandified in dress, and with a rather humorously
+turned-up nose and an excessively fluent way of speaking.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was just scolding Miss Belvoir,&#8221; he said, &#8220;when you came in. She&#8217;s
+been playing me the trick she&#8217;s always playing. She gets me here under
+the pretext that some celebrity&#8217;s coming and then they don&#8217;t turn up.
+Signor Semolini, the Futurist, I was asked to meet. And then she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> gets a
+telegram&#8212;or says she does&#8212;that he can&#8217;t come. Very odd, very curious,
+they never can come&#8212;at any rate when I&#8217;m here. Some people would rather
+say, &#8216;Fancy, I was asked to Miss Belvoir&#8217;s the other day to meet
+Semolini, only he didn&#8217;t turn up,&#8217; than not say anything at all. Some
+people think it&#8217;s a distinction not to have met Semolini at Miss
+Belvoir&#8217;s.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s quite a satisfactory distinction,&#8221; remarked Bertha. &#8220;Semolini has
+been to see us once, but he really isn&#8217;t very interesting.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, but still you&#8217;re able to say that. I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t be able to say, &#8216;I met
+Semolini the other day, and, do you know, he&#8217;s such a disappointment.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I couldn&#8217;t help it, Bevan,&#8221; murmured Miss Belvoir, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I know you couldn&#8217;t help it. Of course you couldn&#8217;t help it. That&#8217;s
+just it&#8212;you never expected the man. I went to lunch with another liar
+last week&#8212;I beg your pardon, Miss Belvoir&#8212;who asked me to meet Dus&#233;.
+She was so sorry she couldn&#8217;t come at the last minute. She sent a
+telegram. Well, all I ask is, let me see the telegram.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you couldn&#8217;t; he &#8217;phoned,&#8221; objected Miss Belvoir.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So you <i>say</i>,&#8221; returned the young man, as he passed a cup of tea to
+Bertha.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>&#8220;Will you have China tea and lemon and be smart, or India tea and milk
+and sugar and enjoy it? I don&#8217;t mind owning that I like stewed tea&#8212;I
+like a nice comfortable washer-woman&#8217;s cup of tea myself. Well, I
+suppose we&#8217;re all going to the Indian ball at the Albert Hall. What are
+you all going as? I suppose Miss Belvoir&#8217;s going as a nautch-girl, or a
+naughty girl or something.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m going as a Persian dancer,&#8221; said Miss Belvoir.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not going as anything,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;I hate fancy balls. One takes
+such a lot of trouble and then people look only at their own dresses. If
+you want to dress up for yourself, you&#8217;d enjoy it just as much if you
+dressed up alone, I think.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, of course it&#8217;s not so much fun for women,&#8221; said Mr. Fairfield.
+&#8220;You are always more or less in fancy dress; it&#8217;s no change for you. But
+for us it is fun. The last one I went to I had a great success as a
+forget-me-not. Miss Belvoir and I met an elephant, an enormous creature,
+galumphing along, knocking everybody down, and wasn&#8217;t it clever of me? I
+recognised it! &#8216;Good heavens!&#8217; I exclaimed, &#8216;this must be the
+Mitchells!&#8217; And so it turned out to be. Mr. Mitchell was one leg, Mrs.
+Mitchell the other, two others were their great friends<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> and their
+little nephew was the trunk. Frightfully uncomfortable, but they did
+attract a great deal of attention. They nearly died of the stuffiness,
+but they took a prize. My friend Linsey usually takes a prize, though he
+always contrives some agonising torture for himself. The last time he
+was a letter-box, and he was simply dying of thirst and unable to move.
+I saved his life by pouring some champagne down the slit for the
+letters, on the chance. Another friend of mine who was dressed in a real
+suit of armour had to be lifted into the taxi, and when he arrived home
+he couldn&#8217;t get out. When he at last persuaded the cabman to carry him
+to his door&#8212;it was six o&#8217;clock in the morning&#8212;the man said, &#8216;Oh, never
+mind, sir, we&#8217;ve had gentlemen worse than this!&#8217; And the poor fellow
+hadn&#8217;t had a single drop or crumb the whole evening, because his visor
+was down and he couldn&#8217;t move his arm to lift it up. If you went as
+anything, Mrs. Kellynch, you ought to be a China Shepherdess. I never
+saw anyone so exactly like one.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And what ought I to go as?&#8221; asked Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You would look your best as a Florentine page,&#8221; replied Mr. Fairfield.
+&#8220;Or both of you would look very nice as late Italians.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m afraid we shall be late Englishwomen unless we go now,&#8221; said
+Bertha. &#8220;I can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> only stay a very few minutes to-day, Miss Belvoir.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They persuaded her to remain a little longer, and Mr. Fairfield
+continued to chatter on during the remainder of their visit. He did not
+succeed in persuading them to join in making up the party for the Indian
+ball.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span><a name="XXXI" id="XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI
+<br />
+<br />MARY&#8217;S PLAN</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">MARY was so terrified that Nigel might keep his threat altogether and
+really leave her permanently that she made less opposition than he
+expected. She felt instinctively that it was her only chance of getting
+him back. She could see when he really meant a thing, and this time it
+was evident he intended to follow out his scheme, and she could not help
+reflecting that it might have been very much worse. How much more angry
+many husbands might have been! On the whole she had been let off fairly
+lightly. There was this much of largeness in Nigel&#8217;s nature that he
+could not labour a point, or nag, or scold, or bully. He was really
+shocked and disgusted, besides being very angry at what she had done,
+and he did not at all like to dwell on it. He was even grateful that she
+spared him discussions of the subject, and sincerely thankful that she
+had admitted it. All men with any generosity in their temperament<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> are
+disarmed by frankness, and most irritated by untruth. He wondered at her
+daring, and when she humbly owned she saw how dreadful it was&#8212;that she
+saw it in the right light and would never be tempted to do anything of
+the sort again&#8212;he was glad to forgive her. But he wanted to go away and
+forget it, and he certainly made up his mind to make the whole affair an
+excuse for having more freedom. He had never been away without her for
+more than a day, and he looked forward to it with great pleasure. He
+determined to let his journey help to cure him of his passion for
+Bertha, though it seemed at present an almost impossible task.</p>
+
+<p>He was resolved to strike when the iron was hot, and to get away while
+she was in this docile mood. She was gentle and quiet and seemed very
+unhappy, but made no objections to his plans; she would not, perhaps,
+have minded his leaving her for a day or two, since she felt
+uncomfortable and in the wrong, but she dreaded his being away for
+weeks. He said he would join Rupert at Venice; and this she rather
+preferred, as Rupert was known to be a quiet, steady, studious young
+man.</p>
+
+<p>But when the last moment came and the packed trunks were put on the cab,
+he had said good-bye to her and the children and that last terrible bang
+of the hall door resounded in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> heart, she could not look out of the
+window in her usual place. She had felt the agony known to all loving
+hearts, the conviction that a traveller is already at a distance before
+he goes. He is no longer with her when his thoughts are with stations
+and tickets&#8212;indeed the real parting is long before he starts. Then the
+unconscious sparkle of pleasure in his eyes as he imagines himself away!
+He had gone already before he went; she did not want to see the last of
+him. She went up to her room and locked the door, and threw herself on
+the sofa in a terrible fit of despair and jealousy. Jealousy still, that
+was her great fear of his going away. He would forget her and be
+unfaithful, she thought. &#8230;</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>She suffered terribly that evening, and the next day resolved to take a
+somewhat singular step. If she had been doing Bertha an injustice, as it
+seemed, if Bertha was not seeing him at all, why should she not go and
+see her? She felt instinctively that besides getting the truth out of
+her, and perhaps apologising for what had happened at the party, Bertha
+might give her some advice. Everyone said she was so kind and clever.
+She decided not to write, but she rang up on the telephone and asked if
+Bertha would receive her at three o&#8217;clock. She felt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> a strange
+curiosity, a longing to see her. She received the answer, Mrs. Kellynch
+would be delighted to see her at any time in the afternoon.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span><a name="XXXII" id="XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII
+<br />
+<br />PRIVATE FIREWORKS AT THE PICKERINGS&#8217;</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="Open quote" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap">I SAY, Clifford, when is your birthday?&#8221; This momentous question was
+asked of Clifford with the liveliest interest by Cissy Pickering, a
+remarkably pretty little girl of about his own age.</p>
+
+<p>They were in the gigantic and gorgeous apartment set apart as a playroom
+for the young Pickerings in Hamilton Place, Park Lane, and arranged
+partly as a gymnasium&#8212;it had all the necessities&#8212;partly as a
+schoolroom. It contained a magnificent dolls&#8217; house fitted up with Louis
+Quinze furniture and illuminated with real electric light; a miniature
+motor car in which two small people could drive themselves with
+authentic petrol round and round the polished floor; a mechanical
+rocking-horse; a miniature billiard-table and croquet set; a gramophone;
+cricket on the hearth, roller-skates; a pianola, and countless other
+luxuries.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>Decorated by illustrations of fairy tales on the walls, it was
+altogether a delightful room; made for all a child could want.</p>
+
+<p>It is all very well to say that children are happier with mud pies and
+rag dolls than with these elaborate delights. There may be something in
+this theory, but when their amusements are carried to such a point of
+luxurious and imaginative perfection it certainly gives them great and
+even unlimited enjoyment at the time. Whether such indulgence and
+realisation of youthful dreams have a good effect on the character in
+later life is a different question. At any rate, to go to tea with the
+Pickerings was the dream of all their young friends and gave them much
+to think of and long for, while it gave to the young host and hostess
+immense gratification and material pride.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My birthday? Oh, I don&#8217;t know&#8212;oh, it&#8217;s on the twenty-seventh May,&#8221;
+said Clifford, who was far more shy of the young lady than of her
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Fancy! Just fancy! and mine&#8217;s on the twenty-eighth June! <i>Isn&#8217;t</i> it
+funny!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Cissy was surprised at almost everything. It added to her popularity.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not particularly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Clifford!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>&#8220;You must be born some time or other, I mean,&#8221; he said, wriggling his
+head and twisting his feet, as he did when he felt embarrassed. Miss
+Pickering made him feel embarrassed because she asked so many direct
+personal questions, seemed so interested and surprised at everything,
+and volunteered so much private&#8212;but, it seemed to him,
+unimportant&#8212;information.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My name is Cecilia Muriel Margaret Pickering. My birthday&#8217;s on the
+twenty-eighth June, and Eustace&#8217;s birthday is on the fifteenth February.
+Isn&#8217;t it funny?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, not at all,&#8221; said Clifford.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;His name is Eustace Henry John Pickering, after father. At least John&#8217;s
+after father and Henry&#8217;s after grandpapa&#8212;I mean, mummy&#8217;s father, you
+know. Eustace is just a fancy name&#8212;a name mummy thought of. Do you like
+it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not much.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Clifford! Why not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, it&#8217;s rather a queer name.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you call him Eustace?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I call him Pickering, of course,&#8221; said Clifford. &#8220;At school we don&#8217;t
+know each other&#8217;s Christian names.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! &#8230; Did you know mine before you came here, Clifford?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>&#8220;No. I only knew he had a kiddy sister, but he didn&#8217;t tell me your
+name.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She looked rather crushed. Cissy was a lovely child with golden hair,
+parted on one side, and a dainty white and pink dress like a doll. Cissy
+was in love with Clifford, but Clifford was in love with her mother.
+This simple nursery tragedy may sound strange, but as a matter of fact
+it is a kind of thing that happens every day. Similar complications are
+to be found in almost every schoolroom.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope you don&#8217;t mind my saying that,&#8221; said Clifford, who began to be
+sorry for her. &#8220;About your being a kid. It doesn&#8217;t matter a bit&#8212;for a
+girl.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Clifford! No, I don&#8217;t mind.&#8221; She smiled at him, consoled. &#8220;Eustace
+will soon be home. He&#8217;s gone to get something.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you mind his not being here yet?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, not a bit.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You told me you had something to show me,&#8221; said the little girl.
+&#8220;You&#8217;ve been writing poetry. I <i>should</i> so like to see it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He blushed and said: &#8220;I&#8217;ve brought it. But I don&#8217;t think it&#8217;s any good.
+I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ll show it to you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, please, please, <i>please</i>, do!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll go telling everyone. Girls always do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>&#8220;I promise, I <i>swear</i> I won&#8217;t! Not a soul. Not even mummy. I never tell
+Eustace&#8217;s secrets.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should think not! Now mind you don&#8217;t, then. Will you, Cissy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, do go on, dear Clifford; because when Eustace is here we shall have
+to play games&#8212;&#8217;Happy Families&#8217; or something&#8212;and I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t have another
+chance. I believe he&#8217;s got some joke on. I hear you&#8217;ve written a play.
+Have you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I began an historical play,&#8221; said Clifford, who was beginning to
+think a little sister with proper respect for one might be rather a
+luxury, &#8220;but I chucked it. I found it was rather slow. So then I tried
+to write a poem. But I&#8217;m not going to grow up and be one of those rotten
+poets with long hair, that you read of. Don&#8217;t think that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Aren&#8217;t you? Oh, that&#8217;s right. What are you going to be, Clifford?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! I think I shall be an inventor or an explorer, and go out after the
+North or South Pole, or shoot lions.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! How splendid! Won&#8217;t you take me? I&#8217;d <i>love</i> to come!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled. &#8220;It wouldn&#8217;t do for girls.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t be a girl then. I&#8217;ll be grown-up. <i>Do</i> let me come!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>&#8220;We&#8217;ll see. Don&#8217;t bother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well! Show me the poem,&#8221; she said, for she already had the instinct to
+see that it pleased him and interested him much more to show her what he
+was doing at present than to make promises and plans about her future.</p>
+
+<p>They went and sat on the delightful wide-cushioned window-seat. Clifford
+pulled out of his pocket a crumpled paper, covered with pencil marks. He
+curled himself up, and Cissy curled herself up beside him and looked
+over his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>He began: &#8220;I&#8217;m afraid this one&#8217;s no use&#8212;no earthly&#8212;&#8212; I say, Cissy,
+take your hair out of my eyes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She shook it back and sat a little farther off, with her eyes and mouth
+open as he read in a rather gruff voice:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sonnet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s a sonnet, Clifford?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He was rather baffled. &#8220;This is.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He went on:</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">&#8220;&#8216;<i>The day when first I saw</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Her standing by the door,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>I was taken by surprise</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>By her pretty blue eyes,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And then I thought her hair</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>So very fair</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That I felt inclined to sing</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>About Mrs. Pickering.</i>&#8217;&#8221;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>&#8220;Lovely! How beautiful!&#8221; exclaimed Cissy, like a true woman. &#8220;But Mrs.
+Pickering! Fancy! Does it mean mummy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, yes. As a matter of fact it certainly <i>does</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Clifford! <i>How</i> clever! How splendid! But mustn&#8217;t she know it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no. I&#8217;d rather not. At any rate, not now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish it was to me!&#8221; exclaimed the child. &#8220;Then you needn&#8217;t be so shy
+about it. Why don&#8217;t you change it to me? Look here&#8212;like this. Say:</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">&#8220;&#8216;<i>I felt inclined to sing</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>About Cissy Pickering.</i>&#8217;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p class="noi">Cissy instead of <i>Mrs.</i>!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no, my dear. That wouldn&#8217;t do at all. It isn&#8217;t done. You can&#8217;t alter
+a sonnet to another person. If it came to that I&#8217;d sooner write one to
+you as well, some time or another, when you&#8217;re older.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, <i>do</i>, <i>dear</i> Cliff! I <i>should</i> love it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right. Perhaps I will some day. But, you see, just now I want to do
+the one about <i>her</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s very nice and polite of you,&#8221; she said in a doubting voice. &#8220;But
+you said you&#8217;d done some more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Rather. So I have. You mustn&#8217;t think it&#8217;s cheek, you know, if I call
+your mother by her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> Christian name in the poetry. It&#8217;s only for the
+rhyme.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Blushing and apologetically he read aloud in his gruff, shy voice:</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">&#8220;&#8216;<i>Geraldine, Geraldine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>She has the nicest face I have ever seen,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>She did not say</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Until the other day</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That I might call her Geraldine,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And I think she is like a Queen.</i>&#8217;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>&#8220;As a matter of fact she never said it at all,&#8221; said the boy, folding it
+up. &#8220;That&#8217;s only because it&#8217;s poetry. And I only used her name for the
+rhyme.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I see. You&#8217;re very clever!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you see any faults in it? I wish you&#8217;d tell me straight out
+exactly what you think, if you see anything wrong,&#8221; said Clifford, like
+all young writers who think they are pining for criticism but are really
+yearning for praise. &#8220;I would like,&#8221; he said, &#8220;for you to find any fault
+you possibly could! Say exactly what you really mean.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He really thought he meant it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t see <i>one</i> fault! I think it&#8217;s perfect,&#8221; replied Cissy,
+like all intelligent women in love with the writer. Her instinct warned
+her against finding any fault. Had she found any it would have been the
+only thing Clifford would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> have thought she happened to be wrong about.
+As it was, his opinion of her judgment and general mental capacity went
+up enormously, and he decided that she was a very clever kid. A decent
+little girl too, and not at all bad looking.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But aren&#8217;t they a little short, Cissy?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps they are. But you can easily make them longer, can&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, rather, of course I can.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you want mummy to see them?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no, I don&#8217;t think I do; wouldn&#8217;t she laugh at me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no, I&#8217;m sure she wouldn&#8217;t, Clifford. She&#8217;s coming to have tea with
+us to-night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, mind you don&#8217;t tell,&#8221; he said threateningly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course, I won&#8217;t. You can trust me. I say, Clifford.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you think I used to want to do?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Haven&#8217;t the slightest idea.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated a moment. &#8220;Shall I tell you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I used to want to marry Henry Ainley!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did you, though,&#8221; said Clifford, not very interested.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>&#8220;Yes. But I don&#8217;t now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you, though?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, not the least bit.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did he want to marry you?&#8221; asked Clifford. This idea occurred to him as
+being conversational, but he was still not interested.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good gracious, no!&#8221; she exclaimed. &#8220;Of course not! rather not! Why,
+he doesn&#8217;t know me. And if he did he would think I was a little girl.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, so you are,&#8221; said Clifford.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know. Shall I tell you why I don&#8217;t want to marry Henry Ainley any
+more?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You can if you want to.&#8221; These matrimonial schemes seemed to bore him,
+but he thought he ought to endure them as a matter of fair play, as she
+had listened to his poetry.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t care so much about marrying him now, because I should
+like to marry you!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Me! Oh, good Lord, I don&#8217;t want to be engaged, thanks.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Clifford, do!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;None of the chaps at school are engaged. It isn&#8217;t done. Being engaged
+is rot. Pickering isn&#8217;t engaged.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but I don&#8217;t see why we shouldn&#8217;t,&#8221; she said, pouting.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I do, and I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t be.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>&#8220;But mightn&#8217;t you later on, when we&#8217;re older?&#8221; she implored.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, no, I shouldn&#8217;t think so. Why, your mother would be very angry.
+You&#8217;re only twelve. You&#8217;re not out. You can&#8217;t be engaged before you&#8217;re
+out. Your mother would think it awful cheek of me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I won&#8217;t say anything more about it now,&#8221; she said. &#8220;But,
+Clifford, will you, <i>perhaps</i>, <i>when</i> I am out?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, good Lord! What utter bosh. How do I know what I&#8217;ll do when you&#8217;re
+out?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She began to look tearful.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, well, all right. I&#8217;ll see. Perhaps I may. Mind, I don&#8217;t promise.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He was thinking that if he refused her irrevocably and unconditionally
+he might not be asked to the house again. And he liked going on account
+of Pickering, Mrs. Pickering, and the house.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look here,&#8221; he said after a moment&#8217;s pause. &#8220;Let&#8217;s forget all about
+this. I don&#8217;t think your mother would like it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You think so much of my mother,&#8221; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I should think so, don&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, Clifford, I love her, of course.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, then, don&#8217;t you want me to like her?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes; but not much more than me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>&#8220;Oh, well, I can&#8217;t help that,&#8221; he said very decidedly.</p>
+
+<p>She looked subdued.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then you do like me a little bit too, Clifford?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, of course. I say, don&#8217;t worry.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right, I beg your pardon, Clifford. &#8230; Oh, there&#8217;s Eustace!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>His step was heard. When his friends were there his sister called him
+Pickering, not to be out of it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t you kiss me to show you&#8217;re not cross with me, Clifford?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, if you like, my dear. But we&#8217;re not engaged, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Right-o,&#8221; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her hurriedly and Eustace came in. Eustace was a big dark thin
+boy of fourteen, not good-looking or like his sister in any way, but
+with a very pleasant humorous expression. He was remarkably clever at
+school, and his reports were, with regard to work, quite unusually high.
+Conduct was not so satisfactory, though he was popular both with boys
+and masters. His two hobbies were chemistry and practical jokes.
+Unfortunately the clear distinction between the two was not always
+sufficiently marked; the one merged too frequently into the other. Hence
+occasional trouble.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>Eustace had his arms full of parcels, which looked rather exciting. He
+informed his delighted sister and friend that they were going to have
+private fireworks on the balcony.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Gracious, how ripping!&#8221; cried Clifford. &#8220;But it isn&#8217;t the fifth of
+November.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who on earth ever said it was?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it anybody&#8217;s birthday?&#8221; asked Cissy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I daresay,&#8221; said Pickering. &#8220;Sure to be.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you don&#8217;t know that it&#8217;s anybody&#8217;s birthday for a fact, do you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I do. It&#8217;s a dead cert that it&#8217;s somebody&#8217;s. Somebody&#8217;s born every
+day. It&#8217;s probably several people&#8217;s birthday.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you don&#8217;t know whose?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. I don&#8217;t know whose and I don&#8217;t want to; what does it matter? Who
+cares?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They both laughed heartily. It was so like Pickering! That was Pickering
+all over to give an exhibition of fireworks in honour of the birthday of
+somebody he didn&#8217;t know anything about, or in honour of its not being
+the fifth November.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But will mummy mind? Won&#8217;t she be afraid?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She won&#8217;t mind, because she won&#8217;t know. And she won&#8217;t be afraid because
+she and father are going out to dinner and they won&#8217;t hear anything
+about it until all the danger&#8217;s over.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> I&#8217;ve got rockets and Bengal
+lights and all sorts of things here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But suppose they catch fire to the curtains on the balcony and we have
+a fire-escape here,&#8221; suggested Cissy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, and wouldn&#8217;t that be ripping?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They admitted that it would.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have you ever been down a fire-escape, Clifford?&#8221; asked Pickering.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Me? Down a fire-escape? Wait a minute, let me think. No, no. Now I come
+to think of it, upon my word, I don&#8217;t think I ever have. Not down a
+<i>fire-escape</i>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, I thought not,&#8221; said Pickering knowingly, as if he had spent his
+life doing nothing else. &#8220;No, you wouldn&#8217;t have.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, have you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Me?&#8221; said Pickering. &#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t know that I have, <i>exactly</i>. But I
+know all about it. Besides I once drove to a fire with one of the
+firemen. It was jolly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you&#8217;re not going to give a fire-escape performance to-night, are
+you? I thought you were only going to have fireworks.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, of course, that&#8217;s all, and there&#8217;s no danger really. How surprised
+the people in the street will be when they see those ripping rockets go
+whizzing up! I daresay we shall have a crowd round us.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>&#8220;But I say, Eustace. Won&#8217;t mummy say it&#8217;s <i>vulgar</i>?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s vulgar?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, to have fireworks. She says we oughtn&#8217;t to attract too much
+attention and do anything ostentatious. She often says so.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my dear, that&#8217;s all right. These are <i>private</i> fireworks! No one
+will know about it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you&#8217;ll have to tell Wenham,&#8221; said Cissy.</p>
+
+<p>Wenham was a confidential butler who helped Pickering out of many
+scrapes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course I shall tell Wenham; at least, I shall as soon as they have
+started. Now shut up about it. Here&#8217;s mummy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pretty Mrs. Pickering joined them at tea, played games with them&#8212;they
+did some delightful charades&#8212;and amused them and herself until it was
+time for her to go and dress for dinner, leaving Clifford more enchanted
+with her than ever.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>About a quarter to eight the children had the house more or less to
+themselves. Cissy&#8217;s governess had a holiday and the aged nurse (who had
+no sort of control over Pickering) was the only person there who had
+even a shadow of authority. She was to see that Cissy didn&#8217;t play wild
+games, and went to bed at half-past eight, but as a matter of fact the
+aged nurse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> did neither. Cissy stayed with the boys as long as they
+would allow her. At last the joyous moment arrived, they went on the
+balcony and Pickering started his first rocket. Cissy, a little
+frightened, clung to Clifford.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Suppose we have a crowd round the house,&#8221; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You see how easy it is,&#8221; Pickering said. &#8220;Anyone with a little sense
+can do it. Now! Now, Cissy! get out of the way!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They waited and waited. But, alas! nothing happened. He tried again and
+yet again, but it turned out a failure, the sort of tragedy that is more
+disappointing than any danger or even any accident. &#8230; It fell
+completely flat.</p>
+
+<h3>*</h3>
+
+<p>There must have been something the matter with the infernal fireworks.
+It couldn&#8217;t have been Pickering not knowing how to do them.</p>
+
+<p>That was impossible, simply because Pickering always knew how to do
+everything.</p>
+
+<p>The wretched man who sold them to him must have cheated.</p>
+
+<p>It was a terrible <i>fiasco</i>. Not a single one of the rotten things went
+off. The most awful thing happened that could happen in life. After
+great fear, hope, suspense, excitement and joy, <i>the squibs were damp</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>Nothing went off. Nothing happened. As to the Bengal fire, nothing was
+ever seen of it but some damp paper and a very horrible scent.</p>
+
+<p>Certainly there was no vulgarity about it, no ostentation, except the
+perfume. The fireworks were as private as they could possibly be!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;At any rate,&#8221; said Cissy, trying to console her guest, &#8220;perhaps it&#8217;s
+better than if the house had caught fire and we had all been burnt up!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They weren&#8217;t so very sure. It wouldn&#8217;t have been so flat.</p>
+
+<p>Then Pickering made an attempt to imply that the whole thing was simply
+a practical joke of his.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, if it is,&#8221; said Clifford to himself, &#8220;by Jove, if it is&#8212;it&#8217;s the
+greatest success I&#8217;ve ever seen in my life!&#8221;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span><a name="XXXIII" id="XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII
+<br />
+<br />NIGEL ABROAD</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">NIGEL &#8220;ran across&#8221; Rupert in Paris&#8212;Englishmen who are acquainted with
+each other always do meet in Paris&#8212;and they agreed to dine together.
+Each was pleased to see the other, not so much for each other&#8217;s own
+sake, but for the pleasure of associations. The sight of Rupert reminded
+Nigel of one of the pleasantest evenings in his life&#8212;that evening they
+had spent at the Russian Ballet. Bertha had sat next to him. Bertha had
+been delightful. She had looked lovely and laughed at his jokes, and had
+been all brightness and amiability&#8212;it had been before the first shadow,
+the first thought of <i>&#232; pens&#233;e</i> had risen in her mind to cloud her
+light heart. And he at that time, with what he saw now to be his dense
+stupidity, had believed that she was beginning to like him, that she was
+even on the way to get to care for him in time if he managed with great
+tact and did not annoy Percy nor seem wanting in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> deference for him, and
+above all if he did not give it away about Mary&#8217;s jealousy. He always
+knew that if Bertha once learnt that, it would be fatal to his hopes.
+She was never to know it.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>And now everything had come out, everything had gone wrong in the most
+horrible, hideous way. It had all gone off like young Pickering&#8217;s
+fireworks. When he remembered that dreadful scene at the party it made
+him shudder. How hopelessly stupid he had been to persuade her to come!
+How could he have been so idiotic? Looking at Rupert reminded him of the
+delightful little meetings and talks he had had with Bertha about him
+and Madeline. How charmingly grateful and delighted she had been at his
+offering to help her and smooth away the difficulties by diplomacy. And
+this was how he had done it! Madeline was now engaged to nobody.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha knew all about the jealousy and had been exposed to insults. And
+Percy knew even more about it than she did. Talk of diplomacy! Nigel
+must have been indeed a poor diplomatist, since, without having ever
+done the slightest harm or indeed really said a word of love to Bertha,
+he had yet brought her husband down upon him, forbidding him the house
+and sending him to the devil. That was diplomacy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> wasn&#8217;t it? and as to
+success, she regarded him with indifference bordering on aversion and
+was clearly madly in love with that dull uninteresting Percy. All (Nigel
+admitted), all his own stupidity. Whether or not wickedness is punished
+in another world, there can be no doubt that stupidity and folly is most
+decidedly punished in this.</p>
+
+<p>But then, could he help it that Mary went behind his back and wrote the
+most dreadful letters, that she had this terrible mania for writing
+letters? But if he had been so very clever and diplomatic he would
+somehow or another have prevented it. Oh yes, there was no doubt he was
+a fool, and he had without doubt been made supremely ridiculous. He was
+well aware that he was ridiculous.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Rupert Denison liked Nigel, but he had no idea how intimate he was with
+Nigel. In other words he hadn&#8217;t the faintest idea how well Nigel knew
+him. And this is a case which happens every day owing to the present
+custom of confidential gossip; and is too frequently rather unfairly
+arranged through the intimate friendship of women. For example,
+Madeline, regarding Bertha as the most confidential of sisters, told her
+every little thing, showed her every letter, and had no shadow of a
+secret from her in word<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> or thought. Bertha was almost equally confiding
+except than an older married woman is never quite so frank with a girl
+friend&#8212;there must always be certain reservations. Bertha was an
+intimate friend of Nigel and practically told <i>him</i> every little
+thing&#8212;he was &#8220;the sort of man you could tell everything to,&#8221; he was
+interested, amused, and gave excellent advice. The result was obvious;
+very little about Rupert and his private romance with Madeline was
+unrevealed to Nigel.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel felt inclined to smile when he remembered all he had heard.
+Rupert, on the other hand, was not &#8220;the sort of man you could tell
+everything to&#8221;; he therefore had no confidential women friends and knew
+nothing at all about Nigel. For all he knew, he was just as much as ever
+<i>l&#8217;ami de la maison</i> at Percy&#8217;s house.</p>
+
+<p>At the very end of the dinner, which was a very pleasant one, during
+which Nigel had been sparkling and Rupert a little quiet, Nigel suddenly
+&#8220;felt it in his bones,&#8221; as Bertha used to say&#8212;dear Bertha, she used to
+declare that her bones were so peculiarly and remarkably sensitive to
+anything of interest&#8212;Nigel felt, as I say, Rupert was longing to talk
+about Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>He therefore led the conversation to her, remarked how quiet she had
+been of late, and told him various things about her.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>&#8220;Did she ever mention me?&#8221; asked Rupert, as he looked down at his
+wineglass.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh yes, rather.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What did she say?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She said,&#8221; replied Nigel, &#8220;that she was jolly glad she never saw you
+now and that you were a silly rotter!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I recognise Miss Madeline&#8217;s style,&#8221; replied Rupert with a smile, as he
+rose from the table.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span><a name="XXXIV" id="XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV
+<br />
+<br />MOONA</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">LIKE all cultivated people, particularly those who attach much
+importance to pleasure and amusement, variety, art, and the play, Nigel
+was very fond of Paris; it always pleased him to go there; and yet he
+doubted if he were quite as fond of it in reality as he was in theory.
+The best acting, the best cooking, the best millinery in the world was
+to be found in Paris; and yet Nigel wasn&#8217;t sure that he didn&#8217;t enjoy
+those things more when he got them in London&#8212;that he enjoyed French
+cooking best in an English restaurant, and even a French play at an
+English theatre. Certainly Paris was the centre of art. Nigel was fond
+of pictures, and he amused himself more with a few young French artists
+whom he happened to know living here than with anybody else in the city;
+and yet when he went back to London he sometimes felt that the
+recollection of it, the chatter of studios, the slang of the critics,
+even the whole sense and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> sound of Paris gave him a little the
+recollection as of a huge cage of monkeys. Like most modern Englishmen,
+he talked disparagingly about British hypocrisy, Anglo-Saxon humbug,
+English stiffness and London fog; and yet, after all, he missed and
+valued these very things. Wasn&#8217;t the fog and the hypocrisy&#8212;one was the
+symbol of the other&#8212;weren&#8217;t all these things the very charm of London?
+Fog and hypocrisy&#8212;that is to say, shadow, convention, decency&#8212;these
+were the very things that lent to London its poetry and romance.</p>
+
+<p>Everything in Paris, it was true, was picturesque, everything had colour
+and form, everything made a picture. But it was all too obvious;
+everything was all there ready for one&#8217;s amusement, ready for one&#8217;s
+pleasure. People were too obliging, too willing. And the men! Well,
+Nigel was far more of a <i>viveur</i>, of a lover of pleasure than
+ninety-nine Englishmen out of a hundred, yet he found too much of that
+point of view among the men he came across in Paris. From boys to old
+gentlemen, from the artists to a certain set among the <i>haute
+finance</i>&#8212;of whom he had some acquaintances&#8212;from the sporting young
+sprig of the Faubourg to the son of the sham jeweller in the Rue de
+Rivoli&#8212;all, without a single exception, seemed to think of nothing else
+but pleasure, in other words, of <i>les<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> petites femmes</i>. For that&#8212;paying
+attention more or less serious to <i>les petites femmes</i>&#8212;seemed the one
+real idea of pleasure. Of this point of view Nigel certainly grew very
+tired, and he marvelled at the wonderful energy, the unflagging interest
+in the same eternal subject.</p>
+
+<p>They said, and of course thought, that there was nothing so charming as
+a French woman, particularly the Parisienne; but, except on one point,
+he was not entirely inclined to agree. This point was their dress. Their
+dress was delightful, their fashion was an art, and it had great, real
+charm. In whatever walk of life they were placed they were always
+exquisitely dressed. Nigel appreciated this sartorial gift, it was an
+art he understood and that amused, but weren&#8217;t they on the whole&#8212;also
+in every walk of life&#8212;a little too much arranged, overdone, too much
+<i>maquill&#233;es</i>; weren&#8217;t their faces too white, their lips too red, their
+hats too new? They knew how to put on their clothes to perfection, but
+he was not sure that he didn&#8217;t prefer these beautiful clothes not quite
+so well put on; he thought he liked to see the pretty French dress put
+on a little wrong on a pretty Englishwoman; and then he thought of
+Bertha, of course. Nowhere in Paris was there anything quite like
+Bertha, that pink and white English complexion, that abundant fair hair,
+the natural flower-like look.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>Of course Bertha was unusually clever, lively and charming; she was not
+stiff or prim, she was very exceptional, but distinctly English, and he
+admired her more than all the Parisiennes in the world. Besides, he
+thought, one got very tired of them. When they <i>were bourgeoises</i> they
+were so extremely <i>bourgeoises</i>; when they were smart they were so
+excessively <i>snob</i>. Perhaps it was through having seen a good deal of
+them for a little while that he met a compatriot of his with unexpected
+gratification.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>He was walking with one of his artist friends on the boulevard when, to
+his great surprise, the artist was stopped by a young lady walking alone
+who evidently knew him. She was dressed in a very tight blue serge coat
+and skirt, she had black bandeaux of hair over her ears, from which
+depended imitation coral ear-rings. She had shoes with white spats, and
+a very small hat squashed over her eyes. She did not look in the least
+French. He knew her at once. It was the girl whose artistic education
+Rupert had at one time undertaken. It was Moona Chivvey.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah! Miss Chivvey! What a pleasure! And what are you doing here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She replied that she and her friend, Mimsie Sutton, had taken a little
+studio and were studying art together with a number of other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> English
+and American girls with a great artist.</p>
+
+<p>Nigel&#8217;s friend left his arm and went away. Nigel strolled on with Miss
+Chivvey.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And are you here quite alone with no chaperon,&#8221; asked Nigel, with that
+momentary sort of brotherly feeling of being shocked that an Englishman
+nearly always feels when he sees a compatriot behaving unconventionally
+in a foreign land.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Chaperon! Oh! come off the roof,&#8221; replied the young lady in her
+boisterous manner, which he saw had not at all toned down. &#8220;Of course
+I&#8217;m being chaperoned by Miss Sutton. I&#8217;m staying with Mimsie. Mother
+couldn&#8217;t come, and didn&#8217;t want me to come, but there&#8217;s no hope of
+learning art in London; it&#8217;s simply <i>hopeless</i>. You see we&#8217;re serious,
+Mr. Hillier, we&#8217;re studying really hard. We&#8217;re going to do big things.
+Mimsie&#8217;s a genius. I&#8217;m not; but I&#8217;m industrious. I&#8217;m a tremendous
+worker. Oh, I shall do something yet!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was full of fire and enthusiasm, and continued to give him an
+immense quantity of information. He listened with interest and thought
+it rather touching. Of course she was genuine and believed in herself;
+equally, of course, she had no sort of talent. She was in a position in
+which no girl in her own class could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> be placed who was not English,
+except an American, and then it wouldn&#8217;t be the same thing. No doubt she
+knew thoroughly well how to take care of herself, and most likely there
+was no need, even, that she should. Still, he thought it was rather
+pathetic that she should leave her parents and a thoroughly comfortable
+home in Camden Hill, in order to live in a wretchedly uncomfortable
+studio&#8212;he was sure it was wretchedly uncomfortable&#8212;and have a dull
+life with other depressing girls&#8212;all for the cultivation of a gift that
+was purely imaginary.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must come and dine with me to-night, won&#8217;t you, Miss Chivvey?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was rather pretty, rather amusing, and she was English. He liked
+talking English again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I should like to very much, Mr. Hillier. Is your wife here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; she&#8217;s going to Felixtowe in a week or two with the children, and
+I&#8217;m going to join her there. I&#8217;m quite alone, so you must take pity on
+me. Must we have your friend Miss Sutton too?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no&#8212;I don&#8217;t think it&#8217;s necessary; it will be a change to go out
+without her. You see, here I am a worker and a Bohemian,&#8221; she explained.
+&#8220;I don&#8217;t go in for chaperons. I&#8217;m not social here!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>&#8220;Besides, I&#8217;m English. You&#8217;re all right with me,&#8221; he returned in his
+most charming way. &#8220;Have you many English friends here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He wanted to find out whether she was seeing Rupert; he soon discovered
+she was not, and he determined not to tell her of the presence of that
+young man. They might make it up, and Nigel thought it would be far
+better for Rupert to come back to Madeline. He was sure she was his real
+taste. And he still wanted to please Bertha.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>They dined in a small but particularly excellent restaurant. She seemed
+to enjoy herself immensely, and grew every moment more confidential.
+Nigel tried not to flirt. He had no intention of doing so, and, had they
+met in London, would not have dreamt of such a thing; but meeting an
+English girl placed as she was gave a tinge of adventure and romance to
+his taking her out.</p>
+
+<p>She told him she had no flirtations and cared for no man in the world.
+He then led the conversation gradually to Rupert Denison. It did not
+take long for her to work herself up to give him a somewhat highly
+coloured version of their quarrel, which amused him. It ended with &#8220;and
+so I never saw him again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>&#8220;I can&#8217;t see that you have any real grievance, I must say. He seems to
+have been very nice to you, taken you out a great deal, and gone to see
+you pretty often. Did he not make love to you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never, never, never,&#8221; she replied. &#8220;He was just like a brother, or,
+rather, a sort of schoolmaster.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then I believe that&#8217;s what made you angry,&#8221; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed it isn&#8217;t. At any rate, if it was a little, I assure you I&#8217;m not
+in love with him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He laughed, teased her about it, and now he found that she wished to go
+home. Feeling he ought not to take advantage of her position here, he
+was exceedingly respectful, and drove her to her flat, not before she
+had consented to dine and go to the theatre with him the next day.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That sort of girl is rather difficult to understand,&#8221; he thought, as he
+drove away from the studio. &#8220;Perhaps now she&#8217;s thinking me a fool as she
+thought Rupert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>However, he remembered <i>he</i> was married. He looked forward to the next
+evening with interest. At least Miss Chivvey was different from other
+people. One wasn&#8217;t quite sure of her, and that fact had its attraction.
+She was really very good-looking too, very young, had beautiful eyes and
+teeth, and the high spirits of youth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> and health and enthusiasm. Pity
+she thought she could draw. How much better if she had gone in for
+first-rate plain cooking! He was sure she could learn that&#8212;if it was
+really plain.</p>
+
+<p>Next day he sent her a few flowers. After all, an Englishman must be
+gallant to his country-woman; but the next evening he thought she met
+him with a slightly cooler air and even with a little embarrassment.
+This melted away before the end of the evening.</p>
+
+<p>He then took her to the theatre in a little box. He was careful to
+choose a piece that he would have taken his own sister to see, but he
+forgot that he would not have let his own sister go to see it with a
+married man and no chaperon.</p>
+
+<p>His manner was becoming a shade more tender than was necessary, and he
+was sitting perhaps a shade nearer to her than was absolutely required,
+when, looking up, he saw two young men in the stalls, one of whom was
+looking at him and his companion with very great interest through an
+opera-glass. It was Rupert.</p>
+
+<p>Moona had not seen him, and Nigel now became aware of a distinct anxiety
+that she should not. He was rather sorry he had come: it might give
+Rupert a mistaken impression. It was not right to compromise her. He
+would explain, of course, the next day. But it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> annoying to have to
+explain, and he would have explained anyhow. Nigel greatly disliked
+getting the credit, or, rather, the discredit, of something he did not
+deserve.</p>
+
+<p>He pretended to be bored with the play, and persuaded her to come and
+have an ice at a quiet and respectable place before she saw Rupert. She
+went in high spirits and great innocence.</p>
+
+<p>When they left Nigel said: &#8220;Do you know that I oughtn&#8217;t to have taken
+you there to-night? It was wrong of me. If anyone had seen us there they
+would probably have mistaken our relations.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She gave her boisterous laugh and said: &#8220;I see. Well, you would have had
+all the credit and none of the trouble.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You mean,&#8221; he replied, &#8220;that I should have had all the infamy and none
+of the satisfaction.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>As they drove to the studio he took her hand and said: &#8220;One kiss.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not,&#8221; she replied, taking it away. &#8220;Certainly not. Do you
+want me to be sorry I came out with you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should like you to be glad,&#8221; he replied. &#8220;Never mind, Miss Chivvey,
+forgive me. I won&#8217;t ask you out again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why not? Haven&#8217;t I been nice?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>&#8220;Very nice. Too nice, too charming, too dangerous.&#8221; He kissed her hand
+respectfully. &#8220;Good-bye. I&#8217;m angry with myself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never mind, I&#8217;ll forgive you,&#8221; she laughed flippantly.</p>
+
+<p>He drove away. Yes, one loses one&#8217;s bearings travelling about alone,
+taking <i>jeunes filles</i> to the theatre who live alone in Paris, say
+anything, have no chaperons, and are prudes all the time.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Confound it. I&#8217;ve made a fool of myself. But I must go and see Rupert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He lunched with that young man that day and told him word for word what
+had passed, even to the incident in the cab.</p>
+
+<p>He need not have been so expansive nor have humbled himself so much.</p>
+
+<p>Rupert had not for a moment misconstrued their presence at the theatre.</p>
+
+<p>Also he was not in the least surprised about the incident in the cab.</p>
+
+<p>Rupert was on the whole irritating. Nigel was glad to leave him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span><a name="XXXV" id="XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV
+<br />
+<br />TWO WOMEN</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">BERTHA was very much surprised at Mary&#8217;s wishing to see her. She thought
+it most extraordinary and was much inclined to refuse, remembering the
+strangely insulting way Mary had behaved at her party. Nigel had
+apologised indeed; had implored for forgiveness; and she had written to
+say it was forgotten. But it is not an easy thing to forget.</p>
+
+<p>Percy had given a mild version of his interview with Nigel. He had also
+told her now about the destroyed letters. Bertha was certainly vexed
+that she had not been told before. It would have, at least, prevented
+her going to the party. However, she was soon tired of the subject and
+agreed with Percy not to mention it again. Bertha was, as she said
+herself, nothing of a harpist. She could not go on playing on one
+string. She made up her mind to forget it. She had begun to do so when
+Mary&#8217;s telephone message reached her.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>Bertha was sitting by the fire when Mary was shown in. She looked at her
+most serene, her calmest and prettiest. It was not in her nature to bear
+malice nor even to be angry for more than a few hours about anything. By
+the end of that time she was always inclined to see the humorous side of
+anything, and to see that it was of less importance than appeared. She
+had already laughed several times to herself at the mere thought of the
+absurdity of a hostess asking one to her house and then behaving as Mary
+had done. Also she saw a comic&#8212;though pathetic&#8212;side to the typewritten
+letters. But it was painful, too, and she would very much rather have
+avoided this visit from Mrs. Hillier. It must be embarrassing for her,
+at least, and could hardly be other than disagreeable.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Mary came in looking very pale and rather untidy. In the excitement of
+her mind and her general perturbation she had come out with two
+left-handed gloves, and during the whole of her visit endeavoured to
+force a left hand into a right-hand glove. It was maddening to watch
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Just as she started to go to see Bertha, poor Mary had gone to her
+toilet-table and put what she supposed to be powder lavishly on her nose
+without again looking in the glass. It was red<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> rouge&#8212;the reddest and
+brightest. Although she afterwards rubbed a little of it off, she never
+saw herself in the glass again before starting. The result of this was
+to give her that touch of the grotesque that is so fatal to any scene of
+a serious nature but that in this case appealed to Bertha&#8217;s kindness and
+sympathy rather than her sense of humour.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How are you, Mrs. Hillier? I have really hardly met you to speak to
+until to-day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-morning, Mrs. Kellynch. &#8230; It was kind of you to let me come.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mary sat down awkwardly and began to put her left hand into the
+right-hand glove. She sat near the light, and Bertha saw that she had
+been covering her face with what she supposed to be powder, but what was
+nothing else than carmine.</p>
+
+<p>Should she tell her?</p>
+
+<p>Could she let her remain in ignorance of this until afterwards? She
+would find it out when she went home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I want to speak to you very much, Mrs. Kellynch. &#8230; It is very
+awkward, but I feel I must.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have some tea first,&#8221; said Bertha, and while she poured it out and
+passed it to Mrs. Hillier she felt she could no longer leave her in
+ignorance of her appearance.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span>She pointed to the silver looking-glass that stood on a small table, and
+said: &#8220;Mrs. Hillier, just look at that. I fancy you&#8217;ve put something on
+your face by mistake. Do forgive me!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mary gave a shriek.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good heavens, how horrible! I must have put rouge on instead of powder!
+I look like a comic actor!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Both of them laughed, and this rather cleared the air.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was very good of you to tell me,&#8221; said Mary. &#8220;Thank you. It&#8217;s so
+like me! When I&#8217;m agitated I become too appallingly absent-minded for
+words. That&#8217;s the sort of thing I do. How you must sneer&#8212;I mean, laugh
+at me, Mrs. Kellynch!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed not! What an idea. It could happen to anyone.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I came to see you for two reasons. One is this: Mrs. Kellynch, I
+want to beg your pardon. I&#8217;m very, very sorry.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For what, Mrs. Hillier?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For many things. I was horribly rude&#8212;I behaved shamefully at my party
+the other day. I must have been mad. I was so miserable.&#8221; She said this
+in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha held out her hand. The poor girl&#8212;she was not much more&#8212;looked
+so miserable, and had just looked so absurd! It must have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> such a
+humiliation to know that one had called on one&#8217;s rival got up like a
+comedian&#8212;a singer of comic songs at the Pavilion.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Hillier, don&#8217;t say any more. I quite forgive you, and will not
+think of it again. Don&#8217;t let us talk of it any more. Have some more
+tea?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, thank you, Mrs. Kellynch. This isn&#8217;t all. I have something else to
+tell you, and then I want, if I may, to consult you. I did a dreadful,
+dreadful thing! I don&#8217;t know how I could! Oh, when I see you&#8212;when I
+look at you and see how sweet and kind you are&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha, terrified that Mary would begin to cry and get hysterical, tried
+to stop her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, Mrs. Hillier. Don&#8217;t tell me any more. It might&#8212;I guess what you
+are going to say&#8212;I know it might have caused great trouble. But it
+didn&#8217;t. So never mind. You were upset&#8212;didn&#8217;t think.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh no, Mrs. Kellynch; you must let me confess it. I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t be at peace
+till I do. I want to tell&#8212;my husband&#8212;that I confessed and apologised.
+I actually wrote&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Really, all this is unnecessary. You are giving us both unnecessary
+pain,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;I know it&#8212;I guess it. Won&#8217;t you leave it at that?
+All traces of&#8212;the trouble were destroyed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> and, if you want to be kind
+to me now, you&#8217;ll not speak of it any more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mary had begun to cry, but she controlled herself, seeing it would
+please Bertha best.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well, I&#8217;ll say no more. Only do, <i>do</i> try to forgive me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do with all my heart.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then you&#8217;re angelic. Thank you.&#8221; After a moment&#8217;s pause, Mary put away
+her handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have a cigarette,&#8221; suggested Bertha, who hardly knew what to do to
+compose her agitated visitor.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, no, thank you. Mrs. Kellynch, may I really ask you a great, <i>great</i>
+favour?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Please do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I consult you? I&#8217;m <i>so</i> miserable&#8212;I&#8217;m wretched. Nigel has gone
+away and left me!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Gone away.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But he&#8217;ll come back? Surely, he means to come back?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I <i>hope</i> so. But he never left me before. Never since we have been
+married! And I am miserable. What shall I do&#8212;what can I do to make him
+fond of me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>This pathetic question brought tears to Bertha&#8217;s eyes. She was truly
+sorry for the poor little creature.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is he angry with you then?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s not exactly angry, now. He has been very kind. He has behaved
+beautifully. But he said he must go away for a time, and when he came
+back he would not refer to&#8212;to the subject of our quarrel again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, that&#8217;s all right then. There is no cause for being unhappy. It&#8217;s
+nothing his going away for a week or two.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He says six weeks. Six long, dreadful weeks!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Even <i>six</i> weeks&#8212;it&#8217;s nothing. After, you&#8217;ll both be much happier, I&#8217;m
+sure,&#8221; said Bertha consolingly. &#8220;Sometimes there is a sort of strain and
+a change is needed. It will be all right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, Mrs. Kellynch, you don&#8217;t know&#8212;you don&#8217;t understand. I have always
+been so terribly, madly jealous. I have worried him into it. You see&#8212;I
+can&#8217;t help it, I love him so much! I do love him. You can&#8217;t imagine what
+it is!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed I can!&#8221; cried Bertha. &#8220;I care <i>quite</i> as much for Percy. You
+can&#8217;t think how much.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Really and truly? But that&#8217;s so different, because <i>he</i> cares quite as
+much for you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed, I hope so,&#8221; said Bertha seriously.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>&#8220;Yes. But Nigel doesn&#8217;t&#8212;he&#8217;s kind, but I don&#8217;t think he cares much
+about me. What shall I do?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha paused, deeply sorry. Then she said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense! Of course he does, but you&#8212;if you&#8217;ll excuse my saying
+so&#8212;you seem to worry him, to bother him with imaginary grievances, with
+unjust suspicious. What man will bear that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then will you tell me what to do?&#8221; she asked, like a child.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;First, don&#8217;t beg him to come back. Write kindly, unselfishly,
+cheerfully.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Cheerfully! Oh, I can&#8217;t.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; you must if you want it to be all right. What man wants to be
+deluged with tears and complaints? Dear Mrs. Hillier, I&#8217;m speaking as a
+genuine friend. I&#8217;m speaking frankly. I&#8217;m advising you as I would my own
+sister. Write to him cheerily, and take an interest in his doings, but
+not <i>too</i> great. Show less curiosity. Above all, no jealousy, no
+suspicions. It&#8217;s the worst thing in the world.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it? Go on, dear Mrs. Kellynch. Tell me more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Talk of the children&#8212;show interest in them&#8212;make him proud of them.
+There you have an advantage no other woman has. You&#8217;re the mother of his
+children.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>&#8220;Does he care for that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course he does&#8212;and he will more, if you do. Show an interest and a
+pride in it, and you will be what no one else can be to him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mary thought, and seemed to see it. &#8220;Go on, go on!&#8221; she said, putting
+out her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear Mrs. Hillier, I have envied you so for that! All these years, I&#8217;ve
+never had that great happiness. At last&#8221;&#8212;she paused&#8212;&#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you, if
+you care to know&#8212;at last, after ten years, I am going to have my wish.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Really! And you are pleased?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m divinely happy, delighted!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;m very glad for you, Mrs. Kellynch. But can&#8217;t you
+imagine&#8212;you&#8217;re so pretty and charming and good-tempered and clever. I&#8217;m
+none of all these things. I&#8217;m not pretty, and I&#8217;m very bad-tempered and
+terribly jealous by nature and not clever.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are his wife and he chose you. And he is a charming, pleasant man.
+You ought to be very happy together.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;To tell the truth&#8212;I don&#8217;t mind what I tell you&#8212;I feel you&#8217;re kind and
+good and sincere&#8212;I have always had a horrible feeling that he married
+me&#8212;because&#8212;because he was hard up. And I had money! And yet&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mrs. Hillier, don&#8217;t talk nonsense! It&#8217;s dreadful of you to say so.
+You ought to be very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> glad to be able to have everything you want,
+without having to consider for your children. It&#8217;s a great thing, I
+assure you, to have no money troubles. It&#8217;s another very big reason for
+you and Nigel to be happy. You don&#8217;t know what it is. It&#8217;s agony! I do,
+because before I was married I was one of a very large family, and my
+father was a very popular preacher and all that, but it was a terrible
+struggle. To send the boys to public schools and Oxford, the girls had
+to be really dreadfully pinched! And always worries about bills! I was
+brought up in that atmosphere, and I know that to be entirely free from
+it is a most enormous relief and comfort. You will probably never know
+how fortunate you are.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are right. Of course Nigel is not the man to endure money troubles
+well.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Exactly. Well, now, can&#8217;t you see that you&#8217;ve every possible chance of
+happiness together?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I call you Bertha?&#8221; answered Mary. &#8220;You&#8217;ve been a real angel to me,
+I might have expected you to refuse to see me, or at least to be cold
+and unkind&#8212;and instead you&#8217;re as sorry as you can be for me and want to
+see me happy! You are sweet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course I&#8217;d like to see you happy,&#8221; said Bertha. &#8220;You understand now
+that I also care<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> for my husband? You&#8217;re not the only one in the world,
+though I admit we&#8217;re rather exceptions nowadays!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; and I thought because you were so pretty and sweet that you <i>must</i>
+be a flirt&#8212;at the very least.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t say I&#8217;m not, all the same. But I would never wish to interfere
+with other people&#8217;s happiness.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I sometimes think it might be better if I were a little of a flirt,&#8221;
+sighed Mary. &#8220;But I can&#8217;t&#8212;it&#8217;s not my nature&#8212;or, rather, I&#8217;m too busy
+always looking after Nigel!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, don&#8217;t do that so much and he&#8217;ll look after you all the more. Show
+interest in your appearance and society&#8212;let him be proud of you&#8212;and
+<i>don&#8217;t</i> be afraid of being fond of the children!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m really tremendously fond of them,&#8221; said Mary. &#8220;Only I was always so
+afraid he would think they would do instead of him! I have such a horror
+of his sending me off with them and thinking they will fill up all my
+life, while he was living like a gay bachelor! And when he was very
+sweet to them I really was jealous of them!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But all this is absurd. If you show your affection for them he will
+love you far more, and when <i>he</i> is devoted to them it shows he&#8217;s<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>
+devoted to you. Don&#8217;t be foolish, Mrs. Hillier, you have had a sort of
+crisis. Do let it end there. Let things be different. He will be
+delighted to see you cheerful and jolly again. It&#8217;s all in your own
+hands, really.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you. It was a shame to bother you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She got up to go.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I tell you, later on &#8230; how things are? I shall follow your advice
+<i>exactly</i>!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mary was looking at her now in a kind of worshipping gratitude and
+trust.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, do. But I know it will be all right. Only be a little patient just
+now. &#8230; He will miss you awfully, I know,&#8221; said Bertha, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Will he <i>really</i>? How <i>sweet</i> of you to say that! Good-bye, Bertha.
+Dear Bertha, you have been kind. I&#8217;m <i>so</i> sorry.&#8221; Tears came to her eyes
+again, but as she passed the little mirror she began to laugh. &#8220;To think
+I should have come to see you for the first time got up like a dame in a
+pantomime. How grotesque!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They both laughed. Laughter altered and improved Mary wonderfully. It
+was a faculty she never exercised. She was always much too serious.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you know, I haven&#8217;t one woman friend,&#8221; said Mary.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, you have, <i>now</i>.&#8221; Bertha pressed her hand.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>&#8220;Good-bye! &#8230; Oh, Bertha, do you <i>really</i> think he&#8217;ll miss me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course he will! Awfully!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thanks. Good-bye!&#8221;</p>
+
+<h3>*</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor girl!&#8221; Bertha said to herself as Mary left the house.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span><a name="XXXVI" id="XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI
+<br />
+<br />PLAIN SAILING</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">WHETHER or not it was through meeting Nigel, at any rate, Rupert became
+exceedingly anxious to see Madeline again. It would have happened
+anyhow, but perhaps a little more slowly, since Nigel&#8217;s rapid views may
+have had some influence on that more deliberate young man.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>However that may be, in the early autumn Madeline, almost overcome with
+joy, was married to her adored and cultured instructor. She always
+remained his painstaking pupil; and he seemed highly gratified with her
+general progress; while she continued to be equally pleased with his
+mode of instruction and anxious not to neglect her education in any way.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>When Nigel joined his wife he found her decidedly improved. Perhaps he
+really had missed the fact that he was of far more importance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> to her
+than to anyone else in the world. She never conquered her jealousy; but
+she learnt to conceal it, and thus to keep the peace; the children
+became gradually a source of mutual interest that was a real tie between
+them; in fact it grew in time into a positive hobby and a cause of so
+much pride and satisfaction as to be rather a bore to many of their
+friends.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>I find I am finishing my story in a manner no less strange than
+unconventional nowadays: I am leaving no less than three almost
+perfectly happy couples! If this is a strain on the imagination of the
+reader, let it be remembered that they had all had their troubles and
+storms before they reached this point of smooth water.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Nigel, of course, deserved his peace and comfort the least. Percy,
+however, with his squash rackets and afternoon concerts (which, however,
+he grew to neglect in order to be more with Bertha), was the least
+interesting of all my heroes. Yet Bertha remained, I must admit, of all
+my heroines, by far the most in love.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIRD OF PARADISE***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 27323-h.txt or 27323-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/7/3/2/27323">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/3/2/27323</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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.</p>
+
+
+
+<pre>
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
+eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
+compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
+the old filename and etext number.  The replaced older file is renamed.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
+new filenames and etext numbers.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a>
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000,
+are filed in directories based on their release date.  If you want to
+download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular
+search system you may utilize the following addresses and just
+download by the etext year.
+
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a>
+
+    (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99,
+     98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90)
+
+EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are
+filed in a different way.  The year of a release date is no longer part
+of the directory path.  The path is based on the etext number (which is
+identical to the filename).  The path to the file is made up of single
+digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename.  For
+example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234
+
+or filename 24689 would be found at:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689
+
+An alternative method of locating eBooks:
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a>
+
+*** END: FULL LICENSE ***
+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/27323-h/images/quote.png b/27323-h/images/quote.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0f0a7ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-h/images/quote.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/f0001.png b/27323-page-images/f0001.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47b453f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/f0001.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/f0003.png b/27323-page-images/f0003.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf8da3a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/f0003.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/f0004.png b/27323-page-images/f0004.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b53e8d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/f0004.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/f0005.png b/27323-page-images/f0005.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b5364c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/f0005.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/f0007.png b/27323-page-images/f0007.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c14e296
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/f0007.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/f0008.png b/27323-page-images/f0008.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e05ea1f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/f0008.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0009.png b/27323-page-images/p0009.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e753bdd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0009.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0010.png b/27323-page-images/p0010.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bfecafb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0010.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0011.png b/27323-page-images/p0011.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b8aba7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0011.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0012.png b/27323-page-images/p0012.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6903a54
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0012.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0013.png b/27323-page-images/p0013.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..37cda1d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0013.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0014.png b/27323-page-images/p0014.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1c9325f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0014.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0015.png b/27323-page-images/p0015.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bd5615a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0015.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0016.png b/27323-page-images/p0016.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7df43ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0016.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0017.png b/27323-page-images/p0017.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..81fca4b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0017.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0018.png b/27323-page-images/p0018.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ed6650e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0018.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0019.png b/27323-page-images/p0019.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d45c097
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0019.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0020.png b/27323-page-images/p0020.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0dea4b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0020.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0021.png b/27323-page-images/p0021.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..80a47ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0021.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0022.png b/27323-page-images/p0022.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..98c106b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0022.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0023.png b/27323-page-images/p0023.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0e7f75
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0023.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0024.png b/27323-page-images/p0024.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d9d31a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0024.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0025.png b/27323-page-images/p0025.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db9af0e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0025.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0026.png b/27323-page-images/p0026.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..11b7b5f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0026.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0027.png b/27323-page-images/p0027.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cdfd77b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0027.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0028.png b/27323-page-images/p0028.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0ddc17
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0028.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0029.png b/27323-page-images/p0029.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3ffe292
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0029.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0030.png b/27323-page-images/p0030.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d6c349a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0030.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0031.png b/27323-page-images/p0031.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b137afe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0031.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0032.png b/27323-page-images/p0032.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0458f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0032.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0033.png b/27323-page-images/p0033.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75af300
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0033.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0034.png b/27323-page-images/p0034.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..de381a8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0034.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0035.png b/27323-page-images/p0035.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dcc5190
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0035.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0036.png b/27323-page-images/p0036.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..58372f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0036.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0037.png b/27323-page-images/p0037.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..34b1d77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0037.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0038.png b/27323-page-images/p0038.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..118dadd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0038.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0039.png b/27323-page-images/p0039.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e551ee1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0039.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0040.png b/27323-page-images/p0040.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0e43158
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0040.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0041.png b/27323-page-images/p0041.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63b9e43
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0041.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0042.png b/27323-page-images/p0042.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32e471e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0042.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0043.png b/27323-page-images/p0043.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d59d799
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0043.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0044.png b/27323-page-images/p0044.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4165eeb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0044.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0045.png b/27323-page-images/p0045.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41aae0e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0045.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0046.png b/27323-page-images/p0046.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4a504ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0046.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0047.png b/27323-page-images/p0047.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ed272f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0047.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0048.png b/27323-page-images/p0048.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..34fe81c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0048.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0049.png b/27323-page-images/p0049.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d8e2828
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0049.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0050.png b/27323-page-images/p0050.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e070c25
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0050.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0051.png b/27323-page-images/p0051.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..17da691
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0051.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0052.png b/27323-page-images/p0052.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1720f8b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0052.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0053.png b/27323-page-images/p0053.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf2794b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0053.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0054.png b/27323-page-images/p0054.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e9320c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0054.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0055.png b/27323-page-images/p0055.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5b04b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0055.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0056.png b/27323-page-images/p0056.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..37f35e9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0056.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0057.png b/27323-page-images/p0057.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6570e41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0057.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0058.png b/27323-page-images/p0058.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61666e9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0058.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0059.png b/27323-page-images/p0059.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..617104f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0059.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0060.png b/27323-page-images/p0060.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9dce83b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0060.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0061.png b/27323-page-images/p0061.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47bff76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0061.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0062.png b/27323-page-images/p0062.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c33a721
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0062.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0063.png b/27323-page-images/p0063.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48b99cf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0063.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0064.png b/27323-page-images/p0064.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0344490
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0064.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0065.png b/27323-page-images/p0065.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c1a11ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0065.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0066.png b/27323-page-images/p0066.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..66d570f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0066.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0067.png b/27323-page-images/p0067.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e56205a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0067.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0068.png b/27323-page-images/p0068.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..51c45fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0068.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0069.png b/27323-page-images/p0069.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b0bbc8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0069.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0070.png b/27323-page-images/p0070.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d6784f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0070.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0071.png b/27323-page-images/p0071.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18b0018
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0071.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0072.png b/27323-page-images/p0072.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf376c7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0072.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0073.png b/27323-page-images/p0073.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1356f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0073.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0074.png b/27323-page-images/p0074.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b9e548
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0074.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0075.png b/27323-page-images/p0075.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c94ad32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0075.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0076.png b/27323-page-images/p0076.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60c3e19
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0076.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0077.png b/27323-page-images/p0077.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f290bea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0077.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0078.png b/27323-page-images/p0078.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61d2da8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0078.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0079.png b/27323-page-images/p0079.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a29a9a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0079.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0080.png b/27323-page-images/p0080.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c82b690
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0080.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0081.png b/27323-page-images/p0081.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f334791
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0081.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0082.png b/27323-page-images/p0082.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4196f7e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0082.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0083.png b/27323-page-images/p0083.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..27545ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0083.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0084.png b/27323-page-images/p0084.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ddd8cd8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0084.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0085.png b/27323-page-images/p0085.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c63aa76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0085.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0086.png b/27323-page-images/p0086.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..85f5c22
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0086.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0087.png b/27323-page-images/p0087.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..84cb20a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0087.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0088.png b/27323-page-images/p0088.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c3c1f65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0088.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0089.png b/27323-page-images/p0089.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b46819
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0089.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0090.png b/27323-page-images/p0090.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e4ab8e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0090.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0091.png b/27323-page-images/p0091.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f31bff9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0091.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0092.png b/27323-page-images/p0092.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7087230
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0092.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0093.png b/27323-page-images/p0093.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d9f397a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0093.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0094.png b/27323-page-images/p0094.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9609ede
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0094.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0095.png b/27323-page-images/p0095.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d2f85d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0095.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0096.png b/27323-page-images/p0096.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dde6c73
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0096.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0097.png b/27323-page-images/p0097.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..da16f75
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0097.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0098.png b/27323-page-images/p0098.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e4c884a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0098.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0099.png b/27323-page-images/p0099.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..763cffb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0099.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0100.png b/27323-page-images/p0100.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d84c4fc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0100.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0101.png b/27323-page-images/p0101.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9e7bb1d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0101.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0102.png b/27323-page-images/p0102.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9862fba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0102.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0103.png b/27323-page-images/p0103.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a51f511
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0103.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0104.png b/27323-page-images/p0104.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b54406
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0104.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0105.png b/27323-page-images/p0105.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e3f8bda
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0105.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0106.png b/27323-page-images/p0106.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22c90e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0106.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0107.png b/27323-page-images/p0107.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f2c2d80
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0107.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0108.png b/27323-page-images/p0108.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8cc49ad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0108.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0109.png b/27323-page-images/p0109.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..44d3d42
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0109.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0110.png b/27323-page-images/p0110.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aa1481f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0110.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0111.png b/27323-page-images/p0111.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f3d677a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0111.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0112.png b/27323-page-images/p0112.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..58f45ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0112.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0113.png b/27323-page-images/p0113.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2ee2722
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0113.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0114.png b/27323-page-images/p0114.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb05ea0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0114.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0115.png b/27323-page-images/p0115.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cedfa2a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0115.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0116.png b/27323-page-images/p0116.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..44f1b9c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0116.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0117.png b/27323-page-images/p0117.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5992320
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0117.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0118.png b/27323-page-images/p0118.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..13fa596
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0118.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0119.png b/27323-page-images/p0119.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..88e4660
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0119.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0120.png b/27323-page-images/p0120.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c450993
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0120.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0121.png b/27323-page-images/p0121.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49d017c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0121.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0122.png b/27323-page-images/p0122.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4f48f94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0122.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0123.png b/27323-page-images/p0123.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ef5d2d1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0123.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0124.png b/27323-page-images/p0124.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d6e3c7d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0124.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0125.png b/27323-page-images/p0125.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3494f65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0125.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0126.png b/27323-page-images/p0126.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5d68067
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0126.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0127.png b/27323-page-images/p0127.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd80303
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0127.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0128.png b/27323-page-images/p0128.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..197f8c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0128.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0129.png b/27323-page-images/p0129.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75ca8ad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0129.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0130.png b/27323-page-images/p0130.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..93e4164
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0130.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0131.png b/27323-page-images/p0131.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a0a75b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0131.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0132.png b/27323-page-images/p0132.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f36d4ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0132.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0133.png b/27323-page-images/p0133.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a8aa375
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0133.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0134.png b/27323-page-images/p0134.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c945a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0134.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0135.png b/27323-page-images/p0135.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..afcf29d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0135.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0136.png b/27323-page-images/p0136.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0d10980
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0136.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0137.png b/27323-page-images/p0137.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1394206
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0137.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0138.png b/27323-page-images/p0138.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3c714f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0138.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0139.png b/27323-page-images/p0139.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..72f11b7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0139.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0140.png b/27323-page-images/p0140.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d763783
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0140.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0141.png b/27323-page-images/p0141.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a028219
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0141.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0142.png b/27323-page-images/p0142.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..efda2d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0142.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0143.png b/27323-page-images/p0143.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aeb290b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0143.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0144.png b/27323-page-images/p0144.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f10a065
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0144.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0145.png b/27323-page-images/p0145.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d944e0f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0145.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0146.png b/27323-page-images/p0146.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f1f3c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0146.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0147.png b/27323-page-images/p0147.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3af8746
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0147.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0148.png b/27323-page-images/p0148.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b171e80
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0148.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0149.png b/27323-page-images/p0149.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b60c44
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0149.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0150.png b/27323-page-images/p0150.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d1f70fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0150.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0151.png b/27323-page-images/p0151.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f4d1ea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0151.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0152.png b/27323-page-images/p0152.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4bba86
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0152.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0153.png b/27323-page-images/p0153.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18219e9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0153.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0154.png b/27323-page-images/p0154.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..89bab74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0154.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0155.png b/27323-page-images/p0155.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16feb38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0155.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0156.png b/27323-page-images/p0156.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e65d3c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0156.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0157.png b/27323-page-images/p0157.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e95167b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0157.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0158.png b/27323-page-images/p0158.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e2b2b65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0158.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0159.png b/27323-page-images/p0159.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c396342
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0159.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0160.png b/27323-page-images/p0160.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be19db5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0160.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0161.png b/27323-page-images/p0161.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b7dd36
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0161.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0162.png b/27323-page-images/p0162.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18b1a29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0162.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0163.png b/27323-page-images/p0163.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4994dc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0163.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0164.png b/27323-page-images/p0164.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2734f4d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0164.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0165.png b/27323-page-images/p0165.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..79009ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0165.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0166.png b/27323-page-images/p0166.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d046e95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0166.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0167.png b/27323-page-images/p0167.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b12868
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0167.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0168.png b/27323-page-images/p0168.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18b9576
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0168.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0169.png b/27323-page-images/p0169.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18fb9a4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0169.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0170.png b/27323-page-images/p0170.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1fbad95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0170.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0171.png b/27323-page-images/p0171.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f24662
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0171.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0172.png b/27323-page-images/p0172.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eb20f67
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0172.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0173.png b/27323-page-images/p0173.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..132e016
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0173.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0174.png b/27323-page-images/p0174.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f8e580b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0174.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0175.png b/27323-page-images/p0175.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..741c2f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0175.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0176.png b/27323-page-images/p0176.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7631f45
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0176.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0177.png b/27323-page-images/p0177.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b7554dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0177.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0178.png b/27323-page-images/p0178.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..708a751
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0178.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0179.png b/27323-page-images/p0179.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cbe2cfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0179.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0180.png b/27323-page-images/p0180.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2e6227
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0180.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0181.png b/27323-page-images/p0181.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1a5f0e8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0181.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0182.png b/27323-page-images/p0182.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dbfff96
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0182.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0183.png b/27323-page-images/p0183.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f900917
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0183.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0184.png b/27323-page-images/p0184.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5fc3ceb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0184.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0185.png b/27323-page-images/p0185.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9a334b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0185.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0186.png b/27323-page-images/p0186.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff35a5e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0186.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0187.png b/27323-page-images/p0187.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0be063a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0187.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0188.png b/27323-page-images/p0188.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f778f8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0188.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0189.png b/27323-page-images/p0189.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..903b179
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0189.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0190.png b/27323-page-images/p0190.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cad3a17
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0190.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0191.png b/27323-page-images/p0191.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..983985c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0191.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0192.png b/27323-page-images/p0192.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e5cad18
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0192.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0193.png b/27323-page-images/p0193.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..931ec81
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0193.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0194.png b/27323-page-images/p0194.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..497b28b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0194.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0195.png b/27323-page-images/p0195.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9deb83f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0195.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0196.png b/27323-page-images/p0196.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2b4d825
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0196.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0197.png b/27323-page-images/p0197.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff8c75a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0197.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0198.png b/27323-page-images/p0198.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..70f68eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0198.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0199.png b/27323-page-images/p0199.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7802a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0199.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0200.png b/27323-page-images/p0200.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..46c1317
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0200.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0201.png b/27323-page-images/p0201.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fb712f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0201.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0202.png b/27323-page-images/p0202.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5be71b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0202.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0203.png b/27323-page-images/p0203.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12cec31
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0203.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0204.png b/27323-page-images/p0204.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3448e68
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0204.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0205.png b/27323-page-images/p0205.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5052c11
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0205.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0206.png b/27323-page-images/p0206.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..edf039e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0206.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0207.png b/27323-page-images/p0207.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..06381cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0207.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0208.png b/27323-page-images/p0208.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0232a50
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0208.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0209.png b/27323-page-images/p0209.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e3491f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0209.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0210.png b/27323-page-images/p0210.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2e93d47
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0210.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0211.png b/27323-page-images/p0211.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4c12b01
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0211.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0212.png b/27323-page-images/p0212.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b36dbf6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0212.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0213.png b/27323-page-images/p0213.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f70c4d4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0213.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0214.png b/27323-page-images/p0214.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b289dd9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0214.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0215.png b/27323-page-images/p0215.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e5f827
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0215.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0216.png b/27323-page-images/p0216.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9101b1a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0216.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0217.png b/27323-page-images/p0217.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7fe007b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0217.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0218.png b/27323-page-images/p0218.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..668901d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0218.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0219.png b/27323-page-images/p0219.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1049e2b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0219.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0220.png b/27323-page-images/p0220.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..632bf58
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0220.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0221.png b/27323-page-images/p0221.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e40b46e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0221.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0222.png b/27323-page-images/p0222.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8d1060f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0222.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0223.png b/27323-page-images/p0223.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..78942e8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0223.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0224.png b/27323-page-images/p0224.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31dfbef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0224.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0225.png b/27323-page-images/p0225.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0867964
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0225.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0226.png b/27323-page-images/p0226.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..841fc6e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0226.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0227.png b/27323-page-images/p0227.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08c92ad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0227.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0228.png b/27323-page-images/p0228.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f9cebf0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0228.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0229.png b/27323-page-images/p0229.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..270b0b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0229.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0230.png b/27323-page-images/p0230.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0d52200
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0230.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0231.png b/27323-page-images/p0231.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c04a2bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0231.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0232.png b/27323-page-images/p0232.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1fb2c77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0232.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0233.png b/27323-page-images/p0233.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e22ebd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0233.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0234.png b/27323-page-images/p0234.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..824aa09
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0234.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0235.png b/27323-page-images/p0235.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b339433
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0235.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0236.png b/27323-page-images/p0236.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6df265b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0236.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0237.png b/27323-page-images/p0237.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..610d293
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0237.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0238.png b/27323-page-images/p0238.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9aae75e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0238.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0239.png b/27323-page-images/p0239.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..24e0d8a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0239.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0240.png b/27323-page-images/p0240.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f09aeea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0240.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0241.png b/27323-page-images/p0241.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04ec430
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0241.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0242.png b/27323-page-images/p0242.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f3a4d4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0242.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0243.png b/27323-page-images/p0243.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d44d616
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0243.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0244.png b/27323-page-images/p0244.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c75e873
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0244.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0245.png b/27323-page-images/p0245.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60d27ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0245.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0246.png b/27323-page-images/p0246.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18d8511
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0246.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0247.png b/27323-page-images/p0247.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c12b65e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0247.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0248.png b/27323-page-images/p0248.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a2d39db
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0248.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0249.png b/27323-page-images/p0249.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b98bdef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0249.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0250.png b/27323-page-images/p0250.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8e81c4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0250.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0251.png b/27323-page-images/p0251.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..521e85f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0251.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0252.png b/27323-page-images/p0252.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3317d25
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0252.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0253.png b/27323-page-images/p0253.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9dd8830
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0253.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0254.png b/27323-page-images/p0254.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..76ea336
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0254.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0255.png b/27323-page-images/p0255.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ab08b95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0255.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0256.png b/27323-page-images/p0256.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e65e924
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0256.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0257.png b/27323-page-images/p0257.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..84e523e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0257.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0258.png b/27323-page-images/p0258.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8536488
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0258.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0259.png b/27323-page-images/p0259.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..262e796
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0259.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0260.png b/27323-page-images/p0260.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a9dc43b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0260.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0261.png b/27323-page-images/p0261.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..904b381
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0261.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0262.png b/27323-page-images/p0262.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f8ea801
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0262.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0263.png b/27323-page-images/p0263.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7fd175e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0263.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0264.png b/27323-page-images/p0264.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8a59c88
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0264.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0265.png b/27323-page-images/p0265.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e180768
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0265.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0266.png b/27323-page-images/p0266.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0c0d050
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0266.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0267.png b/27323-page-images/p0267.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2f10eb4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0267.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0268.png b/27323-page-images/p0268.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..564d420
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0268.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0269.png b/27323-page-images/p0269.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bae3da2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0269.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0270.png b/27323-page-images/p0270.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0cd38d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0270.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0271.png b/27323-page-images/p0271.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..decf69b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0271.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0272.png b/27323-page-images/p0272.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75c7a25
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0272.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0273.png b/27323-page-images/p0273.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dfa63ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0273.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0274.png b/27323-page-images/p0274.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ff20ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0274.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0275.png b/27323-page-images/p0275.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4a29f5f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0275.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0276.png b/27323-page-images/p0276.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..36dcdbb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0276.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0277.png b/27323-page-images/p0277.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..501e3d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0277.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0278.png b/27323-page-images/p0278.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67d9ea6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0278.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0279.png b/27323-page-images/p0279.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..abf0f44
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0279.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0280.png b/27323-page-images/p0280.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..96b61d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0280.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0281.png b/27323-page-images/p0281.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61dd6b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0281.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0282.png b/27323-page-images/p0282.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2f51c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0282.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0283.png b/27323-page-images/p0283.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..924959c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0283.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0284.png b/27323-page-images/p0284.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f4fb7dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0284.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0285.png b/27323-page-images/p0285.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5b5197d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0285.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0286.png b/27323-page-images/p0286.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fb45be0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0286.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0287.png b/27323-page-images/p0287.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..07d2d5d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0287.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0288.png b/27323-page-images/p0288.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49d9ab7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0288.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0289.png b/27323-page-images/p0289.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3fed5d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0289.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0290.png b/27323-page-images/p0290.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cca7dd0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0290.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0291.png b/27323-page-images/p0291.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fe42986
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0291.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0292.png b/27323-page-images/p0292.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0e043f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0292.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0293.png b/27323-page-images/p0293.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..755743d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0293.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0294.png b/27323-page-images/p0294.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fe8613d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0294.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0295.png b/27323-page-images/p0295.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7903837
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0295.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0296.png b/27323-page-images/p0296.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c47f4e4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0296.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0297.png b/27323-page-images/p0297.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1cbc66d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0297.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0298.png b/27323-page-images/p0298.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..284c4bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0298.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0299.png b/27323-page-images/p0299.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c96f89b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0299.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0300.png b/27323-page-images/p0300.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ac31e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0300.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0301.png b/27323-page-images/p0301.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..421c479
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0301.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0302.png b/27323-page-images/p0302.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e8b3eaa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0302.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0303.png b/27323-page-images/p0303.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3859ad1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0303.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0304.png b/27323-page-images/p0304.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..801255c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0304.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0305.png b/27323-page-images/p0305.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b249f39
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0305.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0306.png b/27323-page-images/p0306.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..925be23
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0306.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0307.png b/27323-page-images/p0307.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..277acd2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0307.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0308.png b/27323-page-images/p0308.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..21665c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0308.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0309.png b/27323-page-images/p0309.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b995cc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0309.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0310.png b/27323-page-images/p0310.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c68894
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0310.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0311.png b/27323-page-images/p0311.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d11e4d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0311.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0312.png b/27323-page-images/p0312.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5f54803
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0312.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0313.png b/27323-page-images/p0313.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..89643eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0313.png
diff --git a/27323-page-images/p0314.png b/27323-page-images/p0314.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99f3c6f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323-page-images/p0314.png
diff --git a/27323.txt b/27323.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..500fc07
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8139 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Bird of Paradise, by Ada Leverson
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Bird of Paradise
+
+
+Author: Ada Leverson
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 24, 2008  [eBook #27323]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIRD OF PARADISE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+BIRD OF PARADISE
+
+by
+
+ADA LEVERSON
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Grant Richards Ltd. 1914
+
+
+
+
+TO ERNEST
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+    Chapter                                         Page
+
+        I EXCUSES                                      9
+
+       II LADY KELLYNCH                               25
+
+      III NIGEL                                       38
+
+       IV RUPERT AT RUMPELMEYER'S                     49
+
+        V A HAPPY HOME                                63
+
+       VI FUTURISM                                    77
+
+      VII RUSSIAN BALLET                              90
+
+     VIII PERCY                                       95
+
+       IX AN ANONYMOUS LETTER                        110
+
+        X MASTER CLIFFORD KELLYNCH                   120
+
+        XI A DISCOVERY                               129
+
+       XII A LOVE SCENE                              142
+
+      XIII RECONCILIATION                            150
+
+       XIV "TANGO"                                   155
+
+        XV CLIFFORD'S HISTORICAL PLAY                163
+
+       XVI A SECOND PROPOSAL                         167
+
+      XVII MORE ABOUT RUPERT                         172
+
+     XVIII "A SPECIAL FAVOUR"                        177
+
+       XIX A DEVOTED WIFE                            184
+
+        XX RUPERT AGAIN                              192
+
+       XXI THE HILLIERS' ENTERTAINMENT               196
+
+      XXII BERTHA AT HOME                            202
+
+     XXIII NIGEL'S LETTER                            205
+
+      XXIV LADY KELLYNCH AT HOME                     210
+
+       XXV MRS. PICKERING                            219
+
+      XXVI NEWS FROM VENICE                          227
+
+     XXVII ANOTHER ANONYMOUS LETTER                  232
+
+    XXVIII AN INTERVIEW                              237
+
+      XXIX NIGEL AND MARY                            245
+
+       XXX MISS BELVOIR                              256
+
+      XXXI MARY'S PLAN                               263
+
+     XXXII PRIVATE FIREWORKS AT THE PICKERINGS'      267
+
+    XXXIII NIGEL ABROAD                              284
+
+     XXXIV MOONA                                     289
+
+      XXXV TWO WOMEN                                 300
+
+     XXXVI PLAIN SAILING                             313
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+EXCUSES
+
+
+Poor Madeline came into the room a little flustered and hustled, with
+papers in her muff. She found Bertha looking lovely and serene as usual.
+
+Madeline Irwin was a modern-looking girl of twenty-three; tall, thin,
+smart and just the right shape; not pretty, but very sympathetic, with
+thick dark hair and strongly marked eyebrows, a rather long and narrow
+face, delicately modelled, a clear white complexion, and soft, sincere
+brown eyes.
+
+Bertha--Mrs. Percy Kellynch--was known as a beauty. She was indeed
+improbably pretty, small, plump and very fair, with soft golden hair
+that was silky and yet fluffy, perfectly regular little features, and a
+kind of infantine sweetness, combined with an almost incredible
+cleverness that was curious and fascinating. She was of a type remote
+equally from the fashion-plate and the suffragette, and was so
+physically attractive that one could hardly be near her without longing
+to put out a finger and touch her soft, fair face or her soft hair; as
+one would like to touch a kitten or a pretty child. And yet one felt
+that it would not be an entirely safe thing to do; like the child or the
+kitten she might scratch or run away. But it is probable that a large
+average of her acquaintance had been weak enough--or strong enough--to
+give way to the temptation and take the risk.
+
+This charming little creature sat in a room furnished in clear, pale
+colours--that was pink, white and blonde like herself. Madeline sat down
+without greeting her, saying in a scolding voice, as she rustled a
+letter:
+
+"He's refused again ... more excuses ... always, always excuses!"
+
+"Well, all the better; excuses are a form of compliment. I'd far rather
+have a lot of apology and attenuation than utter coolness," said Bertha
+consolingly. She had a low, even voice, and rarely made a gesture. Her
+animation was all in her eyes. They were long, bluish-grey, with dark
+lashes, and very expressive.
+
+"Oh, you'd _like_ a man to write and say that he couldn't come to dinner
+because it was his mother's birthday, and he always dined with her on
+that occasion, and besides he was in deep mourning, and had influenza,
+and was going to the first night at the St. James's, and was expecting
+some old friends up from the country to stay with him, and would be out
+of town shooting at the time?"
+
+"Certainly; so much inventive ingenuity is most flattering. Don't you
+think it's better than to say on the telephone that he wouldn't be able
+to come that evening as he wouldn't be able to; and then ring off?" said
+Bertha.
+
+"Rupert would never do that! He's intensely polite; politeness is
+ingrained in his nature. I'm rather hopeless about it all; and yet when
+I think how sometimes when I speak to him and he doesn't answer but
+gives that slight smile ..."
+
+"How well I know that slight, superior smile--discouraging yet spurring
+you on to further efforts! ... Rupert--Rupert! What a name! How can
+people be called Rupert? It isn't done, you're not living in a
+_feuilleton_, you must change the man's name, dear."
+
+"Indeed I sha'n't! Nonsense; it's a beautiful name! Rupert Denison! It
+suits him; it suits me. Bertha, you can't deny it's a handsome, noble
+face, like a Vandyke portrait of Charles I, or one of those people in
+the National Gallery. And he must take a certain amount of interest in
+me, because he wants me to learn more, to be more cultured. He's so
+accomplished! He knows simply everything. The other day he sent me a
+book about the early Italian masters."
+
+"Did he, though? How jolly!"
+
+"A little volume of Browning, too--that tiny edition, beautifully
+bound."
+
+Bertha made an inarticulate sound.
+
+"And you know he found out my birthday, and sent me a few dark red roses
+and Ruskin's Stones of Venice."
+
+"Nothing like being up to date," said Bertha. "Right up to the day after
+to-morrow! Rupert always is. How did he find out your birthday?"
+
+"How do you suppose?"
+
+"I can't think. By looking in _Who's Who?_--going to Somerset House or
+the British Museum?"
+
+"How unkind you are! Of course not. No--I told him."
+
+"Ah, I thought perhaps it was some ingenious plan like that. I should
+think that's the way he usually finds out things--by being told."
+
+"Bertha, why do you sneer at him?"
+
+"Did I?--I didn't mean to. Why does he behave like a belated
+schoolmaster?"
+
+"Behave like a--oh, Bertha!"
+
+Madeline was trying to be offended, but she could not succeed. It was
+nearly impossible to be angry with Bertha, when she was present. There
+were many reasons for this. Bertha had a small arched mouth, teeth that
+were tiny and white and marvellously regular, a dimple in her left
+cheek, long eyelashes that gave a veiled look to the eyes, and a
+generally very live-wax-dollish appearance which was exceedingly
+disarming. There was a touch, too, of the china shepherdess about her.
+But, of course, she was not really like a doll, nor remote from life;
+she was very real, living and animated; though she had for the
+connoisseur all the charm of an exquisite _bibelot_ that is not for
+sale.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha was twenty-eight, but looked younger than her age. Madeline might
+have been her senior. Under this peachlike appearance, and with the
+premeditated _naivete_ of her manner, she was always astonishing people
+by her penetration and general ingenuity; she was at once very quick and
+very deep--quick especially to perceive and enjoy incongruities, and
+deep in understanding them; extremely observant, and not in the least
+superficial. Almost her greatest interest was the study of character;
+she had an intellectual passion for going below the surface, and finding
+out the little _coins inedits_ of the soul. She was rather unpractical,
+but only in execution, and she had the gift of getting the practical
+side of life well done for her, not letting it be neglected. Her
+bonbonniere of a drawing-room seemed to be different from ordinary
+rooms, though one hardly knew in what; partly from the absence of
+superfluities; and somehow after many a triumph over the bewilderment of
+a sulky yet dazzled decorator, Bertha had contrived, in baffling him, to
+make the house look distinguished without being unconventional; dainty
+without being artificial; she had made it suit her perfectly and, what
+was more, the atmosphere was reposeful. Her husband always besought her
+to do anything on earth she wished in her own home, rather in the same
+way that one would give an intelligent canary _carte blanche_ about the
+decoration of what was supposed to be its cage.
+
+Percy Kellynch, the husband--he was spoken of as the husband (people
+said: "Is that the husband?" or "What's the husband like?")--was a
+rather serious-looking barrister with parliamentary ambitions, two mild
+hobbies (which took the form of Tschaikowsky at the Queen's Hall and
+squash rackets at the Bath Club), a fine forehead, behind which there
+was less doing than one would suppose, polished manners, an amiable
+disposition and private means.
+
+For Madeline's sake, Bertha was interested in Rupert Denison, and
+determined to understand him. When she reached bedrock in her friends,
+it was not unusual for her to grow tired of them. But she was gentle and
+considerate even to the people who left her cold; and when she really
+cared for anyone, she was loyal, passionate and extraordinarily
+tenacious.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"A schoolmaster!" repeated Madeline rather dismally. "Well! perhaps
+there may be just a touch of that in Rupert. When I'm going to see him I
+do feel rather nervous and a little as if I was going up for an exam."
+
+"Well, let's say a holiday tutor," conceded Bertha. "He _is_ so
+educational!"
+
+"At any rate, he bothers about what I ought and oughtn't to know; he
+pays me _some_ attention!"
+
+"The only modern thing about him is his paying you so little," said
+Bertha. "And, Madeline, we mustn't forget that young men are very
+difficult to get hold of nowadays--for girls. Everyone complains of it.
+Formerly they wouldn't dance, but they'd do everything else. Now,
+dancing's the only thing they will do. People are always making bitter
+remarks to me about it. There's not the slightest doubt that, except for
+dancing, young men just now, somehow or other, are scarce, wild and
+shy. And the funny thing is that they'll two-step and one-step and
+double-Boston and Tango the whole evening, but that's practically all.
+Oh, they're most unsatisfactory! Lots of girls have told me so. And as
+to proposals! Why, they're the _rarest_ thing! Even when the modern
+young man is devoted you can't be sure of serious intentions, except, of
+course, in the Royal Family, or at the Gaiety."
+
+"Well, _I_ don't care! I'm sure I don't want all these silly dancing
+young men. They bore me to death. Give me _culture_! and all that sort
+of thing. Only--only Rupert! ... Very often after he's refused an
+invitation, like this of mother's, he'll write and ask me to have tea
+with him at Rumpelmeyer's, or somewhere; and then he'll talk and talk
+the whole time about ... oh, any general instructive subject."
+
+"For instance?"
+
+"Oh ... architecture!"
+
+"How inspiriting!"
+
+"But does it all mean anything, Bertha?"
+
+"I almost think it must," she answered dreamily. "No man could take a
+girl out to eat ices and talk of the cathedral at Rouen, or discuss
+Pointed Gothic and Norman arches over tea and bread and butter, without
+_some_ intentions. It wouldn't be human."
+
+"It's quite true he always seems to take a good deal for granted,"
+remarked Madeline.
+
+"But not enough."
+
+"Exactly!"
+
+"Rupert would make a very good husband--if you could stand him," said
+Bertha meditatively; "he's one of those thoroughly well-informed people
+who never know what is going on."
+
+"If I could _stand_ him! Why, Bertha! I'd work my fingers to the bone,
+and lay down my life for him!"
+
+"He doesn't want your life, and, probably, not bony fingers either, but
+he'll want incense swung, _all_ the time, remember; and always in front
+of him only. He won't be half as good-natured and indulgent as Percy."
+
+"Of course, Percy's very sweet, and kind and clever, and devoted to
+you," said Madeline, "but I always feel that it would have been more
+your ideal to have married your first love, Nigel; and far more
+romantic, too. He's so good-looking and amusing, and how delightfully he
+sings Debussy!"
+
+"Nigel! Oh, nonsense. There's no one more really prosaic. Debussy,
+indeed! I met him with his wife the other night at the opera and he
+introduced us. My dear, she's got flat red hair, an aigrette, a
+turned-up nose, a receding chin and long ear-rings; and she's quite
+young and very dowdy: the sort of dowdiness that's rather smart. She
+loathed me--that is to say, we took a mutual dislike, and a
+determination never to meet again, so strong that it amounted to a kind
+of friendship; we tacitly agreed to keep out of each other's way. I
+suppose there's such a thing as a sort of comradeship in aversion,"
+Bertha added thoughtfully.
+
+"Oh, Bertha, fancy anybody disliking you!"
+
+"It's only because Nigel had told her, _in camera_, that he was in love
+with me once, and that we were almost engaged."
+
+"Did he say who broke it off?"
+
+"Yes, I should think he told the truth--that he did--but he didn't
+mention the real reasons, that he was horribly hard up and saw a chance
+of marrying an heiress. I daresay, too, that he said no other woman
+would ever be quite the same to him again, for fear Mrs. Nigel should be
+too pleased. Nigel is nice and amusing and he's sometimes very useful.
+He thinks he treated me badly, and really has got to appreciate me
+since, and as he knows I'm utterly indifferent to him now, he's devoted,
+I mean as a friend--he'll do anything on earth for me. He has absolutely
+nothing to do, you see; it's a kindness to employ him."
+
+"What do you give him to do?"
+
+"It depends. This time I've told him to get hold of Rupert and ask us
+all three--I mean you, and me and Rupert--to dine and go to some play.
+It would be so much less ceremonious than asking Rupert here, with
+Percy."
+
+"Oh, darling Bertha, you're an angel! I always said Nigel was charming.
+What about Mrs. Nigel, and Percy?"
+
+"Don't worry; that shall be arranged. Their rights shall not be ignored,
+nor their interests neglected! Percy's little finger is worth all Nigel.
+Still, Nigel has his good points; he might help us in this. There are so
+many things he can do, he's so _fin_--and adaptable, and diplomatic.
+That young brother of his, Charlie, is in love with you, Madeline. Now,
+he's a boy who _could_ marry, and who wants to. If you gave him only a
+look of encouragement he would propose at once. And he has a good deal
+of Nigel's charm, though he's not so clever, but he's very much
+steadier. Really, it's a pity you don't like him. I'm sorry."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't," said Madeline.
+
+"He's quite a nice boy, too; and I know how much he likes you, from
+Nigel."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't!" Madeline repeated, shaking her head.
+
+Bertha seemed silently to assent.
+
+"And will dear Nigel ask me all the same to meet Rupert, Bertha?"
+
+"Oh yes; we'll arrange it to-day. Nigel's delightfully prompt, and never
+delays anything."
+
+"And what will happen to Percy? You scarcely ever go out without him."
+
+"Oh, I can persuade Percy, for once, that he wants his mother to go with
+him to the Queen's Hall. And I'll make Lady Kellynch think it's rather a
+shame of her to take my place; then she'll enjoy it. We'll arrange it
+for next week. I'm expecting her this afternoon."
+
+"Oh, are you? I'm always rather afraid she doesn't like me," said
+Madeline pensively.
+
+"She doesn't _dis_like you. She doesn't dislike anybody; only, simply,
+you don't exist for her. My mother-in-law really believes that the whole
+of humanity consists of her own family; first, her late husband; then
+Percy, then Clifford, the boy at school, and, in a very slight degree,
+me too, because I'm married to Percy. I do like Clifford, though he's a
+spoilt boy, and selfish. But he's great fun. How his mother adores him!
+I hope she won't stay long to-day--Nigel will be here at six."
+
+Madeline fell into a reverie, a sort of mental swoon. Then she suddenly
+woke up and said with great animation,--
+
+"No, I suppose I dare not hope it!--I believe I should expire with
+joy!--but he _never_ will! But if he _did_ propose, how do you suppose
+he'd do it, Bertha?"
+
+"Heaven knows--quote Browning, I suppose," said Bertha, "I don't often
+meet that type. I can only guess. Do you care so much, Madeline?"
+
+"_Do_ I care!"
+
+"And you believe it's the real thing?"
+
+"I know it is--on my side; it's incurable."
+
+"Everyone says Rupert's a good fellow, but he seems to me a little--what
+shall I say?--too elaborate. Too urbane; too ornate. He expresses
+himself so dreadfully well! I don't believe he ever uses a shorter word
+than _individuality_!"
+
+"Oh, I don't care what he is, I want him--I want him!" cried Madeline.
+
+"Well! I suppose you know what you want. It isn't as though you were
+always in love with somebody or other; as a rule, a girl of your age, if
+she can't have the person she wants, can be very quickly consoled if you
+give her someone else instead. Now, you've never had even a fancy
+before. _I_ may not (I don't) see the charm of Rupert, but it must be
+there; probably there's something in his temperament that's needed by
+yours--something that he can supply to you that no one else can. If you
+really want him, you must have him, darling," said Bertha, with
+resolution. "You shall!"
+
+"How can you say that; how can you make him care for me if he doesn't?"
+
+"I don't know, but I shall. It's certain; don't worry; and do what I
+tell you. Mind, I think that there are many other people far more
+amusing, besides being better matches from the worldly point of
+view--like Charlie Hillier, for instance--but the great thing is that
+you care for your Rupert; and I don't believe you'll change."
+
+They were never demonstrative to each other, and Madeline only looked at
+her with trusting, beaming gratitude. Bertha was indeed convinced that
+this mania for Rupert was the real thing; it would never fade from
+fulfilment, nor even die if discouraged; it would always burn
+unalterably bright.
+
+"Yes; yes, it shall be all right," repeated Bertha.
+
+She spoke in a curious, reassuring tone that Madeline knew, and that
+always impressed her.
+
+"Really? Yet you say they are so difficult nowadays!"
+
+"Well, the majority of the men in our set certainly don't seem to be
+exactly pining for hearth and home. Still, in some moods a man will
+marry anyone who happens to be there."
+
+"Then must I happen to be there? How can I?"
+
+Bertha laughed. There was a confidence without reservation between them,
+notwithstanding a slight tinge of the histrionic in Madeline, which
+occasionally irritated Bertha. But the real link was that they both
+instinctively threw overboard all but the essential; they cared
+comparatively little for most of the preoccupations and smaller
+solicitudes of the women in their own leisured class. There was in
+neither of them anything of the social snob or the narrow outlook of the
+bourgeoise; they were free from pose, petty ambitions, or trivial
+affectations.
+
+Madeline looked up to Bertha as a wonderful combination of kindness,
+cleverness, beauty and knowledge of the world. Bertha felt that Madeline
+was not quite so well equipped for dealing with life as she herself was;
+there was a shade of protection in her friendship.
+
+Bertha was far more daring than Madeline, but her occasional recklessness
+was only pluck and love of adventure; not imprudence; it was always
+guided by reason and an instinctive sense of self-preservation. She
+was a little experimental, that was all. Madeline was more timid and
+sensitive; though not nearly so quick to see things as Bertha she took
+them to heart more, far more;--was far less lively and ironical.
+
+"Though I find Rupert dull, as I say, I believe he's as good as gold, or
+I wouldn't try and help you. Now if he were a man like Nigel!--who's
+very much more fascinating and charming--I wouldn't raise a finger,
+because I know he's fickle, dangerous and selfish, and wouldn't make you
+happy. Charlie would, though; I wish you liked Charlie. But one can't
+account for these things."
+
+"Quite impossible," Madeline said, shaking her head.
+
+"Well! It's quite possible that Rupert would suit you best; and I
+believe if you once got him he'd be all right. And you shall!" she
+repeated.
+
+"_Thank_ you!" said Madeline fervently, as if Bertha had promised her a
+box of chocolates or a present of some kind.
+
+"Lady Kellynch!" announced the servant.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+LADY KELLYNCH
+
+
+A tall, stately, handsome woman, slow and quiet in movement, dressed in
+velvet and furs, came deliberately into the room. The magnificent,
+imposing Lady Kellynch had that quiet dignity and natural ease and
+distinction sometimes seen in the widow of a knight, but unknown amongst
+the old aristocracy. It was generally supposed, or, at all events,
+stated, that the late Sir Percy Kellynch had been knighted by mistake
+for somebody else; through a muddle owing to somebody's deafness. The
+result was the same, since his demise left her with a handle to her
+name, but no one to turn it (to quote the _mot_ of a well-known wit),
+and she looked, at the very least, like a peeress in her own right.
+Indeed, she was the incarnation of what the romantic lower middle
+classes imagine a great lady;--a dressmaker's ideal of a duchess. She
+had the same high forehead, without much thought behind it, so
+noticeable in her son Percy, and the same clearly cut features; and it
+was true, as Bertha had said, that she firmly believed the whole of the
+world, of the slightest importance, consisted of her late husband,
+herself, her married son Percy, and her boy Clifford at school; the rest
+of the universe was merely an audience, or a background, for this unique
+family.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+If anyone spoke of a European crisis that was interesting the general
+public, she would reply by saying what Percy thought about it; if a more
+frivolous subject (such as _You Shut Up_, or some other popular Revue)
+was mentioned, she would answer, reassuringly, that she knew Clifford
+had a picture post-card of one of the performers, implying thereby that
+it _must_ be all right. She loved Bertha mildly, and with reservations,
+because Percy loved her, and because Bertha wished her to; but she
+really thought it would have been more suitable if Bertha had been a
+little more colourless, a little plainer, a little stupider and more
+ordinary; not that her attractions would ever cause any trouble to
+Percy, but because it seemed as if a son of hers ought to have a wife to
+throw him up more. Percy, however, had no idea that Bertha was anything
+but a good foil to him, intellectually--and, as I have said, he regarded
+her (or believed he regarded her) a good deal like a pet canary.
+
+"Percy will soon be home, I suppose? To-day is not the day he goes to
+the Queen's Hall, is it?" asked Lady Kellynch, who thought any hall was
+highly honoured by Percy's presence, and very lucky to get it. She gave
+a graceful but rather unrecognising bow to Madeline, whom she never knew
+by sight. She really knew hardly anyone by sight except her sons; and
+this was the more odd as she had a particularly large circle of
+acquaintances, and made a point of accepting and returning every
+invitation she received, invariably being amongst those present at every
+possible form of entertainment, and punctiliously calling on people
+afterwards. She was always mounting staircases, going up in lifts, and
+driving about leaving cards, and was extremely hospitable and
+superlatively social. Bertha always wondered at her gregariousness,
+since one would fancy she could have got very little satisfaction in
+continual intercourse with a crowd of people whom she forgot the instant
+they were out of her sight. Lady Kellynch really knew people chiefly by
+their telephone numbers and their days, when they had any. She would
+say: "Mrs. So-and-so? Oh yes, six-three-seven-five Gerrard, at home on
+Sundays," but could rarely recollect anything else about her. She was at
+once vague and precise, quite amiable, very sentimental and utterly
+heartless; except to her sons.
+
+"No, Percy won't be home till dinner-time. To-day he's playing squash
+rackets."
+
+"That's so like his father," said Lady Kellynch admiringly. "He was
+always so fond of sports, and devoted to music. When I say sports, to be
+_strictly_ accurate I don't mean that he ever cared for rude, rough
+games like football or anything cruel like hunting or shooting, but he
+loved to look on at a game of cricket, and I've often been to Lord's
+with him." She sighed. "Dominoes! he was wild about dominoes! I assure
+you (dear Percy would remember), every evening after dinner he must have
+his game of dominoes, and sometimes even after lunch."
+
+"Dominoes, as you say, isn't exactly a field sport," sympathetically
+agreed Bertha.
+
+"Quite so, dear. But, however, that was his favourite game. Then, did I
+say just now he was fond of music? He didn't care for the kind that
+Percy likes, but he would rarely send a piano-organ away, and he even
+encouraged the German bands. How fond he was of books too--and reading,
+and that sort of thing! Percy gets his fondness for books from his
+father. Clifford too is fond of books."
+
+"He is indeed," said Bertha; "he's devoted to books. Last time I went to
+see him, when he was at home for the holidays, I found among his books a
+nice copy of 'The New Arabian Nights.' We hadn't one in the house at the
+time, and I asked him to lend it to me."
+
+"Did you indeed?"
+
+Lady Kellynch looked a shade surprised, as if it had been rather a
+liberty.
+
+"Well," said Bertha, laughing, and turning to Madeline, "what do you
+think he said? 'Bertha, I'm awfully sorry, but I make it a rule never to
+lend books. I don't approve of it--half the time they don't come back,
+and in fact--oh, I don't think it's a good plan. I never do it.' I took
+up the book and found written in it: '_To Bertha, with love from
+Percy_.' I said: 'So you don't approve of lending books. Do you see this
+is my book?' He looked at it and said solemnly: 'Yes, so it is, but I
+can't let you have it. I'm in the middle of it. Besides--oh! anyhow, I
+want it!'"
+
+Madeline and Bertha both laughed, saying that Clifford was really
+magnificent for twelve years old.
+
+Lady Kellynch seemed astonished at their amusement. She only said: "Oh
+yes; I know Clifford's _most_ particular about his books."
+
+"And even about my books," said Bertha.
+
+"Quite so, dear. They say in his report that he's getting so orderly.
+It's a very good report this term--er--at least, very good on the
+_whole_."
+
+"Oh, do let me see it."
+
+"No, I don't think I'll show it you. But I'll tell you what I'll do,
+I'll read you some extracts from it, if you like." She said this as if
+it were an epic poem, and she was promising them a rare literary treat.
+
+She took something out of her bag. "I know he doesn't work _very_ hard
+at school, but then the winter term is such a trying one; so cold for
+them to get up in the morning, poor little darlings!"
+
+"Poor pets!" said Bertha.
+
+Lady Kellynch took it out, while the others looked away discreetly, as
+she searched for suitable selections.
+
+After a rather long pause she read aloud, a little pompously and with
+careful elocution:
+
+"'_Doing fairly well in dictation, and becoming more accurate; in Latin
+moderate, scarcely up to the level of the form. ..._'"
+
+"Is it in blank verse?" asked Bertha.
+
+"Oh no! ... Of course he's in a very high form for his age." She then
+went on, after a longer pause: "'_Music and dancing: music, rather weak
+... dancing, a steady worker._' That's very good, isn't it? ...
+'_Map-drawing: very slovenly._'" (She read this rather proudly.)
+"'_Conduct: lethargic and unsteady; but a fair speller._' Excellent,
+isn't it? Of course they're frightfully severe at that school. ... Oh
+yes, and there's '_Bible good, but deficient in general knowledge. Has a
+little ability, but rarely uses it. ..._' It's dreadfully difficult to
+please them, really! But I think it's very satisfactory, don't you?"
+
+Realising that Lady Kellynch had only read aloud the very best and most
+brilliant extracts that she could find in the report--purple patches, as
+one may say--Bertha gathered that it could hardly have been worse. So
+she congratulated the mother warmly and cordially, and said how fond she
+was of Clifford.
+
+"He will be home soon for the Easter holidays. You must let him come and
+stay with us."
+
+"It's very kind of you, dear. Certainly he shall come, part of the time.
+I can't bear to part with him--especially at first. Yes--at first I feel
+I never want him to leave me again! However, he enjoys himself so much
+here that I like to send him to you towards the end. He looks upon
+Bertha quite like a playmate," she said to Madeline. Something about
+Madeline reminded her of someone she had met.
+
+"I was at a dinner-party last night where I met a young man I saw here
+once, who took you in to dinner. He knows Percy--he was at Balliol with
+Percy--a Mr. Denison--Mr. Rupert Denison. He seemed inclined to be
+rather intellectual. He talked to me a great deal about something--I
+forget what; but I know it was some subject: something that Percy once
+had to pass an examination in. ... I can't remember what it was. I used
+to know his mother; Mrs. Denison--a charming woman! I'm afraid though
+she didn't leave him very well off. I wonder how he manages to make two
+ends meet?"
+
+"He manages all right; he makes them lap over, I should think. Who did
+he take to dinner?" Bertha asked this in Madeline's interest.
+
+"Oh, a girl I don't like at all, whom I often see about. She's always
+everywhere. I daresay you know her, a Miss Chivvey, a Miss Moona
+Chivvey--a good family, the Chivveys of Warwickshire. But she's rather
+artistic-looking." (Lady Kellynch lowered her voice as if she were
+saying something improper:) "She has untidy hair and green beads round
+her neck. I don't like her--I don't like her style at all."
+
+"I've heard him mention her," said Madeline.
+
+"He talked to her a good deal in the evening, and he gave me the
+impression that he was giving her some sort of lesson--a lecture on
+architecture, or something. Well, dear, as Percy won't be in yet, I
+think I'd better go. I have a round of visits to pay."
+
+"Percy is going to write to you. He wants you to go to a concert with
+him. He particularly wants you to go."
+
+Lady Kellynch brightened up. "Dear boy, does he? Of course I'll go.
+Well, good-bye, darling."
+
+She swept from the room with the queenly grace and dignity that always
+seemed a little out of proportion to the occasion--one expected her to
+make a court curtsy, and go out backwards.
+
+"My mother-in-law really believes it matters whether she calls on people
+or not," said Bertha, in her low, even voice. "Isn't it touching?"
+
+Madeline seized her hand.
+
+"Bertha, need I be frightened of Moona Chivvey? She's a dangerous sort
+of girl; she takes interest in all the things Rupert does: pictures, and
+poetry and art needlework."
+
+"Does Rupert really do art needlework? What a universal genius he is!"
+
+"Don't be absurd! I mean the things he understands. And she runs after
+him, rather. Need I be afraid?"
+
+"No, you need not," reassured Bertha. "I don't think she sounds at all
+violent. There's a ring."
+
+"Then I'll go."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Almost immediately afterwards the servant announced "Mr. Nigel Hillier."
+
+Nigel Hillier came in cheerily and gaily, brimming over with vitality
+and in the highest spirits. At present he was like sunshine and fresh
+air. There was a lurking danger that as he grew older he might become
+breezy. But as yet there was no sign of a draught. He was just
+delightfully exhilarating. He was not what women call handsome or
+divine, but he was rather what men call a smart-looking chap: fair, with
+bright blue eyes, and the most mischievous smile in London. He was
+unusually rapid in thought, speech and movement, without being restless,
+and his presence was an excellent cure for slackness, languor,
+strenuousness or a morbid sense of duty.
+
+"You look as if you had only just got up," remarked Bertha, as she gave
+him her hand. "Not a bit as though you'd been through the fatigues and
+worries and the heat and burden of the day."
+
+"Oh, that's too bad!" he answered. "You know perfectly well I always get
+up in time to see the glorious sunset! Why this reproach? I don't know
+that I've ever seen you very early in the day; I always regard you less
+as a daughter of the morning than as a minion of the moon."
+
+"How is Mrs. Hillier?" replied Bertha rather coldly.
+
+"All right--I promise I won't. Mary? Why Mary is well--very well--but
+just, perhaps, a teeny bit trying--just a shade wearing. No--no, I don't
+mean that. ... Well, I'm at your service for the play and so on. Shall I
+write to Rupert Denison and Miss Irwin? And will you all come and dine
+with me, and where shall we go?"
+
+"Don't you think something thrilling and exciting and emotional--or,
+perhaps, something light and frivolous?"
+
+"For Rupert I advise certainly the trivial, the flippant. It would have
+a better effect. Why not go to the new Revue--'_That will be
+Fourpence_'--where they have the two young Simultaneous Dancers, the
+Misses Zanie and Lunie Le Face--one, I fancy, is more simultaneous than
+the other, I forget which. They are delightful, and will wake Denison
+up. In fact, I don't know who they _wouldn't_ wake up, they make such a
+row. They dance and sing, about Dixie and Honey and coons--and that sort
+of thing. They sing quite well, too--I mean for them."
+
+"But not for us? ... No, I don't want to take him with Madeline to
+anything that could be called a music-hall--something more correct for a
+_jeune fille_ would be better. ..."
+
+"To lead to a proposal, you mean. Well, we'd better fall back upon His
+Majesty's or Granville Barker. Poor Charlie! It's hard lines on that
+boy, Bertha--he's really keen on Miss Irwin."
+
+"I know; but what can we do? It's Rupert Denison she cares about."
+
+"Likes him, does she?" said Nigel.
+
+"Very much," answered Bertha, who rarely used a strong expression, but
+whose eyes made the words emphatic.
+
+Nigel whistled. "Oh, well, if it's as bad as that!"
+
+"It is. Quite."
+
+"Fancy! Lucky chap, old Rupert. Well, we must rush it through for them,
+I suppose. About the play--you want something serious, what price
+Shakespeare?"
+
+"No price. Let's go to the Russian Ballet."
+
+"Capital!" cried Nigel, moving quickly to the telephone in case she
+should change her mind; "and we'll dine at the Carlton first. May I use
+your telephone?"
+
+"Please!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+NIGEL
+
+
+The relation between Bertha and Nigel Hillier was a rather curious one.
+He had met her when she was eighteen. The attraction had been sudden,
+violent and mutual; and she was quite prepared to marry him against all
+opposition. There had been a good deal in her own family, because Nigel
+was what is euphemistically called without means, and she was the
+daughter of a fashionable London vicar who, though distinguished for his
+eloquence and extremely popular, successful and social, had a
+comparatively small income and a positively large family. In a short
+time Nigel--not Bertha--succumbed to the family opposition and the
+general prudent disapproval of worldly friends. He wrote and told Bertha
+that he was afraid after all they were right; persuaded to this view by
+having meanwhile met the only daughter of a millionaire when staying for
+a week-end at a country house. The girl had fallen in love with him,
+and was practically independent.
+
+A few months after his gorgeous wedding, described and photographed with
+the greatest enthusiasm in all the illustrated papers, Bertha married
+Percy Kellynch, to the great satisfaction of her relations. Nigel was,
+by then, a lost illusion, a disappointed ideal; she did not long resent
+his defection and it cured her passion, but she despised him for what
+she regarded as the baseness of his motive.
+
+She loved and looked up to Percy, but her marriage to him had not been
+at the time one of romance--to her great regret. She would have liked it
+to be, for she was one of those ardent souls to whom the glamour of love
+was everything; she could never worship false gods. But Bertha had a
+warm, grateful nature, and finding him even better than she expected,
+her affection threw out roots and tendrils; became deeper and deeper;
+her experience with Nigel had made her particularly appreciative of
+Percy's good qualities. She was expansive, affectionate and constant;
+and she really cared far more about Percy now than she did when she
+married him. And this, though she was quite aware that he was entirely
+wanting in several things that she had particularly valued in Nigel (a
+sense of humour for one), and that he had inherited rather acutely the
+depressing Kellynch characteristic of taking oneself seriously.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Percy, on the other hand, had been quite carried away by her rosebud
+charm and prettiness, and he had continued to regard her as a pet and a
+luxury (for he was pre-eminently one of that large class of people who
+see only the obvious). But he had never realised her complexities, and
+was quite unaware of her depth and strength of mind. He was proud of her
+popularity, and had never known a jealous moment. Since they had never
+had a shadow of a quarrel, theirs might certainly be described as a
+happy marriage; although Bertha had always found it from the first
+rather deficient in the elements of excitement and a little wanting in
+fun.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nigel, who had been in a frightful hole when he met the heiress, of
+course made a point of discovering, as soon as all grinding money
+troubles had been removed and agonising debts paid, that no material
+things were capable of making him happy. The gratification to his vanity
+of his big country house, and charming house in London and so forth,
+amused him for a very short time. He became horribly bored, and when
+Bertha married Percy Kellynch, felt pained and particularly surprised
+and disappointed in her. He had always believed her to be so superior to
+other girls, so true and loyal! It was quite a disillusion; to think
+that she could get over _him_ so easily! Women usually took much longer
+than that. However, he now despised himself even more as a fool than as
+a coward for having given up Bertha, and not being of the type who
+trouble to conceal their feelings in domestic life, he openly and
+frankly showed to the unfortunate Mary that he knew he had made an
+irrevocable mistake. This was the natural way of regaining his
+self-respect, since he was under the deepest obligation to her. To add
+to his annoyance, not long after the marriage he and his brother Charlie
+came into a legacy from an unexpected and forgotten relative. He knew,
+then, that if he had waited a little longer, (as she had wished), he
+could, without sacrifice, have married Bertha; and so he was naturally
+very angry with Mary.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Now that Bertha was beyond his reach she seemed to him the one desirable
+thing in the world. For several years they hardly met; then Nigel
+contrived that they should become friends again. Her feeling for him
+could never be revived. His was far more vivid than formerly. It was
+fanned by her coolness, and was in a fair way to become an _idee fixe_,
+for he was not material enough to live without some dream, some ideal,
+and Bertha found him amusing. There always had been a certain mental
+sympathy between them; in a sense (superficially and humorously), they
+saw life very much from the same standpoint. With the instinctive tact
+of the real lover of women he carefully concealed from her the secret
+that made his home life miserable, instead of merely tedious. It was,
+simply, that Mary was morbidly, madly jealous of him. He had shown far
+too soon that he had married her for her money, and if he had convinced
+her that she had bought him, it was perhaps natural in return that she
+should wish for her money's worth. The poor woman was passionately in
+love with Nigel. She suspected him of infidelity, with and without
+reason, morning, noon, and night; it was almost a monomania. They had
+two children in the first and second years of the marriage. Nigel was
+carelessly fond of them, but he regarded them rather as a private luxury
+and resource of his wife, mistakenly thinking their society could fill
+up all the gaps made by his rather frequent absences. Nigel knew better
+than to complain of his wife, or to ask for sympathy from Bertha, for he
+was certain that if she had the faintest idea of the jealousy, her door
+would be closed to him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha was peculiarly kind, peculiarly full of sympathy for her own sex.
+And yet she was not at all fond of the society of women, with few
+exceptions; and she was often bored by the liking and admiration she
+usually inspired in them. Something in her personality disarmed ordinary
+jealousy, for though she was pretty and attractive, it was easy for
+other women to see that she was not trying to attract. What the average
+woman resents in another woman is not her involuntary charm; it is her
+making use of it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+With the casual indiscretion of the selfish man, Nigel, of course, told
+his wife at length, early in the honeymoon, all about his romance with
+Bertha. This Mary had never forgiven. Curiously, she minded more this
+old innocent affair of ten years ago, which he had broken off for _her_,
+than any of his flirtations since. Bertha had rightly guessed that, when
+they met, Mary had taken a great dislike to her. But she had no idea
+that Nigel's wife was suspicious, nor that she seriously and bitterly
+resented his visits. He never admitted them to Mary if he could help
+it, for he had learnt by now to be so far considerate to her--or to
+himself--that he would tell her fifty fibs in half-an-hour rather than
+let out one annoying fact. Nigel saw--he was very quick in these
+matters--that the only terms on which he could ever see anything of
+Bertha were those of the intimate old brotherly friend; the slightest
+look or suggestion of sentiment of any kind made her curl up and look
+angry. She made it utterly impossible for him to make the slightest
+allusion to the past. The friendliness had been growing to intimacy, and
+Nigel believed that perhaps with time he might get back to the old
+terms, or something like them. It was becoming the chief object of his
+life. He was a keen sportsman, and the ambition of the hunter was added
+to the longing of the lover. A born diplomatist, he had, of course,
+easily made Percy like him immensely. But he hated Percy, and could
+never forgive him for the unpardonable injury he had done to him, Nigel,
+in consoling Bertha. Nigel could not bear to own, even to himself, that
+Bertha was happy in her married life. Sometimes he would swear to
+himself when he remembered that it was all his own doing, that she might
+have been _his_ wife. How coolly she had taken it! She had accepted it
+at the time with calm acquiescence, and met him again with amiable
+composure. Had she ever really forgiven him?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It had opened her eyes, had been a shock. She saw him now as the
+shattered dream of her childish fancy, and she was thankful for her
+escape. Yet deep down in her heart was a slight scar. It did not make
+her hate Nigel, but apart from the fun and pleasantness of their
+intercourse her real indifference to him was slightly tinged with
+acidity: probably she would have been less sorry for him in any trouble
+than for anybody else.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha's vanity was not a very vivid part of her, and it took only one
+form. When she cared for anyone she was deeply (though not outwardly)
+exacting; she wanted that person entirely. To say that the general
+admiration she received gave her no pleasure would be an absurd
+exaggeration; if she had suddenly lost it, she would have missed it very
+much, no doubt. But after all, she valued it chiefly because she thought
+it was good for Percy. Privately she was not satisfied that Percy valued
+her enough. Had her many friends and acquaintances been told that the
+chief wish of the pretty Mrs. Kellynch was the more complete and
+absolute conquest of her own husband--who seemed much more devoted than
+most husbands--they would have been surprised, incredulous, perhaps even
+a little shocked.
+
+Nigel had promised to use all the means at his disposal to help
+Madeline. Bertha was anxious her friend should have what she had just
+missed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well! Soon after the dinner I shall go and see Rupert in his rooms. I
+shall get to know him well, and I shall gradually tell him about
+Charlie, and how keen he is, and lead up to Miss Irwin, and say what a
+charming girl she is, and all that sort of thing. Nothing makes so much
+impression."
+
+"Don't make him jealous of Charlie," said Bertha. "Anything that he
+regarded as a slight I think would put an end to it. Rupert is not quite
+a commonplace man."
+
+"Jealous? Oh no, I should merely imply that Miss Madeline won't have
+anything to say to Charlie, and that I wonder why. But it can't do him
+any harm to know someone else wants her. My dear girl, a man understands
+another man. That is where women are such fools. They think they know
+more about men than men do, and that is why they are always being----"
+He stopped.
+
+She smiled.
+
+"Oh no. I quite do you justice, Nigel. I am never above consulting you
+on that sort of subject. I may know just a little bit more about men
+than some women do, for one reason----"
+
+"And what is that? Because you attract them?"
+
+"No, that doesn't help much. It's because I have brothers, and they have
+always confided in me without reserve. Oh! there was one more thing I
+_may_ have to ask you. I don't want to, and I don't like it at all, on
+account of Mrs. Hillier; but still it might happen to be necessary. It's
+_just_ possible I may ask you to flirt a little with a girl called Moona
+Chivvey."
+
+"Oh, _I_ know her." He smiled. "Of course I'd do anything for you, but
+_that_ would be about the hardest thing you could command."
+
+"She's not uninteresting," said Bertha. "I shall find out how she stands
+with Rupert, and I don't think there's much danger. But if it should be
+required--well--you might go further and fare worse."
+
+"I expect I should go further than Rupert," murmured Nigel.
+
+"Nigel, _don't_ think I haven't scruples about things. I have, very
+much, but I know a good deal about Moona, and I really think that any
+harmless thing we can do to remove obstacles for poor Madeline should be
+done. I promised Madeline. I shall be grateful if you'll help, Nigel."
+
+"There's no question about it," said Nigel. "Of course it must be rushed
+through. And now I suppose you want me to go?"
+
+"Oh no! Please don't! Percy will be here directly."
+
+He got up.
+
+"Good-bye. I'll ring you up to-morrow. It's some little consolation for
+being an idle man to have leisure to fulfil your commands."
+
+She answered that he was very good and she was very pleased with him,
+and he went away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+RUPERT AT RUMPELMEYER'S
+
+
+At a quarter to four precisely, in a heavy shower of rain, Madeline
+sprang out of a taxicab in St. James's Street, and tripped into
+Rumpelmeyer's. As it was pouring lavishly and she had no umbrella, she
+hastily and enthusiastically overpaid the cabman, with a feeling of
+superstition that it might bring her luck; besides, a few drops of rain,
+she reflected, would ruin her smart new hat if she waited for change. It
+was a very small hat, over her eyes, decorated with a very high feather,
+in the form of a lightning-conductor. She was charmingly dressed in a
+way that made her look very tall, slim and elegant. Her rather long,
+sweet face was paler than usual, her sincere brown eyes brighter. She
+had come to have tea with Rupert.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From the back room, waiting for her, rose the worshipped hero. He was,
+as she had described him, very much like a Vandyke picture. He had
+broad shoulders, and a thin waist, a pointed brown beard, regular
+features, very large deep blue eyes, and an absurdly small mouth with
+dazzling white teeth. If he was almost too well dressed--so well that
+one turned round to look at his clothes--his distinguished manners and
+_grand seigneur_ air carried it off. One saw it was not the
+over-dressing of the _nouveau riche_, but the rather old-world dandyism
+of a past generation. This was the odder as the year was 1913, and he
+was exactly thirty. He always wore a buttonhole--to-day it was made of
+violets to match his violet socks--and invariably carried a black ebony
+stick, with an ivory handle.
+
+With a quiet smile on his small mouth, he greeted and calmed the
+agitated Madeline.
+
+She dropped her bag on the floor before she sat down, and when Rupert
+picked it up for her she dropped it again on a plate of cream cakes. He
+then took it and moved it to his side of the table.
+
+"I thought," he said smoothly, in a rather low, soothing voice, "that
+you'd like these cakes better than toast."
+
+She eagerly assured him that he was right, though it happened to be
+quite untrue.
+
+"And China tea, of _course_?"
+
+"Oh, of _course_!" She disliked it particularly.
+
+"And now, tell me, how has life been treating you?" he asked, as he
+looked first at her, and then with more eager interest at his pointed
+polished finger-nails.
+
+Before she could answer, he went on:
+
+"And that book on architecture that I sent you--tell me, have you read
+it?"
+
+"Every word."
+
+This was perfectly true; she could have passed an examination in it.
+
+"That's delightful. Then, now that you know something about it, I should
+like very much to take you to Westminster Abbey or St. Paul's, or to see
+one of those really beautiful old cathedrals. ... We must plan it out."
+
+"Oh, please do. I revel in old things," she said, thinking the remark
+would please him.
+
+He arranged his buttonhole of Parma violets, then looked up at her,
+smiling.
+
+"Do you mean that at your age you really appreciate the past?"
+
+"Indeed, I do."
+
+"But you mustn't live for it, you know--not over-value it. You must
+never forget that, after all, the great charm of the past is that it is
+over. One must live for the hour, for the moment. ... You'll remember
+that, won't you?"
+
+"Oh yes, I _do_," she said gratefully, taking a bite of cream cake.
+
+"What they call Futurism (I hope you understand) is absolute rubbish and
+inconsistent nonsense. For this reason. It's impossible to enjoy the
+present or the future if you eliminate the past entirely, as the
+so-called Futurists wish to do. Destruction of old associations and
+treasures would ruin one's sense of proportion; it's worse than living
+in the prehistoric. Besides, at least we know what _has_ happened, and
+what _is_ happening, but we can't possibly know what is _going_ to be,
+what the future holds for us; so what's the point of thinking only of
+that? Why should we live only for posterity, when, as the old joke says,
+posterity has done nothing for us!"
+
+"Well, the truth is _I_ always feel nothing matters except now," said
+Madeline candidly.
+
+He laughed. "And, in a way, you're right; it's all we're quite sure of."
+
+"Yes, I'm afraid it is."
+
+"By the way," he said, dropping his instructive manner, "can you tell me
+where you get your hats? Do you mind?"
+
+"Oh yes, of course I can; at several places. This one came from----" She
+hesitated a moment.
+
+"Paquin?" he asked, in a low, mysterious voice.
+
+"Selfridge," she replied.
+
+"Oh, I didn't know you were a Selfridgette! But, please forgive my
+asking, won't you? Someone who didn't seem to know ... I mean, a friend
+of mine. ... Oh, well, I know you don't mind telling me."
+
+He looked hard at her hat, could find no fault with it. Evidently its
+value was not diminished in his eyes. He was rather gratified that it
+did not come from some impossibly costly place. This pleased her; it was
+a good sign. Satisfaction at a moderate indication of economy suggested
+serious intentions.
+
+"It suits you very well," he went on, in his kind, approving way. "Now,
+will you give me another cup of tea?"
+
+She poured it out rather shakily.
+
+"No sugar, please."
+
+"Oh!" She had already nervously dropped in about three lumps.
+
+"Oh well, never mind. ... Yes, you're looking charming, Madeline--it's
+absurd calling you Miss Irwin after knowing each other so long, isn't
+it?"
+
+She was so delighted that she almost thanked him for calling her by her
+Christian name.
+
+"Do you know, Madeline," he went on, "that, at times, you're almost a
+beauty."
+
+She opened her mouth with surprise.
+
+"_Almost._ You were one evening--I forget which evening--you had
+something gold in your hair, and you were quite Byzantine. And then,
+again, a few days after I saw you, and--er--oh well, anyhow--you always
+look nice."
+
+"I suppose you mean," she murmured, feeling shy at talking so much of
+herself, "that most girls look best in the evening."
+
+"There I venture to differ from you entirely. All girls, all women, look
+their best in the afternoon. The hat is everything. Evening dress is the
+most trying and unbecoming thing in the world; only the most perfect
+beauties, who are also very young and fresh, can stand it. The most
+becoming thing for a woman is either _neglige_, or a hat. You,
+particularly, Madeline, look your best in the afternoon."
+
+"I wish then that I lived in that land where it is always afternoon!"
+she said, laughing.
+
+He gave his superior little smile. "The Lotus Eaters? Good. I didn't
+know you cared for Tennyson."
+
+"I don't," she answered hastily, anxious to please.
+
+He raised his eyebrows. "Then you should. Have you a favourite poet,
+Madeline?"
+
+"Oh yes, of course--Swinburne."
+
+She thought this a perfectly safe thing to say.
+
+"Strong meat for babes," he of course replied, and then began to murmur
+to himself: "_For a day and a night love sang to us, played with us._
+You think that beautiful, Madeline?"
+
+"Oh yes. How beautifully you say it!"
+
+He laughed. "Quoting poetry at Rumpelmeyer's! Well, perhaps no place is
+quite prosaic where ..."
+
+She looked up.
+
+He took another tea-cake.
+
+... "Where there's anyone so interested, so intelligent as yourself."
+
+He had returned to the indulgent, encouraging schoolmaster's tone.
+
+"Do you know In the Orchard?" he went on, and murmured: "_Ah God, ah
+God! that day should be so soon!_ Well! May I smoke a cigarette?"
+
+"Oh, of _course_."
+
+"Oh ... Madeline!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Denison?"
+
+"Who is Nigel Hillier?"
+
+"Oh, don't you know him?"
+
+"Of course I know him; we belong to the same club, and that sort of
+thing, but that doesn't tell me who he is."
+
+She was wondering what Rupert meant exactly by who, but supposed he was
+speaking socially, so she said hesitatingly:
+
+"Well, Nigel Hillier ... he married that Miss----"
+
+He interrupted her, putting up his hand rather like a policeman in the
+traffic. "I know all about his marriage, my dear friend. I didn't ask
+you whom he married. Who _is_ he?"
+
+"Bertha and Percy have known him all their lives--at least all Bertha's
+life."
+
+"Oh yes. Then he's a friend of Percy Kellynch? But that doesn't tell me
+what I want to know. WHO is he?"
+
+With a flash of inspiration she said:
+
+"Oh yes! Oh, he's a _nephew_ of Lord Wantage. He has no father and
+mother, I believe. He and his brother Charlie----"
+
+"Ah yes, yes. It comes back to me now--I remember which Hilliers they
+are. Well, Hillier has asked me to dine with him and go to the Russian
+Ballet. Rather nice of him. I'm going, and--do you know why I accepted,
+Madeline?"
+
+"You like the Russian Ballet."
+
+"I was told that Mrs. Kellynch and _you_ were to be of the party."
+
+"I'm glad you're going," she answered. "Bertha's so awfully kind----"
+She stopped suddenly, as if she had made a _gaffe_.
+
+He smiled. "Really? And what has Bertha's kindness to do with it?"
+
+"Oh, nothing. I mean she always takes me out wherever she can; she's so
+good-natured."
+
+"She strikes me as being a very beautiful and brilliant person," said
+Rupert coldly. "Very wonderful--very delightful. ... It appears that
+Mrs. Hillier has influenza."
+
+"Oh yes," said Madeline quickly--too quickly.
+
+"You knew it? No; you thought that she probably _would_ have," said he,
+laughing, as he struck a match. Then he leant back, smoking, with that
+slow, subtle smile about nothing in particular that had a peculiar,
+hypnotic effect upon Madeline.
+
+She adored him more and more every moment. She knew she was never at her
+best in his company; he made her nervous, shy, and schoolgirlish, and so
+modest that she seemed to be longing to ooze away, to eliminate herself
+altogether. Then he said:
+
+"Well, Madeline, it wouldn't be nice if I kept you too long away from
+your mother--she won't trust me with you again."
+
+She jumped up.
+
+"Have I been too long?"
+
+"Nonsense, child," he said. "But still----" With one look at the clock
+he rather hurriedly gave her her belongings.
+
+"I'm going to put you into a nice taxi, and send you home. We shall meet
+at Hillier's dinner, that will be nice, and we shall see the wonderful
+ballet together."
+
+She murmured that it would be lovely.
+
+"I should like to drive you home," he said rather half-heartedly, as
+they stood at the door in the rain; "in fact, I should insist upon doing
+so ..."
+
+"Oh no!"
+
+... "But I have an appointment with a friend I'm expecting to call for
+me here. Au revoir, then!"
+
+She went away happy, disturbed, anxious and delighted, as she always was
+when she had seen him. She ran straight to her dressing-table, took off
+her hat, put something gold in her hair and tried to look Byzantine.
+
+He returned to the little table. He had it cleared, and ordered fresh
+tea and cakes. Then he took out his watch.
+
+In about twenty minutes, during which he grew rather nervous and
+impatient, he rose and went to the door again to greet another guest,
+who had been invited to tea an hour and a half later than Madeline.
+
+She also was a young girl, good-looking, very dark and rather inclined
+to fullness in face and figure. When I say that she had handsome
+regular aquiline features, two thick curtains of black hair drawn over
+her ears, from which depended long ear-rings of imitation coral, it
+seems almost unnecessary to add (for this type of girl always dresses in
+the same way) that she wore a flat violet felt hat, the back of which
+touched her shoulders, a particularly tight dark blue serge coat and
+skirt, a very low collar, and lisle thread stockings which showed above
+low shiny shoes with white spats. In her hands she held a pair of new
+white gloves, unworn.
+
+She bounced in with a good deal of _aplomb_, and, without apologising
+for her lateness, began to chatter a little louder than most of the
+people present, and with great confidence.
+
+"No, not China tea, thanks. I prefer Indian. Oh, not cream cakes; I hate
+them. Can't I have hot tea-cakes? Thanks. I've no idea what the time is.
+I've been to Mimsie's studio. She would insist on doing a drawing of me,
+and I'm sitting to her"--she turned her face a little on one side--"like
+this, you know."
+
+"Is it like you, Miss Chivvey?"
+
+"Oh, good gracious, I hope not! At least I hope I'm not like _it_! I
+don't want to have a pretty picture, I'm sure. But Mimsie's awfully
+clever. It's sure to be all right. Do you know her? I must take you to
+her studio one day."
+
+"Thanks immensely," said Rupert Denison, a little coolly. "But--it may
+seem odd to you, but I haven't the slightest desire to increase my
+acquaintance at my age. In fact, do you know, I think I know quite
+enough people--in every set," he added.
+
+As he poured out some milk, she jumped and gave a little shriek.
+
+"Oh, _don't_ do that. I never take milk. What a bad memory you've got!
+Funny place this, isn't it?" She was looking round. "I don't think I've
+ever been here before."
+
+"Don't you like the plan of it?" he said, looking round at the walls and
+ceiling. "It may not be perfect, but really, for London, it isn't bad.
+It seems to me that anyone can see that it was designed by a gentleman."
+
+"You mean anyone can see it's not designed by an architect?" she asked,
+with a laugh so loud that he raised a finger.
+
+He then carefully introduced the subject of hats and advised her to go,
+for millinery, to Selfridge. They discussed it at length, and it was
+settled by his offering her a hat as a birthday present. She accepted,
+of course, with a loud laugh.
+
+Rupert, with his mania for educating and improving young people, had
+begun, about a fortnight ago, trying to polish Miss Chivvey. But he had
+his doubts as to its being possible; and he was, all the same, beginning
+to be a little carried away. She was sometimes (he owned) amusing; and
+it was unusual for him to be laughed at. How differently Madeline
+regarded him!
+
+However, he drove Moona home to Camden Hill and promised to meet her and
+help her to choose a hat.
+
+"But I sha'n't let you interfere too much. What do men know of
+millinery?" she asked contemptuously.
+
+"I am sure I know what would suit you," he replied. "You see, you're
+very vivid, and very much alive; you stand out, so you really want, if I
+may say so, attenuating, subduing, shading."
+
+"Perhaps you would like me to put my head in a bag?"
+
+"No one would regret that more than I should."
+
+"I foresee we're going to quarrel about this hat," she answered. "Now,
+Mr. Denison, do let me explain to you, I don't want anything _smart_. I
+don't want to look like _Paris Fashions_."
+
+"No? What do you want to look like?"
+
+"Why, artistic, of course! What a blighter you are!"
+
+Rupert winced at this vague accusation. They were nearly at her house
+and he put his hand on hers in a way that was rather controlling than
+caressing.
+
+"Let me have one little pleasure. Let me choose your hat myself," he
+said. He was terrified at the idea of what she might come out in on
+artistic grounds. Then she would tell all her friends it was a present
+from him! She had no sort of reticence.
+
+"Well, I suppose you must have your own way. Do you really know anything
+about it?" she asked doubtfully.
+
+"Rather. Everything!"
+
+They arrived. She jumped out.
+
+"Well, I'll ring you up and tell you when I can go there and meet you.
+Good-bye! You _are_ a nut!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+A HAPPY HOME
+
+
+The first six months after his marriage it used to give Nigel a thrill
+of gratification and vanity to go home to his house, one of the finest
+in Grosvenor Street, and splendidly kept up. Then he had suddenly grown
+horribly sick of it, longed for freedom in a garret, and now he
+associated it with no thrill of pride or pleasure, but with boredom,
+depression, quarrels and lack of liberty. Liberty! Ah! That was it; that
+was what he felt more than anything else. He had married for money
+chiefly to _get_ liberty. One was a slave, always in debt--but it was
+much worse now. The master of the house lost all his vitality, gaiety
+and air of command the moment he came into the hall.
+
+"Where's Mrs. Hillier?"
+
+"Mrs. Hillier is in the boudoir, sir."
+
+The boudoir was a little pink and blue Louis Seize room on the ground
+floor, opposite the dining-room. From the window Mary could watch for
+Nigel. That was what she always did. She hardly ever did anything else.
+Few women were so independent of such aids to idleness as light
+literature (how heavy it generally is!), newspapers, needlework or a
+piano. Few people indeed had such a concentrated interest in one
+subject. She was sitting in an arm-chair, with folded hands, looking out
+of the window. It was a point of vantage, whence she could see Nigel
+arrive more quickly than from anywhere else.
+
+As soon as he caught the first glimpse of her at the window it began to
+get on his nerves. It was maddening to be waited for. ...
+
+"You're five minutes late," she said abruptly, as he came in. She always
+spoke abruptly, even when she wanted to be most amiable. He was
+determined not to be bad-tempered, and smiled good-naturedly.
+
+"Am I? So sorry." He was very quick and rapid in every word and
+movement, but soft and suave--never blunt, as she was.
+
+"Where have you been?"
+
+"I went to look at those pictures in Bond Street," he replied, without a
+moment's hesitation.
+
+He had come straight from seeing Bertha--on the subject of Madeline and
+Rupert--but he never thought of telling her that.
+
+"Oh! Why didn't you take _me_?"
+
+"I really don't know. I didn't think of it, I suppose. We'll go another
+day."
+
+He sat down opposite her and began to smoke a cigarette, having
+permission always. She sat staring at him with clasped hands and eager
+eyes.
+
+Bertha's description of her as having flat red hair, a receding chin and
+long ear-rings was impressionistically accurate. It was what one noticed
+most. Mrs. Hillier was plain, and not at all pleasant-looking, though
+she had a pretty figure, looked young, and might have been made
+something of if she had had charm. There was something eager, sharp and
+yet depressed about her, that might well be irritating.
+
+She got up and came and stood next to Nigel; playing with his tie, a
+little trick which nearly drove him mad, but he was determined to hide
+it. When he couldn't bear it any longer he said: "That will do, dear."
+
+She moved away.
+
+"How do you mean 'that will do'?"
+
+"Nothing; only don't fidget."
+
+"You're nervous, Nigel. You are always telling me not to fidget."
+
+"Am I? Sorry. Where are the children?"
+
+"Never mind the children for a minute. They're out with Mademoiselle."
+
+"Seen much of them to-day?"
+
+"They came in to lunch. No, I have _not_, as a matter of fact. Do you
+expect me to spend my whole time with children of eight and nine?"
+
+He didn't answer, but it was exactly what he really did expect, and
+would have thought perfectly natural and suitable.
+
+"Some women," continued Mary, "seem to care a great deal more for their
+children than they do for their husbands. I'm _not_ like that--I don't
+pretend to be."
+
+Nigel already knew this, to his great regret.
+
+"I care more for you than I do for the children," she repeated.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What do you mean by 'Yes'?"
+
+"I was assenting: that's all. I meant--that you've told me all this
+before, my dear. Haven't you?"
+
+"Do you object? Do you _mind_ my caring more for you than for the
+children?"
+
+"If I object to anything it's only to your repeating yourself. I
+mean--we've had all this; haven't we?"
+
+"Nigel, are you trying to quarrel with me for loving you better than the
+children?"
+
+Nigel turned pale with irritation but controlled himself and stood up
+and looked out of the window.
+
+"Not in the least. It's most flattering. I only don't want to be told it
+every time I see you. ... I mean that of course I should think it
+perfectly natural if you were fond of the children too."
+
+"I _am_ fond of them," she answered, "but they are not everything to me.
+They don't fill up my whole time and all my thoughts. They won't do
+instead of you."
+
+"No one suggested that, I think. Have you been for a drive to-day?"
+
+"No--I haven't."
+
+"What a funny woman you are, Mary! You might as well not have a motor
+for all the use you make of it."
+
+"I had nowhere to go."
+
+He looked at some invitation cards on the mantelpiece. "Oh, my dear,
+that's absolute nonsense. You mean you don't care to go anywhere. It
+_is_ extraordinary, how you drop people, Mary! When we first came to
+this house we had a lot of parties and things. Now you never seem to
+care for them."
+
+"It's quite true," she answered. "We did have parties and things. They
+made me miserable. I hated them."
+
+"Rather odd; aren't you?"
+
+"I hated them and loathed them," she continued. "For it only meant there
+were crowds of women who tried to flirt with you."
+
+"That's an _idee fixe_ of yours, my dear. Pure fancy, you know."
+
+"Well; all I know is I hated to see you talking to the women who came
+here. I tell you, quite frankly, _that's_ the reason why I've given up
+accepting invitations and giving them. Of course, if you _insist_, I
+will. I would do anything you told me."
+
+"Oh, good God, no! Let's cut out the parties, then. Don't have them for
+_me_! I thought it would be fun for you. ... What _do_ you do all day,
+Mary, if I may ask? You never seem to have any shopping--or hobbies--or
+anything that other women have to do."
+
+"I do the housekeeping in the morning," she said; "I see cook and look
+after everything to make things as _you_ like."
+
+"And I'm sure you do it very well indeed. But it doesn't take long; and
+after that----?"
+
+"I sit in that chair looking out of the window for you."
+
+He bit his lip impatiently, trying not to be irritable.
+
+"It's very nice of you, Mary, I'm sure. But I do wish you wouldn't!"
+
+"Why not? Don't you _like_ me to be waiting for you?"
+
+"No--I don't. I should like to think you were enjoying yourself; having
+a good time."
+
+"Well, I shouldn't do it if you took me out with you always."
+
+"My dear, I'm always delighted to take you with me, but I can't take you
+everywhere."
+
+"Where can't you take me?"
+
+"Well--to the club!" He smiled, and took up a newspaper.
+
+"I suppose you must go to your club sometimes," she said rather
+grudgingly. "But tell me, Nigel, would you like us to go in more for
+society again as we used at first?"
+
+He thought a moment. There were more quarrels when they saw more
+people--in fact, the fewer people they met the fewer subjects arose for
+scenes.
+
+"Well," he said, "suppose you give just one party this year. Just to
+'keep our circle together,' as they say--then we can stop it again, if
+you like."
+
+"What sort of party?"
+
+"Any sort. Musical, if you like."
+
+"Oh! that means having horrid singers and players, and performers! I
+don't like that set, Nigel."
+
+"All right. Let's give a dance. We've got a splendid floor."
+
+"A _dance_? Oh no. I don't dance; and I couldn't bear to see you dancing
+with anyone."
+
+"This is all very flattering, my dear, but you know you're really rather
+absurd. Girls wouldn't be fighting to dance with an old married man like
+me. Altogether,--the way you regard me,--the way you imagine I'm the
+marked-down prey of every woman you know,--would be too comical if it
+wasn't so pathetic."
+
+"Oh, really? So you say! You're thirty-five;--you're better-looking than
+ever."
+
+"Thanks. It's very kind of you to think so." He laughed rather
+contemptuously. "What a fatuous idiot I should be if I believed you.
+But--to go back to what we were talking about--it really is in a way
+rather a pity you're gradually dropping everybody like that. It seems to
+me that one should either have a cosy, clever, interesting little set of
+amusing and really intimate _friends_; or else, a large circle of
+acquaintances; or both. I'm not speaking of parties, for me. No man of
+course cares about all that sort of rot; it's only for you; women like
+going out as a rule."
+
+"I didn't care much about the sort of society you introduced me to when
+we first married. I didn't like any of them much."
+
+"What's the matter with them?" he asked. He knew she had always felt
+morbidly and bitterly out of it because she mistakenly believed that
+everybody was interested in the fact that her grandfather had made a
+fortune in treacle, and that her husband was Lord Wantage's nephew. As a
+matter of fact, no one who came to the house cared in the slightest
+degree about either of these circumstances (even if they knew them) but
+merely wished candidly to enjoy themselves in a large, jolly, hospitable
+house, owned by a very attractive man with a large number of amusing
+friends and, apparently, a harmless and good-natured little wife. Mary
+detested and soon put a stop to intimate or Bohemian friends who sat up
+all night smoking, talking art or literature, or being musical; and she
+managed rapidly to reduce their circle to a much smaller one at a much
+greater distance. She had not a single intimate friend. With women she
+only exchanged cards. "What's wrong with them all?" Nigel repeated, for
+he was beginning to lose patience.
+
+"Oh! their manners are all right. If you really want to know what I
+think of the whole set--I mean that sort of half-clever, half-smart set
+you were in--the barristers and writers, artists, sporting and gambling
+men, and women mad on music and the theatre--well, it is that the men
+are silly and frivolous, and the women horrid and--and _fast_! Some are
+cold and just as hard as nails, others are positively _wicked_! I admit
+most of the men have nice manners and the women are not stupid. They all
+dress well."
+
+Nigel was silent a moment.
+
+"Well, after all, if you don't like them, why should you see them?" he
+said, good-naturedly enough. He did not feel inclined to defend all his
+acquaintances. "But may I ask, do you consider that this set, as you
+call it, lead a _useless_ life?"
+
+"Yes; of course I do."
+
+"Oh! Good. That's all I wanted to know."
+
+"I see what you mean quite well," she said, walking up and down the
+room. "You think _I_ lead a useless life--that I'm not accomplished or
+literary or even domestic, or social. You think I lead an empty life
+with all my money."
+
+"Well, why shouldn't you, if you like it? But I wish you enjoyed it
+yourself more, that's the point."
+
+"I can never enjoy myself--if you want to know, Nigel--except when I'm
+with you; and even then I'm often not happy, because I think you don't
+care to be with me."
+
+"Oh, Mary! really! How awful you are! What rot all this is! I can't say
+more than that you can do whatever you like from morning to night, and
+that I don't wish to interfere with you in any possible way."
+
+"But I should like you to be _with_ me more."
+
+He restrained the obvious retort (that she didn't make herself
+agreeable).
+
+"Well, I _am_ with you." He humoured her gently.
+
+"Yes--at this moment."
+
+"Aren't we going to dine together?"
+
+"Yes, we are. But about an hour afterwards I know you'll find some sort
+of excuse either to go out, or to go into the library and read. Why
+can't you read while I'm looking at you? Why not?"
+
+"Don't be always looking forward, meeting troubles half way," he said
+jokingly. "Perhaps I sha'n't read." Then, after a moment's pause:
+"Excuse my saying so, my dear, but if _you_ sometimes read a book, or
+the papers, or saw more people, you would have more to tell me when we
+did meet, wouldn't you?"
+
+"It doesn't matter about that. You can tell me what you've been reading
+or seeing. Who did you see at the picture gallery? Was Mrs. Kellynch
+there?"
+
+"Look here"--he was looking at the paper--"would you like to go to the
+opera after dinner? Let's go one of these days soon."
+
+"No; I shouldn't like it at all."
+
+He stared at her in surprise.
+
+"Why not, pray? I thought you enjoyed it the other night?"
+
+"_You_ enjoyed it," she replied.
+
+"I thought you seemed rather pleased with yourself when we went out,
+with all your furs and tiaras and things. You looked very smart," he
+said pleasantly.
+
+"Well, I tell you I hated it, Nigel."
+
+"And why?"
+
+Mary was at least candid, and she spoke bluntly.
+
+"Because we met Mrs. Kellynch; and you talked to her and seemed pleased
+to see her."
+
+"Oh, good heavens! I can hardly cut dead all the women I ever knew
+before we were married."
+
+"Do you think her pretty?" said Mary.
+
+"Yes, of course I do; and so does everyone. She is pretty. It's a
+well-known fact. But what does it matter? It's of no interest to me."
+
+"Are you sure it isn't? Didn't you tell me you were almost engaged
+once?"
+
+"Oh, _do_ let's drop the prehistoric," he entreated, appearing bored.
+"Never mind about ancient history now. She's married and seems very
+happy." (He stopped himself in time from saying like us.) "Kellynch is a
+very good sort."
+
+"Is he? Do you envy him?"
+
+"Mary, really, don't be absurd. Let me tell you that there's not one man
+in a hundred who could stand ..." and he moved a step farther away.
+
+"Could stand what?" She came nearer to him. "My caring for you so much?"
+
+Half-a-minute passed in something near torture, as she played with his
+tie again, and he controlled himself and spoke with a determinedly kind
+smile.
+
+"Go along and dress for dinner," he said.
+
+"What shall I wear?"
+
+"Oh! Your pretty yellow teagown," he answered.
+
+She could not go out in that, he was reflecting, and if he suddenly
+wanted to go for a walk----
+
+"Very well, Nigel. Oh, dear Nigel! I don't mean to be disagreeable."
+
+"I'm sure you don't," he answered, "let's leave it at that, my dear."
+
+"All right," she said smiling, and went away, with a rather coquettish
+kiss of the hand to him.
+
+He opened the door and shut it after her, with gallant attention. Then
+he threw up his arms with a despairing gesture.
+
+"My God! What a woman! Why--why was I such a fool? ... How much longer
+_can_ I bear it?"
+
+The Hilliers' relatives and intimate friends often said cheerfully about
+them: "Mary is very fond of Nigel, but she rather gets on his nerves."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+No one seemed yet to have discovered that there was a large double
+tragedy in that simple, commonplace sentence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+FUTURISM
+
+
+It had long been Nigel's dream, since he had practically given up all
+hope of calm and peaceful happiness at home, to have, at least, a secret
+sorrow that everyone knew of and sympathised with. And certain people
+did feel for him, understanding the great worry of his wife's morbid
+jealousy. But the general public thought him extremely fortunate to have
+married a woman--or rather a young girl--whose enormous wealth was only
+equalled by her extraordinary devotion. Yet from the one person who
+mattered, the look of tacit sympathy was denied him. How it would have
+soothed him and made him absolutely happy! And Bertha was the only human
+being who must never be allowed to know of his domestic troubles. She
+was extremely proud, and it would have caused her great anger and pain
+to think that after throwing her over (as he really had, for worldly
+advantages), he should then want to come back, complain ungratefully of
+the benefactress he had chosen and philander and amuse himself again. So
+he had never referred to his unhappy life. His plan was deeper than
+that. It was to appear merely the amusing friend, until by some chance,
+he should feel his way to be more secure; to be, in fact, a kind of tame
+cat, a _camarade_, useful, and intellectually sympathetic, unselfishly
+devoted--until, perhaps, the time might come when she might find she
+could not do without him. His calculations happened to be completely
+wrong, but that, of course, he could not know. Like all collectors,
+whether of women or of any other works of art or nature, although a
+connoisseur, he did not quite recognise the exceptional when he met
+it--his rules of life were too general. And his love for Bertha--what
+word can one use but the word-of-all-work, love, which means so many
+variations and shades, and complications of passion, sentiment, vanity
+and attraction?--his love had greatly increased, was growing stronger:
+sometimes he wondered whether it was the mere contradictory, defiant
+obstinacy of the discouraged admirer; and, certainly, there was in his
+devotion a strong infusion of a longing to score off his tyrannising
+wife and the fortunate, amiable Percy. Nigel's jealousy of Percy--and
+not of Percy only, but in a less degree of most men Bertha knew--was not
+very far behind his wife's jealousy of him. A morbid propensity that
+causes great suffering in domestic life is often curiously infectious to
+the very person for whom it creates most suffering. Nigel sometimes
+found himself positively imitating Mary in many little ways; watching,
+and listening and asking indirect questions to find things out: if he
+had dared he would have made Bertha a violent scene every time her
+husband came into the house! He tried to hide it and had made Percy like
+him. But Bertha could see perfectly well the tinge of jealousy for every
+other friend of hers, and an inclination to crab and run down and sit
+out, especially, any smart young man. This neither amused nor annoyed
+her. She did not think about it.
+
+Nigel really felt, besides, that most cruel of all remorse--_selfish_
+remorse, that he had cheated himself in having thrown over love for
+money. For his was not, after all, a mere smug, second-rate nature which
+gold, and what it meant, in however great quantities, could really ever
+satisfy. Putting aside the fact that his wife irritated him nearly to
+madness, even if he had been allowed to live alone, and perfectly
+free,--wealth and its gratifications would never have made him happy.
+He had mistaken himself in a passing fit of despair and cupidity, aided
+by the torturing agonies of being deeply in debt all round, and the
+ghastly fear of a social smash.
+
+He had a longing to feel at ease; he had a love of pleasure, too, of
+freedom, of idleness; and the sort of talent that consists in
+brilliantly describing what one could do and what one would like to do:
+in sketching schemes, verbally--literary, financial, artistic, no matter
+what--with so much charm, such aplomb that everyone believed in him, and
+enjoyed to hear his projects, but he had not either the genius that
+compels its owner to work nor the steadiness, the determination of
+character that makes a man a successful drudge, who gets there in the
+end.
+
+Nigel is being rather severely analysed. But let it be understood that
+with it all, besides having very great charm of look and manner, wit and
+high spirits, in certain ways he was quite a good fellow: he had no
+sneers for the more fortunate, no envy, nothing petty: he was
+warm-hearted, generous even--when it did not cross some desire of his;
+lavish with money, both on himself and on anyone who aided his pleasure,
+and quite kind and tender-hearted in that he couldn't bear to see
+anyone suffer--even Mary, with whom, as a matter of fact, he was very
+weak.
+
+The saint thinks only of the claims of others: the criminal solely of
+his own. Between these extremes, there are, obviously, countless shades.
+Unfortunately, Nigel had this in common with the worst; that when he
+really wanted anything, everything had to go to the wall: all rights of
+others, principles and pity were forgotten, everything was thrown
+over--everyone pushed out of the way. He became unscrupulous. So when he
+had required money he threw over his first love who, he knew, adored
+him; now when he found out the mistake and was seriously in love with
+Bertha, he would have thrown over anything on earth to get her, and
+admired himself for doing it. He thought himself now noble-spirited and
+sporting. He would have run away with her at any moment, even if he
+thought they would have two or three hundred a year to live on, or
+nothing at all. Not only that, he would have been devoted to her and
+worshipped her and never reproached her--and been faithful to her
+too--until he fell in love with someone else, which might, or might not
+have happened.
+
+Often he wondered why he cared so much more for Bertha now that she was
+twenty-eight than when she was eighteen. Perhaps she had really
+increased in charm: certainly she had in magnetism and in knowledge of
+the world, and she was just as attractive, a sweet little creature whom
+one wanted to protect and yet whom, in a way, one could lean on and rely
+on, too. She was so subtle, so strangely wise and sensible--she seemed
+to know everything while having the naive, unconscious air of a person
+who knows next to nothing. And all these gifts she used--for what? She
+made Percy happy, she was charming and kind, clear-sighted, indulgent
+(if a little cynical), and always amusing; full of dash and spirit, and
+yet with the most feminine softness, and above all that invaluable
+instinct, always, for doing and saying the right thing ... and (he knew
+instinctively) a genius for love. ...
+
+Yes, he thought, she was an extraordinary woman! There was nobody
+like her: in his opinion she was thrown away on Percy. But _she_
+did not think so, and he envied, hated the husband, with an absurd
+bitterness--envied him for several reasons, but chiefly because Nigel
+had now developed what had been in abeyance at the time of their
+youthful engagement--that real sensuous discrimination, which has
+comparatively little to do with taste for beauty, that power of
+weighing amorous values, given only to the authentic Sybarite.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the day arranged for the Russian Ballet party, Nigel made an excuse
+for seeing Bertha to arrange tactics with regard to Rupert and Madeline.
+She told him she was expecting the Futurist painter, the Italian,
+Semolini, but she received him first.
+
+"About Rupert, now," said Nigel. "Isn't it odd?--I always think of
+Rupert with a rapier concealed somewhere about his person. Ruperts and
+rapiers are inseparably associated in my mind. Well--shall I, after
+supper, drive back with Rupert and praise up Miss Irwin--or not?"
+
+"Yes, if you think it is a good thing."
+
+"_If_ I think it's a good thing! Nothing in the world has such a good
+effect on a man as the admiration of another man for the girl he
+admires."
+
+"But don't do too much digging in the ribs--don't overdo it. Rupert,
+though he doesn't carry a rapier, isn't quite a modern cynical man, and
+with all his affectations I believe he has a very sweet nature. He'll be
+good to Madeline--I want her to be happy."
+
+"Well, at any rate, if she likes him she may as well have her fling at
+him," said Nigel carelessly.
+
+Bertha looked annoyed.
+
+"That isn't the point only--silly! If she liked _you_ ever so much and
+you were free, do you suppose I would take her side--help her?"
+
+"I hope not," said Nigel insinuatingly, suddenly changing his seat to
+one close to Bertha.
+
+She looked calmly away, as if bored.
+
+He saw it was the wrong tone and stood up, with his back to the
+mantelpiece, looking at her.
+
+"I like your frock, Bertha."
+
+She looked down at it.
+
+"You have an extraordinary air of not knowing what you have got on. I
+never saw a woman look so unconscious of her dress. There's a good deal
+of the art that conceals art about it, I fancy. Your clothes are
+attractive--in an impressionist way!"
+
+"The only thing I think of about my dresses, is that they should make
+people admire me--not my dressmaker," said Bertha candidly. "I don't
+care for much variety, and I leave real smartness to Madeline and the
+other tall, slim girls. My figure is so wrong! How dare I be short and
+tiny, and yet not thin, nowadays?"
+
+"You're exquisite--at least in my opinion. I've never been an admirer of
+the lamp-post as the type of a woman's figure."
+
+She looked bored again. "Oh, please don't! I don't care what you
+like--so long as you like Mary, who was very graceful and _chic_, I
+thought, the other night at the opera."
+
+It was Nigel's turn to look bored.
+
+"Yes. ... What is this chap like, this Semolini man?"
+
+"He's not like anything. He's a nice little thing."
+
+"Signor Semolini," announced the servant.
+
+A very small, very brown young man came in, clean-shaven, with large
+bright blue eyes, black hair, and a single eyeglass with a black ribbon.
+
+They greeted him cordially, convinced him that he was welcome, made him
+feel at home, gave him tea. It was his first visit, but no one was ever
+shy long with Bertha. He soon began chattering very volubly in a sort of
+English, which, if not exactly broken, was decidedly cracked.
+
+"I like those things of yours--at the gallery, I mean," said Nigel
+patronisingly. He was always patronising to all artists, even when he
+didn't know them, as in this case, to be cranks. "I think they're
+top-hole; simply _awfully_ good, I thought. I didn't quite understand
+them, though, I admit."
+
+"But you saw ze idea?"
+
+"What idea?"
+
+"Why, the simultaneity of the plastic states of mind in the art? That is
+our intoxicating object, you know."
+
+"Oh, that! Ah, yes--yes, quite so. I thought it was that." Nigel looked
+knowing, and shook his head wisely.
+
+Under this treatment the young Italian became very animated.
+
+"You were right! You see, it is ze expansion of coloured forms in space,
+combined with the co-penetration of plastic masses which forms what we
+call futurism."
+
+"Oh yes, of course," said Nigel. "It would be. I mean to
+say--well!--almost anyone would guess that, wouldn't they?"
+
+Semolini turned to Bertha, talking more and more quickly, and
+gesticulating with a little piece of bread and butter in his right hand.
+"It is ze entire liberation from the laws of logical perspective that
+makes movement--the Orphic cubism--if you will allow me to say so!"
+
+"Oh, certainly," smiled Bertha. "_Do_ say so!"
+
+"Orphic cubism! I say! Isn't that a bit strong before a lady?" murmured
+Nigel.
+
+Semolini laughed heartily without understanding a word, and continued to
+address himself to Bertha, whose eyes looked sympathetic. "It is
+painting, pure painting--painting new masses with elements borrowed
+chiefly from the reality of mental vision!" cried the artist.
+
+"Funny! Just what I was going to say!" said Nigel.
+
+Bertha contented herself with encouraging smiles.
+
+The young Italian was due to lecture on his views, and had to leave. At
+least three appointments were made with him, none of which Nigel had the
+slightest intention of keeping--to "go into the matter more
+thoroughly"--then Semolini vanished, charmed with his reception.
+
+"Good heavens! will someone take me away and serve me up on a cold
+plate?" said Nigel, directly he had gone. "Look here, Bertha, is the
+chap off his head, a fraud, or serious?"
+
+"Awfully serious. Are you going to see him to look into the matter?"
+
+"I _think_ not," said Nigel, "at least I don't want to see his pictures,
+face to face, until I've insured my life. I must think of my widow and
+the children."
+
+Here Nigel's young brother, Charlie, arrived. He was a slimmer, younger,
+but less good-looking edition of Nigel. He had just come down from
+Oxford, was pleasant, gentle, and appeared to be trying to repress a
+natural inclination to be a nut. He called on Bertha in the hope of
+seeing Madeline.
+
+"I say, the Futurist chap has just been here," said Nigel to Charlie.
+
+"Good! What's he like?"
+
+"A little bit of all right. Frightfully fascinating, as girls say," said
+Nigel.
+
+"He's not so bad," said Bertha mildly.
+
+"Isn't he? I've seen the pictures. But what _is_ he like? The sort of
+chap you'd like to be seen with?" asked the young man.
+
+"Well--not acutely," replied Nigel.
+
+"Very dark, is he? quite black?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Good teeth?"
+
+"Yes, several."
+
+"Clean-shaven?"
+
+"Not very."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"But is he really an Italian?" asked Charlie.
+
+"Shouldn't think so," said Nigel carelessly.
+
+"What then?" asked Bertha, laughing.
+
+"Scotch, probably."
+
+"Very likely, if he's clever. They say all the clever people come from
+Scotland," Charlie remarked.
+
+"And the cleverer they are, the sooner they come, I suppose," said
+Bertha. "Fancy the MacFuturist in a kilt!"
+
+"But where does he come from ... where does he really live?" continued
+Charlie, who seemed to have a special, suspicious curiosity on the
+subject.
+
+"Rapallo," said Bertha.
+
+"Where's that?"
+
+"The first turning to the left on the map as you go to Monte Carlo,"
+said Nigel.
+
+"But what _did_ he say--was he very odd and peculiar?"
+
+"Oh, he carried on like one o'clock about Futurism," said Bertha.
+
+"I thought every moment would be my next," said Nigel.
+
+"What nonsense you're both talking," said Bertha.
+
+"Yes, and if Charlie thinks he's going to sit me out by asking
+questions, he's jolly well mistaken," Nigel said. "Look here, old chap,
+Bertha's going out. I know she wants to get into her glad raiment. I'll
+drop you."
+
+"Right-o!" said Charlie, jumping up.
+
+They took their leave. Bertha looked amused.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+RUSSIAN BALLET
+
+
+Arrangements had been made that Mrs. Nigel Hillier was to have a little
+dinner at home for her mother (with whom Nigel was not supposed to be on
+terms); and she and her parent were to go to the St. James's Theatre,
+for which two stalls had been purchased. Nigel pretended he was dining
+with an old friend at the club.
+
+Coming in brightly, but, as usual, losing half his personality in the
+hall, he found Mary at seven o'clock sitting in the little boudoir, in
+the usual arm-chair, looking our for him, not, apparently, thinking of
+dressing for dinner.
+
+"Hallo, Mary!" he said. "Hadn't you better get ready for your mother?"
+
+"No," she responded rather coldly and bitingly, "I've put mother off."
+
+He glanced at her with self-control. She looked, he thought, far more
+bitter than usual.
+
+"That's a pity, because you will be alone--dear. Besides, the stalls
+will be wasted."
+
+"No, they won't," she said. "You'll stay at home with me, and take me to
+the St. James's. You can easily put off your man at the club." She
+looked him full in the eyes.
+
+Colour rose to his face and then faded away.
+
+"I'm sorry, my dear, but that's impossible."
+
+"It isn't impossible--you mean you don't want to do it. ... Oh, do
+please--please, Nigel!" She came towards him and played with his
+tie--the trick of hers that he hated most.
+
+She mistook his silence, which was hesitation as to what plan to adopt,
+for vacillation, and thought she was going to win. ...
+
+"Oh, 'oo will, 'oo will!" she exclaimed, with a rather sickly imitation
+of a spoilt child, with her head on one side. It was a pose that did not
+suit her in any way.
+
+He drew back; the shiny red hair gave him a feeling of positive nausea.
+She was attempting to defeat him--she was trying to be coquettish--poor
+thing! ... She suspected something; she hadn't put off her mother for
+nothing. ... He was going to the Russian Ballet with Bertha--how could
+he leave Bertha in the lurch? With Madeline and Rupert, too--what harm
+was there in it? (The fact that he heartily wished there _was_ had
+really nothing to do with the point.)
+
+Husbands and wives usually know when opposition is useless. Mary
+privately gave it up when she heard Nigel speak firmly and quickly--not
+angrily.
+
+"I've made the arrangement now, and I can't back out."
+
+"And what about me?" she said, in a shrill voice.
+
+He went out of the room hastily, saying:
+
+"I can't help it now; if you alter your arrangements at the last
+minute--stop at home and read a book, or take some friend to the St.
+James's."
+
+He ran upstairs like a hunted hare; he was afraid of being late. He had
+got his table at the Carlton.
+
+Left alone in the boudoir, a terrible expression came over Mary's face.
+She said to herself quite loudly:
+
+"He is not going to the club; he'd give it up if he were. It's something
+about that woman. ..."
+
+A wave of hysteria came over her, also a half-hearted hope of succeeding
+still by a new kind of scene. ...
+
+There were two large china pots on the mantelpiece; she threw them,
+first one, then the other, at the half-open door, smashing them to
+atoms. Excited at her own violence, she ran upstairs screaming,
+regardless of appearance:
+
+"You sha'n't go! You sha'n't go! I hate you. I'll kill myself.
+Oh--oh--oh! Nigel! Nigel!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At eight to the minute Nigel in the Palm Court received Bertha Kellynch
+dressed in black, Madeline in white, and Rupert Denison with a little
+mauve orchid in his buttonhole.
+
+The dinner, subtly ordered, was a complete success, and Madeline Irwin
+was in a dream of happiness, but Bertha was sorry to see that Nigel, who
+was usually remarkably moderate in the matter of champagne, and to-night
+drank even less than usual, had the whole evening a trembling hand. Even
+at the ballet, where he was more than usually ready to enjoy every shade
+of the enjoyable, he was not quite free from nervous agitation. He did
+not drive Rupert home, but let Rupert drop him in Grosvenor Street at
+twelve-thirty--for a slight supper was inevitable and Rupert had taken
+them to the Savoy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. Hillier was in bed and asleep. The maid said she had been ill and
+excited. The maid, frightened, had sent for the doctor. His remedy had
+succeeded in calming her.
+
+The next day Mary seemed subdued, and was amiable. Both ignored the
+quarrel. Nigel believed it would not occur again. He thought his
+firmness had won and that she was defeated. He did not understand her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+PERCY
+
+
+"I've had such a lovely letter from Rupert, Bertha. I'm so excited, I
+can't read it almost!"
+
+Bertha held out her hand. Madeline was looking agitated.
+
+"He says," said Madeline, looking closely at the letter in her
+short-sighted way, "that he wishes he could burn me like spice on the
+altar of a life-long friendship! Fancy!"
+
+"Rather indefinite, isn't it?"
+
+"Oh, but listen!" And Madeline read aloud eagerly: "_Yesterday evening
+was perfect: but to-day and for several days I shall be unable to see
+you. Why is a feast day always followed by a fast?_"
+
+"Is it Doncaster to-morrow?" asked Bertha.
+
+"Don't be absurd, that's nothing to do with it. Listen to this. _What a
+curiously interesting nature you have! Am I not right when I say that I
+fancy in time, as you develop and grow older, you may look at life eye
+to eye with me?_"
+
+"Madeline dear, _please_ don't mistake that for a proposal. I assure you
+that it isn't one."
+
+Madeline looked up sharply. "Who said it was? But, anyhow, it shows
+interest. He must be rather keen--I mean interested--in me. It's all
+very well to say it means nothing, but for a man nowadays to sit down
+and write a long letter all about nothing at all, it must have some
+significance. Look how easily he might have rung up! I know you're
+afraid of encouraging me too much, and it's very kind of you--but I must
+confess I _do_ think that letters mean a great deal. Think of the
+trouble he's taken. And there's a great deal about himself in it, too."
+
+"Of course, Madeline, I don't deny that it does show interest, and he
+probably must be a little in love with someone--perhaps with himself--to
+write a letter about nothing. As you say, it's unusual nowadays. But you
+mustn't forget that, though Rupert's young, he belongs to the '95
+period. Things were very different then. People thought nothing of
+writing a long letter; and a telegram about nothing was considered quite
+advanced and American."
+
+"Oh, bother!" said Madeline, "I hate being told about the period he
+belongs to. It makes it seem like ancient history. Listen to what he
+says about you--such lovely things! '_Mrs. Kellynch is a delightful
+contrast to you, and is all that is charming and brilliant, in a
+different way. Is she not one of those (alas, too few) who are always
+followed by the flutes of the pagan world?_'"
+
+"That's really very sweet of him. I say, I wonder what it means
+exactly?"
+
+"I have no idea. But it just shows, doesn't it?"
+
+With a satisfied smile, Madeline put the letter away. Bertha did not
+press to see it, but remarked: "I see he didn't sign himself very
+affectionately. Evidently there's nothing compromising in the letter."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"Because you put it away. Otherwise you would have shown it to me.
+Nobody cares to show an uncompromising love-letter--with a lukewarm
+signature."
+
+"At any rate," said Madeline, gliding over the point and leaving the
+letter in its cover, "your taking us out last night was a very great
+help. I feel I've made progress; he thinks more of me."
+
+"Yes, I thought it would be a good thing to do. Now you'd better not
+answer the letter, and please don't show any anxiety if you don't see
+him for a little while, either."
+
+"I sha'n't be a bit anxious, Bertha, especially if it's only racing, or
+something of that sort. Or, in fact, anything, unless I get afraid he's
+seeing Miss Chivvey. Do you ever think that Rupert still takes an
+interest in Miss Chivvey?"
+
+"A little, but I don't think it matters. I think she's needed as a
+contrast to you. She surprises and shocks him, and that amuses him, but
+she isn't his real taste. I don't think Miss Chivvey's dangerous,
+seriously. She uses cheap scent."
+
+"Oh!" cried Madeline, delighted. "There's nothing so awful as cheap
+scent!"
+
+"Except expensive scent, because it's stronger," said Bertha.
+
+Madeline looked at her admiringly.
+
+"How extraordinary you are, Bertha! It's wonderfully sweet of you to
+take such an interest in my wretched little romance. You might have so
+many of your own, if you cared to."
+
+"Ah, but I don't care to. I'm rather exacting in a way, but I don't want
+variety. I've no desire for an audience. I don't want a little of
+everybody. All I want is the whole of one person."
+
+"Is that all! Well, you've got it," replied Madeline.
+
+"I hope so," she answered, rather seriously. "I'm not altogether
+satisfied. I can't settle down to the idea of a dull, humdrum sort of
+life--and of Percy's being fond of me casually."
+
+"Oh, good gracious, I'm sure he isn't casual! What a strange idea of
+yours!"
+
+"I hope I'm wrong. I believe I want something that's very nearly
+impossible. I've always had a sort of ideal or dream of making an
+ordinary average married life into a romance."
+
+"Well, and can't it be?"
+
+"I don't really see why it shouldn't. But there's no doubt there are
+immense difficulties in the way. It seems to be necessary, first of all,
+for there to be not only one exceptional temperament, but two. And
+that's a good deal to expect. Of course, the obvious danger is the
+probability of people getting tired of anything they've got. I'm afraid
+that's human nature. The toys the children see in the shop-window always
+seem much less wonderful when they're home in the nursery. As a brother
+of mine used to say a little vulgarly, 'You don't run after an omnibus
+when once you've caught it.'"
+
+"Perhaps not."
+
+"As soon as you belong to a person, obviously, Madeline, they don't
+value you _quite_ in the same kind of way. The glamour seems to go."
+
+"But you don't want necessarily always to be _run after_, surely? You
+want to be treasured and valued--all that sort of thing."
+
+"Yes, I know! But my ideal would be that there should be just as much
+excitement and romance and _fun_ after marriage as before--if it were
+possible."
+
+"Oh, good heavens, Bertha! then, if one were to go by that horrible
+theory of your brother's, one ought never to marry the person one loves,
+if one wants to keep them."
+
+"No, in theory, one ought not. But then, where are you if he goes and
+marries someone else? After all, you'd rather he got tired of _you_ than
+of the other person! Wouldn't you prefer he should make _your_ life
+miserable than any other woman's? Besides, one must take a risk. It's
+worth it."
+
+"I should think it is, indeed!" cried Madeline. "Why, I would marry
+Rupert if I thought I should never see him again after a month or
+two--if I knew for a fact he would get tired of me!"
+
+"Of course you would, and quite right too. But remember people are not
+all alike. There are any number of men who are absolutely incapable of
+being really in love with anyone who belongs to them. They simply can't
+help it. It's the instinct of the chase. And it's mere waste of time and
+energy to attempt to change them."
+
+"Are you speaking of men or husbands?"
+
+"Either, really. But don't let's forget that there are a great many
+others, on the other hand, who care for nothing and no one who isn't
+their own. Collectors, rather than hunters. Surely you've noticed that,
+Madeline? It's a passion for property. The kind of man who thinks _his_
+house, _his_ pictures, _his_ cook, even his mother, everything connected
+with him must be better than the possessions of anyone else. Well, this
+kind of man is quite capable of remaining very devoted to his own wife,
+and in love with her, if she's only decently nice to him; and even if
+she's not. I mean the sort of man one sometimes sees at a party,
+pointing out some utterly insignificant person there, and declaring that
+Gladys or Jane, or whoever it is, takes the shine out of everyone else,
+and that there's no one else in the room to touch her. His wife, of
+course. I don't mean out of devotion--that's another, finer
+temperament--but simply and solely because she belongs to him."
+
+"Well, Bertha, I don't care what his reason is, I _like_ that man!"
+
+"Oh, rather! So do I. And very often he's not a bit appreciated; though
+he would be by us. Perhaps the most usual case of all is for the
+husband, if he's married for love, to remain in love for the first two
+or three years, and for the love then to turn gradually into a warm
+friendship, or even a deep affection, which may go on growing
+deeper--it's only the romance and the glamour and sparkle that seems to
+go--the excitement. And that's such a pity. I can't help thinking in
+many cases it really needn't be. More often than not, I believe, it's
+the woman's mistake. Just at first, she's liable to take too much
+advantage of the new sort of power she feels."
+
+"Do you mean, Bertha, that the woman generally doesn't take enough
+trouble with the house to make it pleasant for him at home--and all
+that?"
+
+"I _didn't_ mean that, though it might be so. But sometimes it's just
+the other way. More often than not she takes a great deal too much
+trouble about the home, and bothers him about it. There's far too much
+domesticity. It's like playing at houses at first, but soon it grows
+tedious. At any rate the whole thing is worth studying very deeply. I
+can tell you I haven't given it up yet."
+
+"You? Oh, Bertha, I can't think what fault you have to find. You, as you
+say, certainly are exacting."
+
+"I blame myself, solely. I feel that, somehow or other, I've allowed
+things to get too prosaic. Percy takes everything for granted:
+everything goes on wheels. Of course, if I were satisfied to settle down
+at twenty-eight with complete contentment at the prospect of a humdrum
+existence, it would be all right; but I'm not. In another few years
+Percy will be getting on very well as a barrister, taking himself
+seriously, and regarding me just as part of the furniture at home. You
+know he always calls me a canary; that shows his point of view. Well,
+then, he might get a little interested in a wilder kind of bird, and I
+shouldn't like it!"
+
+"What would your idea be, then? Would you flirt to make him jealous?"
+
+"No, I certainly shouldn't. That's frightfully obvious and common. If I
+ever did flirt, it wouldn't be for such a silly reason as that. It would
+be for my own amusement and for nothing else, but I don't think I ever
+shall. I think it's a fatal mistake for a woman to lower herself in any
+way in the other person's eyes. Her lasting hold and best one, is that
+he must think her perfection; it's the safest link with a really nice
+man. Anyone can be worse than you are, but it's not easy when you take
+the line that none can be _better_! because no one else is going to try!
+But if, after all, he still gets tired of her, as they sometimes do,
+well--it's very hard--but I am afraid she must manage badly."
+
+"I never should have dreamed you thought of all these things, Bertha.
+You seem so serene and happy."
+
+"I am. It's the one subject I ever worry about. I'm always prepared for
+the worst."
+
+"And I'm quite sure you've no cause to be. Why not wait till trouble
+comes?" suggested Madeline.
+
+"Why, then it would be too late. No, I want to ward it off long before
+there's any danger."
+
+"I think it's very unlike you--almost morbid--bothering about
+possibilities that will never happen."
+
+"I daresay it is, in a way. But, you know, I fancy I've second sight
+sometimes. What I feel with us is that things are too smooth, too calm,
+a little dull. Something ought to happen."
+
+"You're looking so pretty, too," said Madeline rather irrelevantly.
+
+"I'm glad to hear it; but I only want one person to think so."
+
+"But it's obvious that he does; he's very proud of you."
+
+"I sometimes think he's too much accustomed to me. He takes me as a
+matter of course."
+
+"If that is so, I daresay you'll be able to alter matters," said
+Madeline, getting up to go.
+
+"Yes, I daresay I shall; it only needs a little readjusting," Bertha
+said.
+
+They shook hands in cordial fashion. They did not belong to the gushing
+school, and, notwithstanding their really deep mutual affection, neither
+would ever have dreamed of kissing the other.
+
+As soon as Madeline had gone Bertha went and looked steadily and
+seriously in the glass, for some considerable time. She thought on the
+whole that it was true that she was looking pretty: on this subject she
+was perfectly calm, cool and unbiassed, as if judging the appearance of
+a stranger. For, though she naturally liked to be admired, as all women
+do, she was entirely without that fluffy sort of vanity, that weak
+conceit, so indulgent to itself, that makes nearly all pretty women
+incapable of perceiving when they are beginning to go off, or unwilling
+to own it to themselves.
+
+The one person for whose admiration and interest she cared for more and
+more, her Percy, she fancied was growing rather cooler. This crumpled
+rose-leaf distressed her extremely.
+
+At this moment he arrived home. She heard his voice and his step, and
+waited for him to come up, with an increasing vividness of colour and
+expression, with a look of excited animation, that in so sophisticated a
+woman was certainly, after ten years, a remarkable tribute to a
+husband.
+
+Percy, who was never very quick, was this evening much longer coming
+upstairs than usual. He was looking at the letters in the hall. With his
+long, legal-looking, handsome face, his even features, his fine figure
+and his expression of mild self-control, and the large, high brow, he
+had a certain look of importance. He appeared to have more personality
+then he really had. His manner was impressive, even when one knew--as
+Bertha certainly did--that he was the mildest, the most amiable and
+good-natured of serious barristers.
+
+With one of those impulses that are almost impossible to account for,
+Percy took one of the letters up before the others. It was directed in
+type. He half opened it, then put it in his pocket. He felt anxious to
+read it; for some quite inexplicable reason he felt there was something
+about it momentous, and of interest. It was not a circular, or a bill.
+It made him feel uncomfortable. After waiting a moment he opened it and
+read part of it. Then he replaced it in his pocket, and ran up to his
+room, taking the other unopened letters with him.
+
+"Percy!" called Bertha, as he passed the drawing-room.
+
+"I shall be down in a few minutes," he called out.
+
+He went upstairs and shut himself into his room.
+
+She also felt unaccountably uncomfortable and anxious, as if something
+had happened, or was going to happen. Why was Percy so long?
+
+When he came down at last she gave him his tea and a cigarette and
+noticed, or perhaps imagined, that he looked different from usual. He
+was pale. Yes, he was distinctly a little pale. Poor Percy!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Instead of telling him he was not looking very well, and asking him what
+was the matter, complaining that he had not taken any notice of her, or
+behaving otherwise idiotically, after the usual fashion of affectionate
+wives, she remained silent, and waited till he seemed more as usual.
+
+Then he said: "Has anyone been here to-day?"
+
+"No one but Madeline. She's only just gone."
+
+"Oh yes--been out at all?"
+
+"I went out this morning for a little while."
+
+He seemed absent.
+
+"You enjoyed yourself last night, didn't you?" he asked.
+
+"Oh yes, it was rather fun. Yet, somehow, the Russian Ballet never
+leaves me in good spirits for the next day. It doesn't really leave a
+pleasant impression somehow--an agreeable flavour."
+
+"Doesn't it--why?"
+
+"One wants to see it, one is interested, from curiosity, and then,
+afterwards, there's a sort of Dead Sea-fruitish, sour-grapes,
+autumn-leaves, sort of feeling! It's too remote from real life and yet
+it hasn't an uplifting effect. At any rate it always depresses me."
+
+He gave her a rather searching look, and then said:
+
+"Did Hillier like it?"
+
+"I think he enjoys everything. He's always so cheery."
+
+"And to-night we're dining at home?"
+
+"Oh yes, I hope so. We'll have a quiet evening."
+
+After a moment Percy said, in a slightly constrained way:
+
+"I think I shall have to go out for half-an-hour. I want to see a man at
+the club."
+
+"Oh, must you? But it's raining so much. Why don't you ring him up and
+ask him to come here?"
+
+She was anxious not to betray a womanish fear that he might be getting
+influenza, as she knew that nothing would annoy him so much as bothering
+about him.
+
+"No; I must go out."
+
+She dropped the subject. He took up a new book she had been reading and
+talked about it somewhat pompously and at great length. The whole time
+it struck her he was not like himself. Something was wrong. He was
+either worried, or going to be ill. He had either a temper or a
+temperature. But she did not refer to it. Dinner was sometimes a good
+cure for such indispositions.
+
+He continued to make conversation in a slightly formal way until he went
+out. After he had gone she observed to herself that his manner had
+varied from polite absent-mindedness to slight irritability. He had gone
+out without telling her anything about his plans. He had not even kissed
+her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+AN ANONYMOUS LETTER
+
+
+Mrs. Hillier habitually had breakfast in her own room, for no particular
+reason, but because Nigel encouraged her in this luxurious manner of
+beginning the day. He said a woman ought not to have to come down until
+the day had been a little warmed, and got ready for her; that she should
+have time to choose her clothes to harmonise with her moods--time, after
+a look at the weather, and hearing the news of the day, to settle on
+what the moods should be. For a man, on the contrary, he thought it
+ridiculous and weakly idle--indolent in a way not suited to a man. A
+man, according to Nigel, ought no more to have his breakfast in bed than
+to come down with a bow of blue ribbon in his hair, or to go and lie
+down before dressing for a dinner-party.
+
+However, one morning it darted suddenly into Mary's head that Nigel, on
+going downstairs to breakfast, while she did not, had nearly an hour to
+himself. What a horrible idea! What injustice to her! And it occurred to
+her that for years she had never seen Nigel open his letters. She had,
+indeed, not the slightest idea what his manner at breakfast was like.
+Was this fair? He always managed to get out of any invitation to the
+country which included them both.
+
+As soon as she had thought of this, she rang for her maid, and dressed
+in the wildest hurry, as though she had to catch a train: leaving her
+tray on the little table untouched, the maid running after her to fasten
+hooks, and buttons, to stick in pins, and tie ribbons, as though they
+were playing a game.
+
+Mary won. She was flying out of the room when the maid ran after her,
+saying:
+
+"Madame, your tortoiseshell comb is falling out of your hair; won't you
+let me finish dressing it?"
+
+"Don't worry, Searle. What _does_ it matter?"
+
+She flew downstairs.
+
+Nigel looked up with that intense surprise that no one can succeed in
+disguising as the acutest pleasure.
+
+"Well, by Jove," he said, in his quick way, which was so cool and casual
+that it almost had the effect of a drawl. He looked at her closely, and
+said reassuringly:
+
+"After all, it may not be true; and if it is, it may be for the best."
+
+"What may not be true, Nigel. What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, this sudden bad news."
+
+"What news? There is no news."
+
+"Isn't there? By Jove, this is splendid! Just come down to have
+breakfast with me, then! Capital. What will you have, dear?"
+
+He rang the bell.
+
+"Are you sorry to see me?" she asked, darting looks at the envelopes by
+his plate, looks that were almost sharp enough to open them.
+
+"Sorry to see you? Don't be absurd! Your comb's falling into the sugar
+basin, and I shouldn't think it would improve the taste of the coffee.
+Look out! Help! Saved! Mary dear, why don't you do your hair?"
+
+"I was afraid you might go out before I came down."
+
+"Why, I'm not going out for ages, yet."
+
+He gave her his letters in their envelopes, with a half-smile.
+
+"I don't want to see them," she said. "Why do you pass me the letters,
+as though you thought I came down for that?"
+
+Nigel pretended not to hear. He opened the newspaper.
+
+"I thought," she went on, "it seemed rather a shame that I should always
+have breakfast upstairs, and leave you alone, without anyone to keep you
+company."
+
+"Awfully kind of you, but, really, I don't mind a bit."
+
+He gave a quick look round the room. He had again that curious, bitter
+sensation of being trapped. Was he now not even going to have this
+pleasant morning hour to himself?
+
+Probably there was not a prettier room in London than this one. It had
+the pale pink and green, blue and mauve colouring of spring flowers; the
+curved shapes of the dainty artificial creatures who lived for fine and
+trivial pleasure only; the best Louis Quinze decoration. And to-day it
+was a lovely day; and the warm west wind blew in the breath of the pink
+and blue hyacinths in the window-boxes. There was that pleasant gay
+buzzing sound of London in June outside in Grosvenor Street: the growing
+hum of the season, that made one feel right in it, even if one wasn't.
+Everything was peacefully happy, harsh and hard things seemed unreal;
+the world seemed made for birds and butterflies, light sentiment,
+colour, perfume and gay music. In this London life seemed like a Watteau
+picture.
+
+Nigel saw that he had never yet realised why he was so fond of this
+room, where he always had breakfast. It was because there he was free,
+and alone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Now he was determined that there should be no quarrelling to-day. It is
+only fair to Nigel to say that he was always quite determined to keep
+away the quarrels; and fought against them. Placed as they were, with
+such infinitely more possibilities of happiness than nine _menages_ out
+of ten--though leaving out unfortunately one, and that the most
+important part--love--it was terrible that they should quarrel. He was
+so easy-going, so ready to ignore her faults, to make the best of things
+as they were. And she liked to quarrel, merely because it made her, for
+the time, of importance to him. In fact, being madly in love with him,
+and both wildly and stupidly jealous, to get up a quarrel was almost the
+only satisfaction she ever had, the only effect she ever produced now.
+
+Since the other evening, when she had behaved with entire want of
+self-control, or, perhaps, rather with a kind of instinctive
+premeditated hysteria, she appeared to recognise that manner had not
+been a real success. She had tried, at all costs, to prevent him going
+to the theatre, and had failed.
+
+The next day they ignored the trouble; and for some time afterwards she
+seemed pleasanter, while he was kind and attentive, believing she had
+really forgotten her grievance.
+
+On the contrary, it was more firmly fixed in her mind than before. She
+was absolutely determined that, on no excuse whatever, should he
+continue to see Bertha Kellynch.
+
+She had found out that the host of the evening at the ballet had been
+Rupert Denison, and that Madeline Irwin, Bertha and Nigel were the
+guests. For more than a week Mary had entirely given up the quarrelsome
+and nagging mood, so that Nigel believed she no longer had this absurd
+fancy about Bertha. As a matter of fact, for the first time, she had
+really been dissembling, had spent a good deal of time and money in
+finding out how both Bertha and Nigel spent their time. What little she
+had found out had given her an entirely false impression, and that had
+resulted in a very desperate determination. She meant to carry it out
+this morning. But she wanted to talk a little more to Nigel first.
+
+"Nigel dear, you know what you said the other evening about giving
+parties?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I've been thinking, perhaps, dear, you're right. I find I've dropped
+nearly all your old friends. I think we'd better give one big party--a
+reception, I think. Our drawing-room has never been seen yet."
+
+Nigel looked up, really pleased to see her taking a more normal sort of
+interest in her existence.
+
+"By Jove! I am glad. That's capital! Yes, of course. To start with we'll
+give an At Home, as they call 'em."
+
+"Do you think there ought to be any sort of entertainment, Nigel?"
+
+"Well, just as you like. You said you didn't want music. ... How would
+it be to have a band to play the whole evening?"
+
+"Yes, that would do very well. Oh, and, Nigel! I find I've been so
+careless and forgotten all the addresses and lost the cards of people
+that we used to know. I shall want someone to help me."
+
+"Yes, I suppose Mademoiselle won't do."
+
+"Oh no, she's no use. I shall engage a typewriter to go through the list
+with me and send out cards."
+
+"Right-o! good idea."
+
+He was quite surprised and satisfied, and thought to himself how wise it
+was of him the other day to ignore the absurd fit of excitement when she
+had smashed the vases. Certainly she had been better ever since.
+
+"You'd like me to help you with the list, wouldn't you, dear?" he said
+presently.
+
+She gave him a sharp look.
+
+"I suppose we'd better ask everybody we know to this sort of thing," she
+said.
+
+"Your mother and I are not on the best of terms, I'm afraid. But you
+must be sure to ask her, and we'll make it up."
+
+Nigel thought to himself that really would be only fair, considering
+that he had practically and ingeniously invented the quarrel on purpose;
+in order that he could have an excuse to go out when Mary's mother came
+to see her. But, really, Nigel liked her personally and knew that she
+liked him, and that she was not without sympathy for anyone who had to
+live with her daughter.
+
+"I suppose you'll want me to ask the Kellynches?" asked Mary, in a
+rather low voice.
+
+"It would look natural if you did. But, really, I have seen so little of
+them for the last few years that you can please yourself about it."
+
+"You've accepted several invitations from them," said Mary, in rather a
+cutting tone. "Perhaps it would be as well to return them."
+
+"I don't think I've ever dined there," said Nigel casually.
+
+"Didn't you meet them that night at the Russian Ballet? Don't deny it! I
+know you all went to supper at the Savoy."
+
+"Who's denying it! You know that Denison asked me to supper at the
+Savoy, and that Madeline Irwin was there, and Mrs. Kellynch."
+
+"Quite a nice little _partie carree_," said Mary, unable to keep up her
+plan of self-control, and speaking in a trembling voice.
+
+"Now, Mary, don't be absurd! You know it's hardly usual for a bachelor
+like Rupert to ask three women or three men to supper!"
+
+"I suppose he drove Miss Irwin home?" said Mary, commanding herself as
+well as she could.
+
+"No, he didn't. Why should he? Mrs. Kellynch who is Madeline's intimate
+friend, naturally drove Miss Irwin home in her car. And Rupert, who
+lives near here, dropped me. It was some little time ago, by the way,
+but I remember it quite well. Nice feller Rupert--we ought to ask him,
+too."
+
+"All right, dear."
+
+They parted amiably.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+An hour later Mary was going through her lists of cards and addresses
+with the typewriter when she suddenly said:
+
+"Oh, Miss Wilson, I'm writing a sort of story. And it's to be told in a
+series of letters."
+
+"Oh yes."
+
+"Will you please take this down. This is the address: Percy Kellynch,
+Esq., 100 Sloane Street. It begins like this: 'Dear Mr. Kellynch----'"
+...
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+MASTER CLIFFORD KELLYNCH
+
+
+Lady Kellynch was in the room she usually chose for sitting in for any
+length of time, when her son, Clifford (twelve years old), was at home
+for the holidays.
+
+A widow, handsome and excessively dignified, as I have mentioned, with
+her prim notions, she was essentially like the old-fashioned idea of an
+old maid. As her fine house was very perfectly and meticulously
+furnished, she treated the presence of Clifford as an outrage in any
+room but this particularly practical and saddle-bag old apartment, where
+there was still a corner with a little low chair in it, and boxes full
+of toys and other things, which were not only far outgrown by Clifford,
+but which were absolutely never seen nowadays at all, and would be
+considered far behindhand as amusements for a child of four.
+
+This extra, additional child, born eighteen years after his brother, and
+just before the death of his father, was still looked upon by Lady
+Kellynch as a curious mixture of an unexpected blessing, an unnecessary
+nuisance, and a pleasant surprise. She was always delighted to see him
+when he first came home from school, but he was very soon allowed to go
+and stay with Bertha and Percy. Bertha adored him and delighted in him
+in reality; Lady Kellynch worshipped him in theory, but though she
+hardly knew it herself, his presence absolutely interfered with all her
+plans about nothing, spoilt her little arrangements for order, and
+jarred on the clockwork regularity of her life, especially in her
+moments of sentiment.
+
+He was a very good-looking boy, with smooth black hair and regular
+features like his brother, Percy. Perhaps because he was, according to
+his mother's view, very much advanced for his age, he regarded her
+rather as a backward child, to whom it would be highly desirable, but
+unfortunately practically impossible, to explain life as it is now
+lived.
+
+Lady Kellynch was doing a peculiar little piece of bead embroidery. She
+did it every day for ten minutes after lunch with a look at Clifford
+every now and then, occasionally counting her beads, as if she was not
+altogether quite sure whether or not he ate them when she wasn't
+looking. This was the moment that she always chose to have conversation
+with him, so as to learn to know his character. A couple of suitable
+books, "The Jungle Book," and "Eric, or Little by Little," were placed
+on a low table by Clifford's side; but, as a matter of fact, he was
+reading _The English Review_.
+
+"Clifford darling!"
+
+He put the magazine down, shoving a newspaper over it.
+
+"Well, mother?"
+
+"Tell me something about your life at school, darling."
+
+He glanced at the ceiling, then looked down for inspiration.
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Well, haven't you any nice little friends at school, Clifford--any
+favourites?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Oh, good Lord, mother, of course I haven't! People don't have little
+friends. I don't know what you mean."
+
+She looked rather pained.
+
+"No friends! Oh, dear, dear, dear! But are there no nice boys that you
+like?"
+
+"No. Most of them are awful rotters."
+
+She put down her beads.
+
+"Clifford! I'm shocked to hear this. Rotters! I suppose that's one of
+your school expressions--you mean no nice boys? Poor little fellow! I
+shall make a note of that."
+
+He looked up, rather frightened.
+
+"What on earth for?"
+
+"Why, I shall certainly speak to your master about it. Oh! to think that
+you haven't got a single friend in the school! _All_ bad boys! There
+must be something wrong somewhere!"
+
+"Oh, mummy, for goodness sake don't speak to anybody about it. If you
+say a word, I tell you, I sha'n't go back to school. I never heard of
+such a thing! I didn't say they were all bad boys--rot! No. Some of them
+aren't so bad."
+
+"Well, tell me about one--if it's only one, Clifford."
+
+He thought a moment.
+
+"I'm afraid you'll go writing to the master, as you call it, and get me
+expelled for telling tales, or something."
+
+"Oh, my darling, of course I won't! Poor boy! tell me about this one."
+
+"There's one chap who's fairly decent, a chap called Pickering."
+
+"To think," she murmured to herself, stroking her transformation, and
+shaking her head, "to think there should be only one boy fairly decent
+in all that enormous school!"
+
+"Oh, well! _he's_ simply _frightfully_ decent, as a matter of fact.
+Pickering fairly takes it. He's top-hole. There's nothing he can't do."
+
+"What does he do, darling?"
+
+"Oh, I can't exactly explain. He's a bit of all right. It's frightfully
+smart to be seen with him."
+
+Lady Kellynch looked surprised at this remark.
+
+"Clifford--really! I'd no idea you had these social views. Of course
+you're quite right, dear. I've always been in favour of your being
+friends with little gentlemen. But I shouldn't like you to be at
+all--what is called a snob. So long as he _is_ a little gentleman, of
+course, that's everything."
+
+Clifford laughed.
+
+"I never said Pickering was a gentleman! big or little! You don't
+understand, mother. I mean it's smart to be seen with him because--oh! I
+can't explain. He's all right."
+
+His mother thought for a little while, then, having heard that it is
+right to encourage school friendships at home, so as to know under what
+influence your boy got, she said:
+
+"Would you like, dear, to have this young Master Pickering to tea here
+one day?"
+
+He looked up, and round the room.
+
+"Oh no, mother; I shouldn't care for him to come here."
+
+"Why not, dear?"
+
+"Oh, I can't explain exactly; it isn't the sort of place for him."
+
+Lady Kellynch was positively frightened to ask why, for fear her boy
+should show contempt for his own home, so she didn't go into the matter,
+but remarked:
+
+"I should think a beautiful house in Onslow Square, with a garden like
+this, was just the thing for a boy to like."
+
+He shook his head with a humorous expression of contempt.
+
+"Pickering wouldn't go into a _Square_ garden, mother!"
+
+She waited a moment, wondering what shaped garden was suited to him,
+what form of pleasaunce was worthy of the presence of this exceptional
+boy, and then said, trying to ascertain the point of view:
+
+"Would you take him to see Percy?"
+
+He brightened up directly.
+
+"Percy! Oh yes, rather. I'd like him to see Bertha. I shall ask her to
+let me take him one day."
+
+Lady Kellynch felt vaguely pained, and envious and jealous, but on
+reflection realised to herself that probably the wonderful Pickering
+would be a very great nuisance, and make a noise, and create general
+untidiness and confusion, in which Bertha was quite capable of taking
+part; so she said:
+
+"Do so, if you like, dear. You're going to see Bertha soon, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes. I'm going to see her to-day." He quickly put _The English Review_
+under the cushion, sitting on it as he saw his mother look up from her
+work.
+
+"Bertha's all right; she's pretty too."
+
+"She's very good and kind to you, I must say," said Lady Kellynch. "As
+they have asked you so often, I think I should like you to pay her a
+nice little attention to-day, dear. Take her a pretty basket of
+flowers."
+
+Clifford's handsome dark face became overclouded with boredom.
+
+"Oh, good Lord, mother! can't you telephone to a florist and have it
+sent to her, if she's _got_ to have vegetables?"
+
+"But surely, dear, it would be nicer for you to take it."
+
+"Oh, mother, it would be awful rot, carting about floral tribs in a taxi
+all over London."
+
+"Floral tribs? What are floral tribs? Oh, tributes! I see! In a taxi!
+No. I never dreamt of your doing such a thing. Ridiculous extravagance!
+Go from Kensington to Sloane Street in a taxi!"
+
+"How did you suppose I'd take it, then?"
+
+"I supposed you'd walk," said Lady Kellynch, in a frightened voice.
+
+"Walk! Great Scott! Walk with a basket of flowers! What next! I didn't
+know you were bringing me up as a messenger-boy. No, mother, I'm too old
+to be a boy scout, or anything of that sort. What have you got Warden
+for? Why don't you send the footman? But far the most sensible way is to
+ring up the place itself, and give the order."
+
+"No, dear," said Lady Kellynch, rather crushed. She had pictured his
+entrance with some beautiful flowers to please his sister-in-law. "Never
+mind; it doesn't matter."
+
+"Mind you," said the spoilt boy, standing up, and looking at himself in
+the glass. "Mind you I should be awfully glad to give Bertha anything
+she likes. I don't mind. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll call in at
+that place in Bond Street, and get her some chocolates."
+
+"Charbonnel and Walker's, I suppose you mean," said his mother.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"They'll do. Pickering says his brother, who's an artist, is going to do
+a historical picture for next year's Academy on the subject of 'The
+First Meeting between Charbonnel and Walker.'"
+
+She looked bewildered.
+
+"Just as you like, my dear. Take her some bonbons if you prefer it.
+Wait! One moment, Clifford. Bertha hates sweets. She never touches
+them."
+
+"It doesn't matter," he answered. "I do."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+A DISCOVERY
+
+
+"Come in, old boy!"
+
+Bertha was lying on the sofa reading a large book. She didn't put down
+either her little feet or the book when her young brother-in-law came
+in.
+
+He also had a book in his pocket, which he took out. Then he produced a
+box in silver paper.
+
+"For you," he remarked, and then immediately cut the blue ribbon with a
+penknife and proceeded to begin the demolition of the chocolates.
+
+"A present for me?" said Bertha.
+
+"Yes," he said, taking a second one rather quickly and glancing at the
+second row.
+
+"I'm so glad you've got me the kind you like. I hope you've got those
+with the burnt almonds that you're so particularly fond of?"
+
+"Oh yes, rather!"
+
+"Thanks. That was nice and thoughtful of you; I know they're your
+favourite sort."
+
+"Yes, they are."
+
+"And what I always think is so nice about you, Clifford," Bertha went
+on, "is that you're so truly thoughtful. I mean, you never forget your
+own tastes. You really take trouble to get yourself any little thing you
+like. You put yourself out."
+
+"Oh--I----"
+
+"Oh no, I'm not flattering you; I really mean it. You're such a nice
+thoughtful boy. I've seen you take a lot of trouble, rather than deprive
+yourself of anything you cared for."
+
+"Oh, Bertha!"
+
+"Are you going to stay long to-day?"
+
+"Yes, I am," said Clifford, taking up the book he had brought with him.
+"As long as I can."
+
+"Oh."
+
+"How long can I?"
+
+"Till dinner, or till anyone turns up that I want to talk to."
+
+"Right-o! But you can send me into another room. I needn't go home, need
+I?"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Oh, you silly boy! Of course not."
+
+"I say, have you seen my report?" he asked gravely.
+
+"Some of it. Your mother read out little bits."
+
+"Which little bits?" he asked rather anxiously.
+
+"Oh, the worst of course!" said Bertha. "The purple patches! You're a
+credit to the family, I don't think!"
+
+"She asked me who was my nicest little friend at school," said Clifford.
+
+"And what did you say?"
+
+"I told her about Pickering. I say, Bertha, ... can I bring Pickering
+here?"
+
+"Of course you can."
+
+"May I give him a regular sort of invitation from you, then?"
+
+"Yes, rather. Tell him that I and Percy ask him to come and live here
+from to-morrow morning for the rest of his natural life. Or, if that
+doesn't seem cordial enough, we'll adopt him as our only son."
+
+"Oh no! I think that's too much."
+
+"Is it? Well, make it from to-morrow afternoon. Or perhaps we'd better
+not be effusive; it wouldn't look well. So, instead of that, I'll invite
+him to go to the Zoological Gardens on Sunday fortnight for an hour, and
+you and he can have buns and tea at your own expense there. That's not
+too hospitable and gushing, is it?"
+
+He laughed.
+
+"You do look smart, Bertha!" he remarked. "Your shoes are always so
+frightfully right. I say, can't you tell mother to wear the same sort of
+shoes? And tell her to look narrower, and not have such high collars."
+
+"My dear boy, your mother dresses beautifully," said Bertha. "What do
+you want her to look like?"
+
+"I should like her to look like some of those little cards on cigarette
+boxes, or like a picture post-card, if you want to know," he admitted
+candidly.
+
+"That's absurd, Cliff."
+
+"But, Bertha, some of the fellows' mothers do."
+
+"Remember your mother is _Percy's_ mother, too."
+
+"Pickering's mother doesn't look much older than you," he replied.
+
+"Oh--what a horrid woman!"
+
+He smiled. "Why do you call her a horrid woman? For not looking older
+than you?"
+
+"Oh! tell her to mind her own business, and not go interfering with me.
+I shall look whatever age I choose without consulting her!" Bertha
+pretended to pout and be offended, and went on reading for a little
+while.
+
+He took another chocolate and turned a page.
+
+She did not ask to see the book.
+
+"That's what I call so jolly about you," presently said Clifford. "When
+I come to see you, you don't keep asking me questions, or giving me
+things, or advice, or anything. You do what you like, and I do what I
+like--I mean to say, we both do just what we like."
+
+"Yes; that's the way to be pleasant companions," said Bertha. "I go your
+way, and you go mine."
+
+"How's Percy?" the boy asked presently.
+
+"Percy's the same as usual. Only I fancy he seems a little depressed."
+
+Presently Clifford looked up and said:
+
+"Anyway, you'll think it over, Bertha; and see what you decide to do
+about asking Pickering?"
+
+"Rather!" said Bertha, turning a page absently. "He's rather a wonderful
+chap, then?"
+
+"Isn't he!"
+
+"What sort?"
+
+"What _sort_?" cried Clifford, dropping his book. "Why, Bertha, I was
+_with_ him, _actually with him_, when he went into the country post
+office and asked the woman if she would let him have small change for
+ten shillings, and he found he hadn't the half-sovereign then, but would
+pay her when he didn't see her again! And then he said if she wouldn't
+do that, he'd like to buy some stamps, and asked if she'd show him some
+to choose from. And then he said--I saw him do it--'I'll take those two
+in the middle--I like the colour.' When she said they were fivepence he
+said that was too expensive, and he couldn't run to it. And then he
+wanted to buy some sweets--they sell everything at those country
+shops--and she wrapped some up for him, and then he said he hadn't got a
+penny, and would she put it down to Lord Arthur's account--that's an
+uncle of his who didn't know anything about it, and hadn't got any
+account. And when she refused, fancy, Bertha! he asked if she'd take
+stamps, as she seemed fond of them, and when she said she would, he
+stamped twice on the floor and ran out of the shop, and I ran after him.
+She _was_ angry!"
+
+"He seems a useful boy."
+
+"Rather! His people are frightfully rich, you know," went on Clifford.
+"When they tease him about it at school, he says he's never allowed to
+use the same motor twice, and that they're made of solid gold! He chaffs
+everybody."
+
+Clifford murmured on rather disjointedly, and Bertha read without
+listening much, occasionally making some remark, when the telephone
+rang.
+
+Bertha had an extension on the little table next to her sofa.
+
+"Shall I go?" asked Clifford.
+
+"No. Just to the other end of the room."
+
+He obeyed, and fell into the depths of a fat arm-chair.
+
+"That you, Nigel? How is it all going on? Madeline hasn't heard from him
+lately--not for ages."
+
+"Quite so," answered Nigel's voice. "I've found out something I want you
+to know. It isn't really serious--at least I'm pretty sure I can put it
+right, but I'd like to see you about it; it wouldn't take you a moment."
+
+"But is it a thing that may make any difference?" she asked rather
+anxiously.
+
+"No. Not if it's taken in time," he answered.
+
+"Oh, can't you 'phone about it, Nigel?"
+
+"Not very well, my dear. It really wouldn't take you a minute to hear
+about it _viva voce_."
+
+"But you can't keep on calling every day!" cried Bertha, exasperated.
+
+"Quite so. Couldn't you go in for a few minutes to-morrow morning at the
+Grosvenor Gallery in Bond Street? Say at about eleven or twelve? I won't
+keep you five minutes, I promise, and you can tell me if you approve of
+my plan."
+
+"Very well, I'll do that. Quarter-past eleven," added Bertha.
+
+"Only one thing, Bertha, don't tell anyone--not a soul."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I'll explain when I see you. But you mustn't mention it. It's
+nothing--two seconds."
+
+"Oh, all right! But why so many mysteries? You might just as well tell
+me now on the telephone."
+
+"I'm afraid I can't; I have to show you a letter."
+
+"I suppose Rupert has been seeing Moona Chivvey again? Is that it?"
+
+"Well, yes. But that's not all. Not a word to Madeline! Isn't it
+curious, Bertha, troubles about women are always the same. Either _they_
+want _you_ to marry _them,_ or _they_ won't marry _you_!"
+
+"Oh, really? Good-bye."
+
+"How brilliant you're looking, Bertha! You've got your hair done in that
+mysterious new way again."
+
+"How on _earth_ can you know through the telephone?"
+
+"Why, easily. By your voice. You talk in a different way--to suit it."
+
+"Do I? How funny! Good-bye."
+
+Ten minutes later Percy came in.
+
+He seemed pleased to see his young brother.
+
+"What's that book you've brought, Cliff?"
+
+"It's 'The New Arabian Nights.'"
+
+Percy laughed.
+
+"Oh yes, I know--the copy I gave Bertha. Have you decided to let her
+have it back on mature consideration?"
+
+"Oh, I say, Percy! Come off the roof, there's a good chap," said the
+boy, blushing a little.
+
+"I think I shall have to take a holiday from chambers to-morrow," Percy
+said. "Shall we take him out to lunch, Bertha?"
+
+"By all means; or, at any rate, you take him, Percy."
+
+"Are you engaged in the morning?" he asked her very quickly.
+
+"I ought to look in at my dressmaker's for a minute," she said, feeling
+angry with Nigel that he had made her promise to conceal even a few
+minutes of her day.
+
+No more was said on the subject.
+
+Presently, Percy went upstairs to his room and turned the key. He then
+took out of a drawer and placed in front of him, in their order, three
+rather curious-looking letters, written in typewriting on ordinary plain
+white notepaper. The first two, both of which began "_Dear Mr.
+Kellynch_," were four pages long, and gave some information in somewhat
+mysterious terms. The third one had no beginning, and merely mentioned
+an hour and a place where, he was told, he would find his wife on the
+following morning, if he wished to do so, in the company of an
+individual with the initials N. H. The letter further advised him to go
+there and find her and take steps to put a stop to the proceedings which
+had been watched for some time by somebody who signed the letter "your
+true and reliable friend."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The right thing to do, according to all unwritten laws of the conduct of
+a gentleman, would be to destroy such communications and at once forget
+them. To show them to her, Percy felt, would be degrading to himself and
+to such a woman as his wife, whom he now realised he placed on a
+pedestal. The idea of seeing the pedestal rock seemed to take the earth
+from under his feet. But not only that, he now felt that, though he
+hadn't known it, he loved her, not with a mild, half-patronising
+affection, but with the maddening jealousy of a lover in the most
+passionate stage of love. A man placed in his position nearly always
+thinks that it is the idea of being deceived that hurts the most.
+Particularly when the object of suspicion is his wife. Now he knew it
+was not that; he could forgive the deception; but he couldn't bear to
+think that any other man could think of her from that point of view at
+all. And if he found that the mere facts stated in the three letters
+were true, even if the inferences suggested were utterly false, he had
+made up his mind what to do. He would go and see Nigel on the subject,
+forbid him the house, saying that too frequent visits had caused talk,
+and never mention the subject to Bertha. That was his present plan.
+Perhaps it would not be possible to carry it out, but that was his idea.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The fact that Bertha had been vague about her morning engagement--for it
+was really unlike her not to seem pleased at the idea of spending the
+whole day with him and the little brother--so agonised Percy that he
+pretended to have a headache and saw practically nothing of Bertha till
+the next day. He said then that he would go to chambers, meet Clifford
+at Prince's and come home after lunch and take Bertha out somewhere.
+This was to leave her perfectly free, so that she need not alter any
+arrangements. He wished to see what she would do.
+
+It was a glorious morning, and Percy felt rather mean and miserable and
+unlike the day as he left the house.
+
+Bertha was already dressed, looking deliciously fresh and pink, and
+sparkling and fair as the sunshine. A second of acute physical jealousy
+made him remark rather bitterly before he left that her hat was a little
+bit striking, wasn't it? Upon which she at once, in her good-tempered,
+amiable way (only too delighted that he should have noticed anything in
+her toilette even to object to it), plucked the white feather out of the
+black hat and put a little coat on over her dress, so as to look less
+noticeable.
+
+At a quarter past eleven Percy paid his shilling at the gallery, walked
+in, looking slowly at the drawings on the walls in the narrow passage
+that led to the rooms.
+
+The moment he reached the first door on the left-hand side, which was
+open, he saw through it, exactly opposite to him, seated on a sofa,
+Bertha, looking up and chattering to Nigel Hillier, who was looking down
+in a protecting manner, and listening with great interest to her
+conversation.
+
+Neither of them saw him.
+
+The pain of finding one part of the letter true was so startling and
+terrible that he dared not look another moment; a second more, and he
+might have made a scandal, perhaps for ever after to be regretted, and
+possibly entirely groundless.
+
+He walked straight out of the gallery again, and drove to Sloane Street
+in a taxi. During the drive he felt extraordinary sensations. He
+remembered an occasion when he had been to a dentist as a little boy,
+and the strange new suffering it had caused him. Then he thought that
+when he got home, he would feel better. Instead of that the sight of the
+familiar house was unbearable agony; he could not endure to go into it;
+he drove back again to the club of which both he and Nigel were members,
+and where Nigel was generally to be found before lunch. There he tried
+to wait and master himself a little; it was peculiar torture to have
+left them there now. He felt he would like to go back to the gallery and
+at least spoil their morning. But that, his sound sense told him, would
+be a mistake. He would wait there till Nigel came in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+A LOVE SCENE
+
+
+Percy waited on and on, minute after minute, half-hour after half-hour,
+reading the morning papers, staring with apparent deep interest at the
+pictures in the weekly journals--rather depressing foreshortened
+snapshots of society at racecourses. These people, caught unawares,
+seemed to be all feet and parasols, or smiles and muffs. Then, feeling
+rather exhausted, he ordered a drink, and forgot it, and smoked a
+cigarette. When he saw anyone he knew, he put on an absent-minded air,
+and avoided the friend's eye. He looked at his watch as if in sudden
+anxiety, and found that it was half-past one. This was the time he was
+to meet his little brother at Prince's. He made inquiries and found that
+Nigel was expected to lunch at the club. It was horrible! He could not
+leave the boy at the restaurant waiting for him, and he was not up to
+the mark either, at the moment, for seeing Nigel Hillier; he felt as if
+the top of his head had been smashed in. Yet his common-sense and
+reasoning power gradually prevailed over his emotion. And as he sat
+there, Percy changed his mind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At first he had thought it would be cowardly to her to attack his wife
+on the subject; it was the man with whom he should quarrel. And now it
+seemed to him different. His point of view altered. It seemed only fair
+now to give Bertha herself a chance of explaining matters. Thinking of
+her fresh, frank expression that morning, and looking back, he began to
+have, by some sort of second sight, a vision of his own stupid
+injustice. No! he must have been wrong! Nigel may have been a scoundrel,
+or--anything--but it couldn't be Bertha's fault. She may have been
+imprudent, out of pure innocence; that was all.
+
+He got up, and now he decided to take his brother out to lunch, and then
+go back and talk to Bertha.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+During the noisy, crowded lunch at Prince's, which entertained the boy
+so much that there was no necessity for the elder brother to talk, Percy
+came to a firm decision.
+
+He would never tell Bertha anything at all about the anonymous letters.
+
+He would tell her that he had seen her this morning at the gallery--as
+if by accident; but he would frankly admit a jealousy, even a suspicion
+of Nigel.
+
+He would ask Bertha in so many words not to see Nigel again.
+
+If she would agree to this, and if she were as affectionate as formerly,
+what did the rest matter? The letters must have been slanders; who
+_could_ have written them? But, after all, what did it matter? If Bertha
+consented to do as he asked, they were untrue, and that was everything.
+He and Bertha would drop Hillier, and he would put the whole horrible
+business behind him; he would wipe it out, and forget it. The mere
+thought of such joy made him tremble ... it seemed too glorious to be
+real, and as they approached the house again he began to believe in it.
+
+Clifford had thoroughly enjoyed himself. He felt quite grown-up as he
+parted with Percy at Sloane Street, and drove home, singing to himself
+the refrain of Pickering's favourite song: "How much wood would a
+woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck would chuck wood?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Percy, what is the matter?" Bertha asked anxiously, as she looked at
+him.
+
+He had gone through a great deal that morning and looked rather worn
+out. ... He spoke in a lower voice than usual.
+
+"Look here, Bertha," he said, "I have something to tell you."
+
+She waited, then, at a pause, said, rather pathetically:
+
+"Oh, Percy, do tell me what it is? I've felt so worried about you
+lately. You seem to be changed. ... I have felt very pained and hurt.
+Tell me what it is."
+
+Percy looked at her. She was looking sweet, anxious and sincere. She
+leant forward, holding out her little hand. ... If this was not genuine,
+then nothing on earth ever could be!
+
+"Tell me, Percy," she repeated, looking up at him, as he stood by the
+fire, with that little movement of her fair head that he used to say was
+like a canary.
+
+Percy looked down at her; all his imposingness, all his air of
+importance, and his occasional tinge of pompousness, had entirely
+vanished. He was simple, angry and unhappy.
+
+"I found I hadn't got to go to chambers early this morning after all, so
+I walked down Bond Street. I went into the Grosvenor Gallery. I saw you
+there. ... It seemed very strange you hadn't told me. Why didn't you?
+Why didn't you? Bertha, don't tell me anything that isn't true!"
+
+Her eyes sparkled. She stood up beaming radiant joy. She went to him
+impulsively; everything was all right; he was jealous!
+
+"Oh, Percy! I can explain it all."
+
+Hastily, eagerly, impulsively, with the most obvious honesty and
+frankness, she told him of how Nigel had promised to help her with
+Madeline, of how he had planned with her to make Madeline happy; she
+told him of the variable and unaccountable conduct of Rupert Denison to
+Madeline, of his marked attention at one moment, his coldness at
+another. Foolishly, she had been led to believe that Nigel could make
+things all right. Now this morning Nigel had asked her to meet him to
+tell her that Rupert had been seen choosing hats for another girl.
+Bertha was in doubt whether she ought to tell Madeline, and make her try
+and cure her devotion. And Bertha had thought it all the kinder of Nigel
+because his brother, Charlie, was very much in love with her.
+
+Percy stopped her in the middle of the story. He could take no sort of
+interest in it at present. He was much too happy and relieved; he was in
+the seventh heaven.
+
+"Yes ... yes ... all right, dear. Only you oughtn't to have made an
+appointment with him. Only promise that never again---- You see, things
+can be misconstrued. And, anyhow, I don't like to see you with Nigel
+Hillier. Frankly, I can't stand it. You'll make this sacrifice for
+me--if it is one, Bertha?"
+
+He had quite decided to conceal all about the letters.
+
+"Indeed, indeed I will; and I know I was wrong," she said. "I mean it's
+no good trying to help people too much. They must play their own game.
+You understand, don't you? Nigel was only to show me a letter he had
+written inviting the other girl to lunch--to take her away from Rupert.
+But it's all nonsense, and I'll have nothing more to do with it."
+
+"Then that's all right," said Percy, sitting down, with a great sigh of
+relief.
+
+"You didn't really think for a moment, seriously, that I ever--that I
+didn't--oh, you never stopped knowing how much I love you?" she asked,
+with tears in her eyes.
+
+Percy said that he had not exactly thought that. Also, he was not
+jealous--that was not the word--he merely wished her to promise never to
+see or speak to Nigel again as long as they lived, and never to
+recognise him if she met him: that was all. He was perfectly
+reasonable.
+
+"It's perhaps a little bit difficult in some ways, dearest. But I
+promise you faithfully to do my very, very best. And this I absolutely
+swear--I will never see him without your approving and knowing all about
+it. But as I shouldn't exactly like him to think you thought anything--I
+mean--I think you must leave it a little to me--to my tact, to get rid
+of him; and trust me. And I want you to know that I shouldn't care if I
+never saw him again. I don't even like him. And I really don't think he
+cares for me; I'm quite certain it's your fancy."
+
+"Can you give me your word of honour that he never----"
+
+"Never, by word or look," answered Bertha.
+
+"That's all right," said Percy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha sat on the arm of his chair and leant her head against his
+shoulder.
+
+At that moment he thought he had never known what happiness was before.
+
+Then she said:
+
+"It's all right now, then, Percy? That was all, and the cloud's gone?"
+
+"Quite, absolutely," he answered, mentally tearing the letters into
+little bits.
+
+Then she said:
+
+"Percy, of course you never really thought ... you never could think
+that I meant to deceive you in any way. ... But supposing Nigel had had
+any treacherous ideas--let us say, supposing that Nigel, though he's
+married, and all that--suppose you found out that he had liked me, and
+wanted to spoil our happiness? ... I mean, suppose you found out that he
+had been making love to me? ... What would you have done?"
+
+"I should have killed him," replied Percy. Could a man have said
+anything that would please a woman as much as this primitive assertion?
+
+Bertha threw her arms round his neck. She was perfectly happy. He was in
+love with her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+RECONCILIATION
+
+
+Bertha decided it was better to curtail Nigel's visits and make them
+fewer gradually; she had quite convinced Percy of her sincerity, and he
+also had come to the conclusion that it would be foolish and _infra dig_
+to let the jealousy be suspected. He trusted her again now; and they
+were both deeply and intensely happy. Being ashamed of the letters,
+Percy said nothing about them; in a day or two he had come to the
+conclusion that he would leave it entirely to Bertha's tact.
+
+"All I ask is," he said, "that you will see him as little and as seldom
+as you can, without making too much fuss about it, or letting him know
+what I thought."
+
+"And I promise to do that," she said. "I long never to see him again.
+It's only on account of Madeline I wanted to have one more little talk
+with him--about her and Rupert. After that I'll manage without him, I
+assure you. I swear not to give him anything more to do for me. But
+what I can't understand, dear, is what put the idea into your head."
+
+"Never mind. You were seeing him too often. And, remember, I know that
+he was in love with you once and wanted to marry you."
+
+"But, dear boy, that was ten years ago, and he married somebody else."
+
+"Which he may regret by now. Well, I trust all to your tact, Bertha."
+
+"He's coming to-day," Bertha said. "And then I'm going to make him
+understand I no longer want his help."
+
+"Right."
+
+Percy went out, looking very happy. He did not forget to kiss her now,
+and he himself had sent the large basket of flowers that Nigel nearly
+fell over when he came in the afternoon.
+
+"A new admirer?" asked Nigel.
+
+"No, an old one. So you say that you met Rupert buying a hat for Miss
+Chivvey, and saw them the next day walking together, and she was wearing
+it."
+
+"Yes. And, as I told you, I thought this rather serious, so I wrote and
+invited the young lady to lunch with me."
+
+"Did she accept?"
+
+"That is what I've come to tell you about to-day. She was engaged, but
+asked me to invite her another time."
+
+"Exactly. Now, Nigel, I want to tell you something. I think I've been
+doing wrong intriguing for Madeline, and it hasn't been fair to her
+really. I've decided to tell her what you told me about Rupert, and then
+leave things to take their course. And I oughtn't to countenance asking
+the other girl to lunch. It was horrid of me--I'm ashamed of myself,
+both on account of her and of Mary. Don't do it; I'd rather not."
+
+Nigel looked up at her sharply.
+
+"Do these sudden and violent scruples mean simply that you don't want me
+any more?"
+
+"A little," she replied.
+
+"I've noticed you've seemed very cold and unkind to me the last week or
+so," he said. "You seem to be trying to change our relations."
+
+"I don't see why we should have any relations," answered Bertha. "After
+all, I know instinctively that Mary doesn't like me."
+
+"What in heaven's name does that matter?" he asked.
+
+"A good deal to me."
+
+There was a moment's silence.
+
+Nigel looked surprised and more hurt than she would have expected. Then
+he said:
+
+"All right, Bertha. I hope I can take a hint. I won't bother you any
+more. I won't try to help you in anything till you ask me."
+
+She was silent.
+
+Then he went on:
+
+"Might I venture to ask whether you suspect I've been making the most of
+our plans for Madeline to see as much of you as I could?"
+
+"Oh, I didn't say that."
+
+"If you had, perhaps you would have been right," he said, but seeing her
+annoyed expression he changed his tone, and said:
+
+"No, my dear, truly I only wanted to do a good turn for you and your
+friend. It's off now, that's all. I sha'n't interfere again."
+
+He stood up.
+
+She hesitated for one moment.
+
+"Do you think Rupert has not been sincere with Madeline?"
+
+"I can't say. I wouldn't go so far as that. I think he varies--likes the
+contrast between the two. But if he decides to marry, I don't think he'd
+propose to Miss Chivvey. Well, good-bye. I won't call again till you ask
+me."
+
+Her look of obvious relief as she smilingly held out her hand piqued him
+into saying:
+
+"I see you want your time to yourself more. Before I go, will you answer
+me one little question?"
+
+"Of course I will."
+
+He still held her hand. She took it away.
+
+"What is the question?"
+
+"Who sent you those flowers, Bertha?"
+
+"Have you any right to ask?"
+
+"I think so--as an old friend. They're compromisingly large, and there's
+a strange mixture of orchids and forget-me-nots, roses and gardenias
+that I don't quite like. It looks like somebody almost wildly
+lavish--not anxious to show off his taste, but sincerely throwing his
+whole soul into the basket."
+
+She laughed, pleased.
+
+"Who sent you the flowers, Bertha?"
+
+He was standing up by the door.
+
+"Percy," she answered.
+
+"Oh!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+"TANGO"
+
+
+Madeline had taken the gossip about Rupert and Miss Chivvey very
+bravely, but very seriously. It pained her terribly, but she was
+grateful to Bertha for telling her.
+
+A fortnight passed, during which she heard nothing from Rupert, and then
+one morning, the day after a dance, she called to see Bertha.
+
+Percy had had no more anonymous letters, and Nigel had remained away. He
+was deeply grateful, for he supposed Bertha had managed with perfect
+tact to stop the talk without giving herself away, or making him
+ridiculous.
+
+Bertha had never looked happier in her life. She was sitting smiling to
+herself, apparently in a dream, when her friend came in.
+
+"Bertha," she said, "I have some news. I danced the tango with Nigel's
+brother Charlie last night, and at the end--he really does dance
+divinely--what do you think happened? I had gone there perfectly
+miserable, for I had seen and heard nothing of Mr. Denison except that
+one letter after the Ballet--and then Charlie proposed to me, and I
+accepted him, like in a book!"
+
+Bertha took her hand.
+
+"My dear Madeline, how delightful! This is what I've always wanted. It's
+so utterly satisfactory in every way."
+
+"I know, and he is a darling boy. I was very frank with him, Bertha. I
+didn't say I was in love with him, and he said he would teach me to be."
+
+"It's frightfully satisfactory," continued Bertha. "Tell me Madeline,
+what made you change like this?"
+
+"Well, dear, I've been getting so unhappy: I feel Rupert has been simply
+playing with me. I heard the other day that _they_ were dining out alone
+together--I mean Rupert and that girl. I don't blame him, Bertha. It was
+I, in a sense, who threw myself at his head. I admired and liked him and
+gradually let myself go and get silly about him. But this last week I've
+been pulling myself together and seeing how hopeless it was, and just as
+I'd begun to conquer my feeling--to fight it down--then this nice dear
+boy, so frank and straightforward and sincere, came along, and--oh! I
+thought I should like it. To stop at home with mother after my sort of
+disappointment seemed too flat and miserable: I couldn't bear it. Now I
+shall have an object in life. But, Bertha," continued Madeline, putting
+her head on her shoulder, "I've been absolutely frank, you know."
+
+"I guessed you would be; it was like you. But I hope you didn't say too
+much to Charlie. It would be a pity to cloud his pleasure and spoil the
+sparkle of the fun. By the time you're choosing carpets together and
+receiving your third cruet-stand you will have forgotten such a person
+as Rupert Denison exists--except as a man who played a sort of
+character-part in the curtain-raiser of your existence."
+
+"Well, I hope so. But I did tell Charlie I was not in love with him, and
+he said he would try to make me."
+
+"I only hope that you're not doing it so that your mother should ask
+Rupert to the wedding? Not that I myself sha'n't enjoy that."
+
+"Honestly, Bertha, I don't think so. More than anything it's because I
+want an object in life."
+
+"Here's a letter from Nigel," said Bertha. "I expect he'll be making
+this an excuse to drop in again."
+
+"Yes; but you mustn't tease Percy, because everything happened just as
+you wanted it to," said Madeline. "I really was surprised at how
+suddenly and determinedly Charlie began again. He had seemed almost to
+give me up. He dances the tango so beautifully; I think it all came
+through that. We got on so splendidly at tango teas. At any rate, but
+for that I shouldn't have seen him so often."
+
+"It's a tango marriage," said Bertha.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha strongly suspected a little manoeuvring of Nigel's in the
+course of the last fortnight, but did not realise how much there had
+been of it. The day Bertha had practically said he was not to interfere
+any longer, Nigel thoroughly realised that Percy must be jealous. He was
+wildly annoyed at this, since it would be a great obstacle, besides
+proving Percy was in love, but he saw the urgency of falling in at once
+with her wish; not opposing it, being absolutely obedient to it. This
+was not the moment to push himself forward--to show his feelings. Tact
+and diplomacy must be used. Of course, he had not the faintest notion
+about Mary and her letters, but merely thought that a sudden relapse of
+conjugal affection on Percy's side--confound him!--and an attack of
+unwonted jealousy had made Percy say something to Bertha to cause her
+coldness.
+
+He remained away, but he thought of more than one plan to regain the old
+intimacy.
+
+Quite unscrupulously he played several little tricks, at least he made
+several remarks about one to the other, to make the apparently
+hesitating Rupert more interested in Miss Chivvey and less so in
+Madeline, while he urged his brother Charlie on, and insisted on his
+continuing his court. The result was quicker than he had expected, and
+after a very little diplomacy Charlie had found Madeline willing to
+accept him. As Madeline was to Bertha just like a sister, it was natural
+that they should meet again now, and in this letter Nigel asked
+permission to call and have a chat.
+
+Bertha agreed, for although she was slightly on her guard against the
+possibility of his wishing to flirt, she had not the faintest idea, as I
+have said, of Nigel's determined resolve.
+
+Nigel had been fairly unhappy of late. Caring very little for any of his
+other friends, and having this _idee fixe_ about Bertha--which became
+much stronger at the opposition and the idea of Percy's jealousy--he
+moped a good deal and had spent more time than usual with Mary. Nigel
+was one of those very rare men, who are becoming rarer and rarer, who,
+having passed the age of thirty-five, still regard love as the principal
+object of life. That Nigel did so was what made him so immensely popular
+with women as a rule. Women feel instinctively when this is so, and the
+man who makes sport, ambition or art his first interest, and women, and
+romance in general, a mere secondary pleasure, is never regarded with
+nearly the same favour as the man who values women chiefly, even though
+that very man is naturally far less reliable in his affection and almost
+invariably deceives them. To be placed in the background of life is what
+the average woman dislikes the most; she would rather be of the first
+importance as a woman even if she knows she has many rivals.
+
+Bertha was exceptional, in that she did not care for the Don Juan type
+of man, but was rather inclined to despise him. She would far rather
+have ambition, business, art, duty, any other object in life as her
+rival, than another woman.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Percy received no more of the singular typewritten letters. He kept
+those that he had locked up in a box. Mary had grown a little frightened
+at the apparent success of those she sent. She never heard anything
+about them, but she knew that Nigel had not been seeing Bertha since the
+note about the picture gallery. She began to be happier again. Nigel was
+a great deal more at home, though not more affectionate. And Mary was
+one of those women, by no means infrequent, who are fairly satisfied if
+they can, by hook or by crook, by any trick or any tyranny, keep the man
+they care for somehow under the same roof with them--if only his body is
+in the house, even if they know it is against his will, and that his
+soul is far away. She would far rather that his desire was elsewhere, if
+only _he_ were positively present--the one dread, really, being that he
+should be enjoying himself with anyone else. Mary preferred a thousand
+times a silent, sulky evening with Nigel going up to his room about the
+same time that she went to hers, than, as he used to be when they were
+first married, gay, affectionate and caressing to her, and then going
+out. She would gladly make him a kind of prisoner, even at the cost of
+making him almost dislike her, rather than give him his freedom--even to
+please him--a freedom which included the possibility of his seeing
+Bertha again.
+
+Although she was unjust and mistaken in her facts, it was, of course, a
+correct instinct that made her aware that Bertha was the great
+attraction--the one real object of passion in Nigel's life. But she was
+incapable of believing that Bertha did not care for him, that if she had
+she would never have flirted with the husband of another woman. Merely
+because Bertha was pretty and admired, Mary, with her strange
+narrow-minded bitterness, took it for granted that it was impossible
+that she could be also a delicately scrupulous, generous, and
+high-minded creature. But just as passion will make one singularly
+quick-sighted, it can also make one dense and stupid. Considering that
+Mary was madly in love with her own husband, it was absurd she should
+suppose it impossible that Bertha should take the slightest interest in
+hers. Of course Mary had heard that they were very devoted--if she had
+not, what would have been the use of writing the letters?--but she chose
+to believe that it was only on the husband's side, and that Bertha must
+of necessity be, of course, sly and deceitful. She hated Bertha
+violently, and yet she was by nature the kindest of women; only this one
+mania of hers completely altered her, and made her bitter, wild, hard
+and unscrupulous, stupid and clever, cowardly and reckless. A woman's
+jealousy of another woman is always sufficiently dreadful, but when the
+object of jealousy is hers by legal right, when the sense of personal
+property is added to it, then it is one of the most terrible and
+unreasonable things in nature.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+CLIFFORD'S HISTORICAL PLAY
+
+
+Bertha was sitting with her little brother-in-law. She was to give him
+half-an-hour, after which she expected a visit from Nigel.
+
+"What on earth is it, old boy?"
+
+She saw he had some rather untidy papers in his hand and was looking
+extremely self-conscious, so she spoke kindly and encouragingly.
+
+"Well, I daresay you noticed, Bertha, in my report, that history was
+very good."
+
+"I think I did," she said gravely. "If I recollect right the report
+said: 'History nearly up to the level of the form.'"
+
+"Oh, I say, was that all? Gracious! Well, anyhow, I've read a lot of
+history, and I'm fearfully keen about it. And, I say, my idea was, you
+see, I thought I'd write a historical play."
+
+"Oh! what a splendid idea!" cried Bertha, jumping up, looking very
+pleased, but serious. "Have you got it there, Cliff?"
+
+"Yes. Well, as a matter of fact, I have got a bit of it here."
+
+"Are you going to let me read it?"
+
+"Well, I don't think you can," he answered rather naively. "It's not
+quite clean enough; but I'll read a bit of it to you, if you don't mind.
+Er--you see--it's about Mary."
+
+"Which Mary?"
+
+"Oh, Bertha! what a question! As if I'd write about William and Mary,
+or--er--er--I beg your pardon--I mean the other Mary. No, Mary, Queen of
+Scots, is the only one who's any good for a play."
+
+"Well, go on, Clifford."
+
+"Well, it's a little about"--he spoke in a low, gruff voice--"at least
+partly about hawking. You know, the thing historical people used to
+do--on their wrists."
+
+"Oh yes, I know, I know! I beg your pardon, Clifford."
+
+"With birds, you know," he went on. "Oh, and I wanted to ask you, what
+time of the year _do_ people hawk?"
+
+"What time of the year? Oh, well, I should think almost any time, pretty
+well, whenever they liked, or whenever it was the fashion."
+
+"I see." He made a note. "Well, I hope you won't be fearfully bored,
+Bertha."
+
+"I say, Cliff, don't apologise so much. Get on with it."
+
+"Well, you see, it's a scene at a country inn to begin with."
+
+"Ah, I see. Yes, it would be," she murmured.
+
+"At a country inn, and this is how it begins. It's at a country inn, you
+see. 'Scene: a country inn. The mistress of the inn, a buxom-looking
+woman of middle age, is being busy about the inn. It is a country inn.
+She is making up the fire, polishing tankards, etc., drawing ale, etc.
+On extreme L. of stage is seated, near a tankard, a youth of some
+nineteen summers, who is sitting facing the audience, chin dropped, and
+apparently wrapped in thought.'"
+
+"Excuse me a moment, old chap, but that sounds as if his chin was
+wrapped in thought."
+
+"So it does; I'll change that. Thanks awfully for telling me, Bertha."
+
+"Not at all, dear."
+
+"But it is frightfully decent of you."
+
+"All right. Get on."
+
+"'At the back of the stage R. are seated two men; one of some eight and
+twenty summers the other of some six and twenty years old. They are
+seated in the corners of the stage and in apparently earnest
+conversation.' (Now the dialogue begins, Bertha, listen):
+
+"'YOUTH: Are you there, mistress? Is my ale nigh on ready? Zounds, I'm
+mighty thirsty, I am.'
+
+"'MISTRESS: Ay, ay, great Scot! here's your ale. You can't expect to be
+served before the quality.'"
+
+"What did Pickering think of this?" interrupted Bertha.
+
+"Pickering! Oh! I wouldn't show it to a chap like that. At any rate, not
+unless you think it's all right, Bertha."
+
+"Why, my dear boy, you'd better tell me the plot, I think, before you
+read me any more."
+
+"Mr. Nigel Hillier," announced the servant.
+
+Nigel sprang brightly in (just a little agitated though he managed to
+hide it), Bertha took her toes off the sofa, Clifford took up his play
+and shoved it into his pocket with a slight scowl.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+A SECOND PROPOSAL
+
+
+The day after Madeline's engagement two letters were handed to her. One
+in Charlie's handwriting, short and affectionate; full of the exuberance
+of the newly affianced, touchingly happy. The other one she opened,
+feeling somewhat moved, as she recognised the handwriting of Rupert
+Denison. To her utter astonishment she found it was four sheets of his
+exquisite little handwriting, and it began thus:
+
+    "MY DEAR, MY VERY DEAR MADELINE,--The last note I had from
+    you--now nearly a month ago--came to me like a gift of silver
+    roses. I did not answer it, but during the dark days in which I
+    have not seen you, I have been learning to know myself. You
+    wondered, perhaps, how I was occupied, why you did not hear from
+    me again--at least I hope you did. ("I didn't, for I knew only
+    too well," Madeline murmured to herself.) Now I have learnt to
+    understand myself. Sometimes almost inhumanly poetic you have
+    seemed to me, and others; when I remembered your simple refined
+    beauty you suggested the homelike atmosphere that is my dream."
+
+She started and went on reading.
+
+    "Madeline, do you understand, all this time, though perhaps I
+    hardly knew it myself, I loved you. I love you and shall never
+    change. It is my instinct to adore the admirable, and I know now
+    that you are the most adorable of creatures. No words can
+    describe your wonderfulness, so I send you my heart instead.
+
+    "I think, dear, our life together will be a very beautiful one.
+    It will be a great joy to me to lead you into beautiful paths.
+    How glad I shall be to see the bright look of your eyes, when
+    you greet me after this letter! What a perfect companion you
+    will be! Write at once. I have much more to say when we meet.
+    When shall this be? Your ever devoted and idolising
+
+        "RUPERT.
+
+    "_P.S._--I propose not to make our engagement public quite yet,
+    but to keep our happiness to ourselves for a few weeks, and be
+    married towards the end of the summer. What do you say, my
+    precious Madeline?"
+
+Madeline was at once delighted and horrified. How characteristic the
+letter was! Why had she not waited? There was no doubt about it, she had
+made a mistake. Rupert was the man she loved--notwithstanding his taking
+everything so for granted. Charlie must be sacrificed. But she must tell
+Rupert what had happened, of course.
+
+After sending a telegram to Rupert asking him to meet her at a picture
+gallery, for she could not bear asking him to call until everything was
+settled up, the bewildered girl rushed off to see Bertha.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha took in the situation at once. Madeline had only accepted Charlie
+in despair, thinking and believing that Rupert cared for another girl.
+It was madness, equally unfair to herself and to Charlie, to go on with
+the marriage now. Bertha quite agreed, though she grieved for the boy,
+and regretted how things had turned. ... But, after all, Madeline cared
+for Rupert and she could not be expected to throw away her happiness now
+it was offered to her.
+
+Bertha advised complete frankness all round. The only thing at which she
+hesitated a little was Madeline's intention of telling of her engagement
+to Rupert. She feared a little the effect on the complicated subtlety of
+that conscientious young man. ... However, it was to be.
+
+Fortunately no one as yet knew of the engagement except the very nearest
+relatives. Madeline's mother would only regret bitterly that Madeline
+could not accept them both, it being very rare nowadays for two
+agreeable and eligible young men to propose to one girl in two days.
+
+Nigel was furious and had no patience with these choppings and
+changings, as he called them.
+
+Charlie took it bravely and wrote Madeline a very generous and noble
+letter, which touched her, but it did not alter her intention. She had
+just received it when she went to meet Rupert.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The day which had dragged on with extraordinary excitement and with what
+seemed curious length had just declined in that hour between six and
+seven when the vitality seems to become somewhat lowered; when it is
+neither day nor evening, the stimulation of tea is over and one has not
+begun to dress for dinner.
+
+At this strange moment Madeline burst in again on Bertha and said:
+
+"Bertha, isn't it terrible! I've told him everything and he refuses me.
+He's sent me back. He says if I'm engaged to Charlie it's my duty to
+marry him. He's fearfully hurt with me and shocked at my conduct to
+Charlie. Oh, it's too dreadful; I'm heartbroken!"
+
+"Oh, what an irritating creature!" cried Bertha. "It's just the sort of
+thing he would do. I'd better see him at once, Madeline."
+
+"You can't; he's going to Venice to-night," said Madeline, and burst
+into tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+MORE ABOUT RUPERT
+
+
+Rupert had gone through a great many changes during the last few weeks.
+He had begun to grow rather captivated by Miss Chivvey and in his
+efforts to polish, refine and educate her had become rather carried away
+himself. But towards the end she began to show signs of rebellion; she
+was bored, though impressed. He took her to a serious play and explained
+it all the time, during which she openly yawned. Finally, when she
+insisted on his seeing a statuette made of her by her artistic friend,
+an ignorant, pretentious little creature, known as Mimsie, they
+positively had a quarrel.
+
+"Well, I don't care what you say; I think it's very pretty," when Rupert
+pointed out faults that a child could easily have seen.
+
+"So it may be, my dear child--not that I think it is. But it's
+absolutely without merit; it's very very bad. It could hardly be worse.
+If she went all over London I doubt if she could find a more ridiculous
+thing calling itself a work of art. Can't you see it's like those little
+figures they used to have on old-fashioned Twelfth Cakes, made of
+sugar."
+
+"No, I can't. Shut up! I mayn't know quite so much as you, but ever
+since I was a child everybody's always said I was very artistic."
+
+They were sitting in her mother's drawing-room in Camden Hill. Rupert
+glanced round it: it was a deplorable example of misdirected aims and
+mistaken ambitions; a few yards of beaded curtains which separated it
+from another room gratified Moona with the satisfactory sensation that
+her surroundings were Oriental. As a matter of fact, the decoration was
+so commonplace and vulgar that to attempt to describe it would be
+painful to the writer whilst having no sort of effect on the reader,
+since it was almost indescribable. From the decorative point of view,
+the room was the most unmeaning of failures, the most complete of
+disasters.
+
+Rupert had hoped, nevertheless, to cultivate her taste, and educate her
+generally. He was most anxious of all to explain to her that, so far
+from being artistic, she was the most pretentious of little Philistines.
+Why, indeed, should she be anything else? It was the most irritating
+absurdity that she should think she was, or wish to be.
+
+Rupert was growing weary of this, and beginning to think his object was
+hopeless.
+
+A certain amount of excitement that she had created in him by her
+brusque rudeness, her high spirits, even the jarring of her loud laugh,
+was beginning to lose its effect; or rather the effect was changed.
+Instead of attracting, it irritated him.
+
+About another small subject they had a quarrel--she was beginning to
+order him about, to regard him as her young man, her property--and was
+getting accustomed to what had surprised her at first--that he didn't
+make love to her. She had ordered him to take her somewhere and he had
+refused on the ground that he wanted to stop at home and think!
+
+She let herself go, and when Moona Chivvey lost her temper it was not
+easily forgotten. She insulted him, called him a blighter, a silly ass,
+a mass of affectation.
+
+He accepted it with gallant irony, bowing with a chivalrous humility
+that drove her nearly mad, but he never spoke to her again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Perhaps nothing less than this violent scene would have shaken Rupert
+into examining his own feelings, and with a tremendous rebound he saw
+that he was in love with Madeline, and decided to marry her at once. How
+delighted the dear child would be!
+
+He had seen very little of her lately, and he appreciated her all the
+more.
+
+In her was genuine desire for culture; longing to learn; real refinement
+and intelligence, charm and grace, if not exactly beauty. Ah, those
+sweet, sincere brown eyes! Rupert would live to see her all she should
+be, and there was not the slightest doubt about her happiness with him.
+It never occurred to him for a single moment that anyone else could have
+been trying to take his place. Far less still that she should have
+thought of listening to any other man on earth but himself. When she
+came and told him all that had happened, the shock was great. He had
+never cared for her so much. But he declined to allow her to break her
+engagement; she could not play fast and loose with this unfortunate
+young man, Charlie Hillier, and although she declared, with tears, that
+she should break it off in any case, and never see him again, Rupert
+kept to his resolution, and started for Paris that night.
+
+In answer to one more passionate and pathetic letter from her, he
+consented to write to her as a friend in a fortnight, but he said she
+must have known her own mind when she accepted Charlie.
+
+Rupert clearly felt that he had been very badly treated; he said he
+never would have thought it of her; it was practically treachery.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When he went away he felt very tired, and had had enough, for the
+present, at any rate, of all girls and their instruction. Girls were
+fools.
+
+He looked forward to the soothing consolations of the gaieties of Paris.
+He was not the first to believe that he could leave all his troubles and
+tribulations this side of the Channel.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+"A SPECIAL FAVOUR"
+
+
+"I admire Madeline's conduct very much. I think it was splendid how she
+stood up to all the reproaches, and even ridicule; she told me that she
+had once, and only once, in her life been untrue to herself (she meant
+in accepting Charlie), and since then she has spoken the absolute truth
+to everybody about it all. She has been very plucky, and very
+straightforward, and only good can come of it. Honesty and pluck,
+especially for a girl--it's made so difficult for girls--they're the
+finest things in the world, _I_ think."
+
+Bertha was speaking to Nigel.
+
+He had remained away for what seemed to him an extraordinarily long
+time. He was afraid that she was slipping out of his life, without even
+noticing it. Stopping away until she missed him was a complete failure,
+since she _didn't_ miss him. And the day was approaching for the party
+Mary had consented to give. He knew that Bertha had accepted but was
+afraid she didn't mean to come. That would be too sickening! To have all
+that worry with Mary, all that silly trouble and fuss for a foolish
+entertainment that he detested, all for nothing at all! And Mary was
+secretly enjoying the fact that she felt absolutely certain Percy would
+never let her come to Nigel's house. She did not suppose Percy had
+guessed the writer of the letters; but he must have thought his wife was
+talked about, and some effect certainly they had had; for in the last
+few weeks, she happened to know for a fact, Nigel had neither called on
+or met Mrs. Kellynch. This afternoon she knew nothing of, for her
+suspicions were beginning to fade, and she was not, at present, having
+him followed. Nigel had taken his chance and dropped in to tea and found
+luck was on his side--Bertha had just come in from a drive with
+Madeline.
+
+"It's all very well," he answered, "to say you admire her conduct, her
+bravery, and all that! Whom had she to fight against? Only her mother,
+whom she isn't a bit afraid of, and Charlie, who, poor chap, is more
+afraid of her. The engagement wasn't even public before she broke it
+off."
+
+"Yes; but, Nigel, it was very frank of her to tell everything so openly
+to Charlie. And now, poor girl, she's very unhappy, but very
+courageous--she's absolutely resolved never to marry. She says she's
+lost her Rupert by her own faults, and it serves her right."
+
+"And suppose Rupert goes teaching English to an Italian girl at Venice,
+or gives her history lessons, or anything? Now he's once thought of
+marrying, he may marry his third pupil. Wouldn't Charlie have a chance
+then?"
+
+"Never, unfortunately," Bertha replied.
+
+"Do you think she'd wait on the chance that Rupert might have a
+divorce?"
+
+"Nigel, how horrid you are to sneer like that. You never appreciated
+Madeline!"
+
+"I think I did, my dear, considering I was especially keen on her
+marrying my brother, even when I knew she liked somebody else."
+
+"Oh, that was only for him."
+
+"Or, perhaps, do you think a little for me? I might have felt if my
+brother married your greatest friend that we were sort of relations," he
+said, with a laugh.
+
+Bertha glanced at the clock.
+
+"You can't send me away just this minute," he said. "You like honesty
+and frankness, and I've honestly come to ask you--are you coming to my
+party?"
+
+Bertha paused a moment.
+
+"Why?" she said. "Do you very particularly want me to?"
+
+"Very. And I'll tell you the reason. It's to please Mary."
+
+"Why should Mary care?"
+
+"Bertha, I give you my word that she'll be terribly disappointed and
+offended if you don't. And"--he waited a moment--"I hardly know how to
+explain--it'll do me harm if you don't come--you and Percy. I can't
+exactly explain. Do me this good turn, Bertha. A special favour, won't
+you?"
+
+He was artfully trying to suggest what he supposed to be the exact
+contrary to the fact. He knew Mary would be wild with joy if Bertha did
+not come, though he had no idea how extremely astonished and furious she
+would be if she should arrive, considering she had accepted. Of course
+in reality Mary thought nothing of the acceptance. She was both certain
+and determined that her "door would not be darkened" by Bertha's
+presence.
+
+Bertha had not intended to go since she saw Percy's pleasure and relief
+at the cessation of the intimacy. But now? After all, Percy couldn't
+mind going in with her for a few minutes if she begged him.
+
+"If you tell me it'll do you a good turn, Nigel--but I don't
+understand!"
+
+"Do you wish me to explain?"
+
+"No, I don't. I'll take your word. But all the more I don't want you to
+be always calling. I'm afraid Mary doesn't like me."
+
+"It isn't that exactly."
+
+Bertha thought of her own happiness with Percy. Her warm, kind heart
+made her say gently:
+
+"Nigel, I hope you're nice and considerate to Mary? You make her happy?"
+
+"Doesn't this look like it?" he answered. "She'll be in a state if you
+don't turn up." He sighed. "I've never said a word about it, but she's
+rather trying and tiresome if you want to know."
+
+"Then I'm very, very sorry for her," said Bertha, "and you can't do
+enough for her. ... Why, with those lovely children I'm sure she'd be
+ideally happy if----"
+
+"Oh, you think, of course, it's my fault. It never occurs to you whether
+I'm happy!"
+
+A look from her which she tried to repress reminded him of his
+deliberate choice. He thought the time had come to make her a little
+sorry for him, knowing her extreme tenderness of heart. He spoke in a
+lower voice, and looked away.
+
+"If I'm sometimes a bit miserable, it serves me right."
+
+"Be good to her," said Bertha.
+
+"I'll do anything on earth you'll tell me."
+
+"What are the children's names?"
+
+"Nigel and Marjorie."
+
+"Darling pets, I suppose?"
+
+"Isn't it extraordinary, Bertha," he said. "I've no right to say it to
+you, but that's my great trouble."
+
+"What?"
+
+"She doesn't care much about them."
+
+"I don't believe it," said Bertha, shaking her head. "It's you who are
+mistaken."
+
+"Am I?"
+
+"Nigel, remember, I know you pretty well."
+
+"And you think I'm trying to make you sorry for me?"
+
+"I won't say that. But you ought to be happy, and so ought your wife."
+
+He spoke in a different tone, with his usual cheery smile.
+
+"Well, if you will grace our entertainment, I promise we will be happy.
+Do come, Bertha!" He was taking all this trouble simply so as not to
+have a boring evening at his own home!
+
+"Very well, Nigel," she answered, with a kind, frank smile. "I'll come.
+Lately Percy's had so much work that in the evenings he hasn't been very
+keen on going out to parties."
+
+"And you don't go without him?" he asked with curiosity.
+
+"No. Aren't I unfashionable?"
+
+"You're delightful."
+
+"Good-bye," she said, holding out her hand.
+
+He took it, and held it, saying:
+
+"And now I sha'n't see you again until a few minutes at the party, and
+heaven knows when after that."
+
+"I'll bring Madeline. Shall I?"
+
+"Oh yes, do. It'll be _some_ party, as the Americans say, and Charlie
+won't be there."
+
+"Good-bye again."
+
+"What are you going to wear?" he asked, in his old, brotherly voice,
+lingering by the door.
+
+"Salmon-coloured chiffon with a mayonnaise sash," she answered, fairly
+pushing him out of the room. "Do go."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A DEVOTED WIFE
+
+
+To anyone who knew Percy Kellynch and his wife, it would have been a
+matter of some surprise to observe the extreme enthusiasm and devotion
+that she showed for him. He was an excellent fellow, and had many good
+qualities, but he was not mentally by any means anything at all
+extraordinary; she was a very much more highly organised being in every
+possible way than he was. Percy was exceedingly kind and straight, yet
+there were, doubtless, many thousands of men exactly like him in
+England. In his rather simple and commonplace point of view he was,
+perhaps more like an ordinary English soldier than a barrister. He did
+not worship false gods, but, not being a soldier, and having perhaps
+learnt more of life in some respects than they generally do, he was
+inclined to be rather surprised at his own cleverness. In a quiet way he
+had a high opinion of himself. He had been disposed to be a superior
+young man at twenty, and now, at thirty, he was not without a tinge of
+self-satisfaction, even pompousness. That his quickly discerning, subtle
+little wife should like and appreciate his good qualities; that she
+should, being of an affectionate nature, value him, was not surprising;
+but that, with her sense of humour and remarkable quickness, even depth
+of intellect, she should absolutely worship and adore him--for it
+amounted to that--was rather a matter of astonishment. But it must be
+remembered that her first love, Nigel Hillier, when she was eighteen,
+was, obviously, just exactly what one would have expected to dazzle
+her--quick, lively, fascinating and witty--this early romance had been a
+terrible disappointment. Bertha had bravely been prepared to wait for
+years, or to marry him on the moment; she had not the faintest idea that
+the money difficulties would be used to put an end to it on _his_ side.
+When he had broken it off, saying that he feared her father was right,
+and that it was for her sake, she was terribly pained, seeing at once
+that his love was not of the same quality as hers. But when, in less
+than a week after that, he told her of his other engagement, it very
+nearly broke her heart, as the phrase goes. Yet she cured herself; and
+considering how young she was, she had an astonishing power of
+self-control; she was almost cured of her love, if not her grief, in a
+fortnight! She accepted Percy at the time without romance, though with a
+great liking, and looking up to him with a certain trust, but very soon
+the good qualities, in which he differed so remarkably from Nigel, and
+even the points in which he was deficient and in which Nigel excelled,
+made her care for him more. As the years went on, Bertha, who could do
+nothing by halves, began to adore Percy more and more. She thought
+absolutely nothing of Nigel at all, so very little that she had let him
+dangle about without a thought of the past, being under the impression
+that he was contented in his married life. When he began again to find
+excuses to see her, and to start a sort of friendship, she did not
+discourage it, for the very reason that she wanted him to see that
+chapter in her life was absolutely closed and forgotten.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+His extreme desire that she should come to their entertainment, his
+various implications--that Mary should think there was something in it
+if she didn't come--then this new suggestion that he was not happy at
+home, and, on looking back, Percy's extraordinary behaviour, suddenly
+made her see things in a different light. She saw that Nigel probably
+now imagined himself in love with her, and that it was not entirely
+Percy's imagination; that it was even more necessary than she had
+thought to put an end to the friendship. It made her furious when she
+thought of it--the selfishness, the treachery--meanly to throw her over
+because Mary was rich, and afterwards to try and come back and spoil
+both their homes in amusing himself by a romance with her. Even if
+Bertha had not cared for her husband, Nigel would have been the very
+last man in the world she could have looked upon from that point of
+view. Amusing as he was, she never thought of him without a slightly
+contemptuous smile. And she loved Percy so very much; he was so entirely
+without self-interest: he might have a certain amount of harmless
+vanity, but he was purely unworldly, generous, broadminded and good, and
+his own advantage was the very last thing that ever entered his head.
+
+Until the trouble about Nigel she had feared he was growing cold, but
+Percy's conduct on that subject had thoroughly satisfied her. He had
+been very jealous but kind to her: he trusted and believed in her when
+she was frank, and he certainly seemed more in love with her than ever.
+Percy was so reliable, so true and _real_. She took up the dignified,
+charmingly flattered photograph of him. ... What a noble forehead! What
+a beautiful figure he had! And though he seemed so calm and so cold, he
+was passionate and could be violent. His intellect was not above the
+average, but his power of emotion most certainly was. ... Dear Percy!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And now she had promised to go to Nigel's house, she would get Percy to
+agree that evening.
+
+Bertha told him of Nigel's visit, and of the request.
+
+He frowned.
+
+"You've accepted, and that's enough. I suppose you had to say you were
+going. You can easily write Mrs. Hillier an excuse the next day. Dozens
+of people will do it."
+
+"Percy, I want to go."
+
+He looked up angrily and in surprise.
+
+"You want to go? You certainly can't. I don't wish it. Why, remember
+what you promised. Is this infernal intimacy beginning again?"
+
+"Percy, to-day is only the third time I've seen him since we talked
+about it! And I hadn't the faintest idea he was coming to-day. I was
+surprised and annoyed to see him. Since Madeline broke it off with
+Charlie, we've heard nothing about them. Don't you believe me?"
+
+"Naturally, I do. But it's a very odd thing a man should call here, and
+beg you to promise to come to his wife's party! Isn't it?"
+
+"Perhaps it is. We stopped seeing him so suddenly, you see."
+
+"What's that got to do with it?" said Percy, with angry impatience. The
+typewritten letters were torturing him. He had long been ashamed of not
+having shown them to Bertha, and made a clean breast of it. It was
+another reason why he hated Nigel and wanted the whole subject
+absolutely put aside and forgotten.
+
+"In my opinion it suggests a very curious relation his coming here
+to-day like this. Not on your side, dear," he continued gently, putting
+his hand on hers. "But, if you don't mind my saying so, you don't know
+very much of the world, dear little Bertha, and in your innocence you
+are liable to be imprudent."
+
+This was Percy's mistaken view of Bertha, but she did not dislike it.
+She was so determined now to be completely open that she did not try to
+put him off, and said candidly:
+
+"It may be perfectly true that he's rather more anxious for me to be at
+the party than he need be. But, after all, there's not much harm in
+that, Percy. All I want is to go in with you for twenty minutes or
+half-an-hour, and then go away quite quickly. After that, if you like,
+I'll give you my word of honour not to see him again."
+
+"What's the object of it? No, I'm hanged if I go to that man's house."
+
+"I promised as a special favour that I'd go."
+
+"But what's the reason? Why is he so desperate you should be seen
+there?"
+
+Percy frowned and thought a moment.
+
+"Has his wife--do you think it's been noticed he doesn't come here so
+often?"
+
+"It may have been. He didn't say so."
+
+"Then it's damned impertinence of him to dare to come and ask you. Why
+should I take you there to make things comfortable with him and his
+wife?"
+
+"Oh, Percy!"
+
+"I don't want to have anything to do with them," Percy repeated,
+frowning angrily at her.
+
+She paused and said sweetly:
+
+"Don't look worried, darling. Won't you anyhow think it over for a day
+or two?"
+
+Percy thought. He was a lawyer and it struck him that if the letters
+were to be really ignored it might be better for them to go in and be
+seen at the party, and if Bertha promised never to see him again, he
+knew she was telling the truth. But it was hard; it jarred on him.
+
+"We'll leave the subject for a few days, Bertha," he said. "I'll think
+it over. But what I decide then must be final."
+
+"Very well, Percy. ... I've got _such_ a lovely new dress! Pale primrose
+colour."
+
+"The dress I saw you trying on? The canary dress?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"No. I'm hanged if you'll wear that there!" he exclaimed.
+
+Bertha went into fits of laughter.
+
+"Oh, Percy, _how_ sweet of you to say that! You're becoming a regular
+jealous husband, do you know? Darling! How delightful!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+RUPERT AGAIN
+
+
+After the first reaction, Rupert felt, of course, to a certain extent,
+relieved and grateful to think that he was not engaged to Madeline.
+Undoubtedly, had he cared for her as she did for him, he would not have
+declined to marry her because of her accepting Charlie, more or less out
+of pique, or in despair. Yet, after having once really proposed he felt
+his emotions stirred, and almost as soon as he had sent her back (so to
+speak) to Charlie, he began to regret it--he began to be unhappy. _Au
+fond_ he knew she would break it off with Charlie now, and would wait
+vaguely in hope for him. At first to recover from the intense annoyance
+of the whole thing, he thought he would, before Venice, go in a little
+for the gaieties of Paris. Rupert was still young enough to believe that
+the things presented to him as gaiety must necessarily be gay. A certain
+delicacy prevented his telling Madeline this now; though formerly when
+he had been to Paris, especially when he had had no intention of
+accepting any Parisian opportunities of amusement, he had often rubbed
+it in to her about the dazzling and dangerous charms of the gay city's
+dissipations, at which she was suitably impressed. But a nicer feeling
+made him now wish her to think of him as gliding down the lagoons of
+Venice, and dreaming of what might have been.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Madeline herself was really entirely without hope. She was certain she
+had lost all the prestige that she had had in his eyes; and she thought
+that she thoroughly deserved what had happened. She resolved to remain
+unmarried, and try to do good. Though she was hurt, and thought it
+showed how much less was Rupert's love than hers, still she respected
+him and admired him all the more for refusing to take her after
+accepting Charlie. She did not see that Rupert was a little too serious
+to be taken quite seriously.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Her mother added immensely to her depression. Mrs. Irwin was a woman who
+detested facts, so much so that she thought statistics positively
+indecent (though she would never have used the expression). When she was
+told there were more women than men in England, she would bite her lips
+and change the subject. She had had all the Victorian intense desire to
+see her daughter married young, and all the Victorian almost absurd
+delicacy in pretending she didn't. When, in one week, her only
+daughter--a girl who was not remarkably pretty, and had only a little
+money--should have proposals from no less than two attractive and
+eligible young men and should have muddled it up so badly that, though
+she had been prepared to accept both of them, she was now unable to
+marry either, her mother was, naturally, pained and disgusted.
+
+Madeline, who was usually gentle and amiable to her, in this case spoke
+with a violence and determination that left no possible hope of her
+returning to Charlie Hillier. She left Mrs. Irwin nothing to do but to
+put on an air of refined resignation, of having neuralgia, which she now
+called neuritis, because Madeline had annoyed her so much, and of
+behaving, when Madeline sat with her, as much as possible like a person
+who was somewhere else.
+
+Bertha was Madeline's only consolation and resource. Bertha took life
+with such delightful coolness.
+
+"How would you advise me to behave to him, if it _had_ come off--I mean
+if I _had_ married Rupert?" Madeline asked Bertha.
+
+She was fond of these problematical speculations.
+
+"I should say be an angel, if he deserved it, or a devil if he
+appreciated it. Then--now and then--be non-existent, charming and
+indifferent, when you wanted to hedge--when there was no particular
+response. You'll go with me to the Hilliers' party, won't you, as
+Charlie will be away?"
+
+"Of course I will--if you like. But will Percy go--and let you go?"
+
+"He says he won't, but I think he will," she replied.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE HILLIERS' ENTERTAINMENT
+
+
+No more had been said between them about the Hilliers' party; and Percy
+began to hope that it would be dropped. But on the morning Bertha asked
+him if he would like to take her out to dinner first with Madeline;
+assuming that, as he had said no more about it, he intended to go.
+
+With those letters upstairs in the box, how could he?
+
+"I simply can't," he answered. "I don't wish to go to that man's house."
+
+"Then must I take Madeline alone?" said Bertha. "In all these years,
+Percy, I don't think I've ever been to a party without you."
+
+"And I don't see why you should begin now," he answered.
+
+"But, Percy, I want to go. Only for a few minutes."
+
+"I'd much rather you didn't."
+
+Bertha thought this tyrannical. She had promised Nigel, because he had
+implied to her that it would get him out of the domestic difficulty.
+
+"Oh, do, Percy dear. It's treating me as if you didn't trust me. After
+all ... if you like I'll swear to arrange never to see Nigel again."
+
+"I wish you would."
+
+"It's only because I think it would look marked."
+
+Percy thought there was something in that, and he didn't dislike the
+idea of proving to the person, whoever it was, that had written the
+letters, how little effect they had had. Yet, they had left a tinge of
+jealousy that would easily be roused again, especially at her
+insistence. He noticed that she didn't make the fact that she was
+chaperoning Madeline an excuse, as most women would have done. She was
+frank about it. Still, he tried once more.
+
+"I don't want you to go."
+
+"But I want to."
+
+She was not particularly fond of opposition, and began to look annoyed.
+She thought Percy was beginning to sit on her a little too much.
+
+"Well," he said, "I shall not dine out with you and Madeline first: I
+don't care to. But I'll hire an electric motor for you at eleven, and it
+shall fetch you at twelve-thirty. If Madeline doesn't want to come
+then, she can easily go back alone. It isn't far for her."
+
+"Oh, she won't want to stop any longer than that."
+
+"Oh, very well, we'll leave it like that. I shall dine at the club."
+
+"It's unkind of you. I believe you don't want to see me start."
+
+"You're quite right. I hate the idea of your appearing there in your
+lovely new dress. I suppose you want to wear it?"
+
+"Oh, I don't care in the least," she answered, "if you'd rather not."
+
+"Oh, hang it! Wear what you like," he answered rather crossly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+She did not see him again before she started, and, naturally, being a
+woman, she put on the new dress.
+
+It was pale yellow, and she knew Percy would have liked it and would
+have called her a canary.
+
+She went out, not in the best of tempers, and Madeline also, though
+looking very charming, did not look forward to the entertainment, and
+was thinking, with rather an aching heart, of Rupert in the lagoons of
+Venice.
+
+The Hilliers' house was arranged with the utmost gorgeousness. Nigel
+felt a little return of his pride in it to-night. It was covered all
+over with rambler roses, and looked magnificent. There was such a crowd
+that Nigel hoped to get a little talk alone with Bertha, but feared she
+would not come. He was agreeably surprised to see her arrive alone with
+Madeline.
+
+It so happened that Mary was not in the room when they were announced,
+and very soon Nigel managed to take her down, first into the
+refreshment-room, and then into the boudoir, which had been arranged
+with draperies and shaded lights.
+
+"I just want to have a few words with you," he said, and got her into a
+little corner.
+
+There was a heavy scent of roses; the music sounded faintly.
+
+"Bertha!" he said. "It was too sweet of you to come. I shall never
+forget it. You don't know how miserable I am."
+
+"Oh, rubbish!" she answered. "You've no earthly reason to be. I wish you
+wouldn't talk nonsense."
+
+"I've never seen you look so lovely."
+
+"I shall go away if you talk like that. Can't you see I don't like it?"
+
+"I wonder Percy allowed you to come alone, looking like that."
+
+"I came because I promised," she said. "You made me think, in some
+mysterious way, it would be a good thing for you. But after what you
+said about Mary, I want this to be distinctly understood: you are not to
+come and see me any more. Nothing in the world I should loathe so much
+as to be the cause of any trouble."
+
+"Oh, my dear, but that you never could," he answered quickly.
+
+"I hope not, and I'm not going to risk it. You chose your life, Nigel,
+and you have every reason to be happy."
+
+"Have I? You don't know."
+
+"Think of your children. I haven't got that pleasure, and yet I'm
+happy."
+
+"Are you madly in love with Percy?" he asked, with a smile.
+
+"Yes, I am," she answered.
+
+At this moment a small crowd of people came in at the door. Mary, who
+was with them, looked hurriedly round the room, and seeing Bertha and
+Nigel in the corner, called him, taking no notice of her.
+
+Bertha half rose, intending to go and shake hands with her, and Nigel
+quickly went to meet her, but Bertha paused, thinking Mary looked
+strange. She was very pale, and the white dress she wore made her look
+paler against her dull red hair. She wore a tiara, which seemed a
+little crooked, and her hair was disarranged. She was pale and
+trembling, but spoke in a loud voice that Bertha could hear. Within two
+yards of her, she said to Nigel, gesticulating with a feather fan:
+
+"If you don't make that woman go away at once, I shall make a public
+scene!"
+
+Bertha started up and looked at her in astonishment.
+
+Mary, glaring at her, and still talking loudly, allowed Nigel to lead
+her out of the room.
+
+He then came back.
+
+"I think my wife's gone mad! Forgive her. She's ill, or something."
+
+"I'm going now at once," said Bertha calmly. "Have a cab called for me,
+and let Madeline know that the motor will be here for her at half-past
+twelve. Leave me now--I don't want anything."
+
+"For God's sake forgive me. She's off her head," said Nigel
+incoherently.
+
+At her wish he ran upstairs.
+
+Bertha got her cloak, and telling a friend she met that she was going on
+to a dance, she got into a taxi and went home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+BERTHA AT HOME
+
+
+Bertha drove back, furiously angry, principally with Nigel, whom she
+also pitied a little. It could be no joke to live with a woman like his
+wife. But he should not have deceived Bertha; he should have let her
+know; he should not have induced her to come against Percy's wish, at
+the risk of being insulted.
+
+She was not anxious about Madeline, knowing that that sensible young
+lady would go to her own home when the carriage came, and that she could
+explain matters to her the next morning. Madeline was not _une faiseuse
+d'embarras_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bertha had brought her key as Percy had promised to wait up for her; the
+servants were to be allowed to go to bed. It was not long after twelve;
+she saw a light in the library and went in, fully intending to tell
+Percy everything.
+
+She found him sitting by the fire, with a book. He had fallen asleep.
+She watched him for some moments, and she thought he looked pale and a
+little worried. ... How wilful, how foolish it had been of her to go to
+the party without him! What did it matter? How trivial to insist on her
+own way! How ungrateful! For lately Percy had been devoted. And how
+lucky she was that he should care for her so much, after all these
+years.
+
+As Bertha watched, she felt that strange suffering which is always the
+other side of intense love--the reverse of the medal of the ecstasy of
+passion--and she thought she would tell him nothing about it. Why should
+he be hurt, annoyed, and humiliated? It would spoil all the pleasure of
+her coming back so early--the unexpected delightful time they might
+have. ... In this Bertha committed an error of judgment, for she forgot
+that he would probably hear of the scene some time or other, and would
+attach more importance to it than if she told him now.
+
+"Percy," she whispered.
+
+He woke up.
+
+"You already! Why, it's only twelve o'clock! Oh, dear, how good of you
+to come so early."
+
+"I didn't enjoy myself a bit," she murmured. "I'll never go out without
+you again. Do forgive me for going!"
+
+"How is it you didn't enjoy it?"
+
+"Because you hadn't seen me in my new dress. Do I look like a canary?"
+
+"No," he said. "Let me look at you. No, you're not a canary--you're a
+Bird of Paradise."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+NIGEL'S LETTER
+
+
+Next morning, as Bertha expected, Madeline came round to see her early.
+She brought with her a note. She said that Nigel had implored her to
+give it to her friend from him. He had put Madeline in the carriage, and
+had seemed greatly distressed. He told the girl that his wife had been
+ill lately and was not quite herself, and he feared she had offended
+Bertha.
+
+"She certainly behaved like a lunatic," Bertha said, as she took the
+letter.
+
+"Did you tell Percy?"
+
+"As a matter of fact, no."
+
+"Didn't he wonder at your coming home so early?"
+
+"I'm afraid I pretended I rushed back to please him. Was it wrong of me?
+I'm afraid it was."
+
+"I believe in frankness with people you can trust. And remember, quite a
+little while ago, Bertha, you were worried and depressed because you
+thought Percy was becoming a little casual and like an ordinary husband,
+and now, you naughty child, that he's been so _empresse_ and
+affectionate, and jealous and attentive and everything that you
+like--now you first insist on going to a party when he doesn't wish it,
+and then you come home and tell him stories about it."
+
+"I'm afraid I was wrong; but it was to spare him annoyance. Besides, I
+daresay I was weak. It was so delightful giving him a pleasant
+surprise."
+
+She read the letter.
+
+    "Forgive me for asking your friend to give you this note--I only
+    did it because I feared in writing to you to refer to what
+    happened. Is it asking too much, Bertha, to beg you not to
+    resent it? Not to hate me for to-night? Think of my shame and
+    misery about it--to think I had pressed and begged you to come
+    to be insulted in my house. You see now what I have tried to
+    conceal. I am utterly miserable. My wife is terrible and
+    impossible. Seeing you occasionally had been my one joy--my only
+    consolation. And only to-night--before--you had been telling me
+    not to come and see you any more. Now I feel our friendship is
+    all over. I could not expect you to see me again. You are such
+    an angel, that you will, if I ask you, I believe, try to wipe
+    out from your memory this horrible evening! I would rather have
+    died than it should have happened. Of course, you see now that
+    by instinct Mary guessed right--I mean in knowing my feeling for
+    you--though heaven knows I haven't deserved this. She's
+    screaming for me, and I must stop. All I ask is, don't hate me!
+    I'm so miserable when I think that you, beautiful angel as you
+    are, might have belonged to me. I doubt if I shall be able to
+    live this life much longer.
+
+    "In humblest apology, and with that deep feeling that writing
+    can never express, your idolising
+
+        "NIGEL.
+
+    "_P.S._--I ought not to have written that. But I fear so much
+    that I may not see you again, and that this may be my last
+    letter, and I feel I would like you to know honestly all I feel
+    for you. But words may not bear such burdens. Send me one word,
+    only one word of pardon."
+
+Bertha was obviously shocked and surprised at this letter. She folded it
+up, looking grave. Then she said to Madeline:
+
+"What a very extraordinary thing it has been that both Mary and Percy
+have been suspicious and jealous of Nigel and myself, while there's
+been absolutely nothing in it!"
+
+"But they both felt by instinct, perhaps, that that was no fault of
+his," returned Madeline.
+
+"I have no sympathy with him," said Bertha, who seemed for her quite
+hard. "If he does like me, all the more he ought to have kept away.
+Besides, it's only because he wants to be amused! What right has he to
+make his wife unhappy, when he deliberately chose her, and to be
+willing--if he is willing--to smash up my happiness with Percy?"
+
+"Of course that's horrid of him," said Madeline; "but somehow I do think
+his wife is rather awful; I think she might do anything. But won't you
+answer his letter?"
+
+"Yes; I think I'd better write him a line," said Bertha.
+
+She sat down and wrote:
+
+    "DEAR MR. HILLIER,--Pray don't think again of the unpleasant
+    little incident.
+
+    "I have already forgotten it.
+
+    "I think that if you will make your children the interest of
+    your life--though it's very impertinent of me to say
+    so--happiness must come of it.
+
+    "Good-bye. Yours very sincerely,
+
+        "BERTHA KELLYNCH"
+
+"I've written," said Bertha, "what I wouldn't mind either Percy or Mary
+seeing."
+
+"I'm sure you have, dear. But Percy would rather you didn't write at
+all."
+
+"Perhaps. But I think it's right. Besides, otherwise, he might write
+again, or even call."
+
+"Yes, that's true."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+LADY KELLYNCH AT HOME
+
+
+Although Lady Kellynch was a widow, and had had two sons (at the unusual
+interval of eighteen years), there was something curiously old-maidish
+about her--I should say that she had a set of qualities that were
+formerly known by that expression, as there are no such things nowadays
+as old maids and maiden aunts as contrasted to British matrons. There
+are merely married or unmarried women. And Lady Kellynch belonged to a
+long-forgotten type; she was no suffragette; politics did not touch her,
+and at fifty-four she did not regard herself as the modern middle-aged
+woman does. It never occurred to her for a moment, for example, to have
+lessons in the Tango or to learn ski-ing or any other winter sports, in
+a white jersey and cap. She was not seen clinging to the arm of a
+professor of roller-skating, nor did she go to fancy-dress balls as
+Folly or Romeo, as a Pierrette or Joan of Arc, as many of her
+contemporaries loved to do. She dressed magnificently and in the fashion
+of the day, and yet she always remained and looked extremely
+old-fashioned; and though she would wear her hats as they were made
+nowadays, her hair then had a look that did not go with it; no
+hairdresser or milliner could ever induce her to do it in a style later
+than 1887. The larger number of women have had some period of their
+lives when the fashion has happened to suit them, or when, for some
+reason or another, they have had a special success, and most of these
+cling fondly to that epoch. Lady Kellynch never got away from 1887 and
+the time of Queen Victoria's first Jubilee. All the fads of the hour
+seemed to have passed over her since then, from bicycling to flying,
+from classical dancing or ragtime to enthusiasm about votes for women;
+the various movements had passed over her without leaving any hurt or
+effect. Lady Kellynch had had a success in 1887; she cherished tenderly
+a photograph of herself in an enormous bustle, with an impossibly small
+waist, a thick high fringe over her eyes, and a tight dog-collar. The
+bald bare look about the ears, and the extraordinary figure resembling a
+switchback made her look very much older then than she did now. But more
+than one smart young soldier (now, probably, steady retired generals,
+who passed their time saying that the country was going to the dogs), an
+attache long since married and sunk into domestic life, and one or two
+other men had greatly admired her; she had had her little dignified
+flirtations, much as she adored the late Sir Percy Kellynch; her
+portrait had been painted by Herkomer, and the Prince of Wales (as he
+then was) had looked at her through his opera glass during the
+performance of Gounod's _Romeo and Juliet_. These were things not to be
+forgotten. When her husband died, Percy married and Clifford went to
+school, and Lady Kellynch was left alone in her big house in South
+Kensington, she became again what I call old-maidish. She had a hundred
+little rules and fussy little arrangements, of which the slightest
+disorganisation drove her to distraction. She had long consultations
+every day with the cook at nine o'clock as to what was to be done with
+what was left. She liked to be domestic, and would stand over the man
+who was cleaning the windows and tell him how to do it. Certain things
+she liked to do herself.
+
+In the drawing-room was a chandelier of the seventies, beautiful in its
+way, though out of date, and she used to take the lustres down and
+polish them with her own fingers, taking a great pride in doing this
+herself. She cared really for no one in the world but her two sons, but
+she was extremely fond, in her own way, of society and of receiving. She
+did not keep open house, and hers was not by any means casual
+hospitality. She hated anyone to call upon her unexpected and uninvited,
+except on the first and third Thursday of every month. She was very much
+surprised that in the rush of the present day people had a way of
+forgetting these days and calling on others. The first Thursday was
+peculiarly ill-treated and ignored, and preparations on that day were
+often wasted, while on the second Thursday she would come home and find
+a quantity of cards, belonging to more or less smart, if dull, people
+who had left them, with a sigh of relief at their mistake.
+
+Lady Kellynch was good-natured in a cold kind of way, and even lavish;
+yet she had her queer, petty economies, and was always talking about a
+mysterious feat that she spoke of as _keeping the books down_, and was
+also fond of discovering tiny little dressmakers who used to be with
+some celebrated one and had now set up for themselves.
+
+Lady Kellynch was very kind to these little dressmakers--she spoke of
+them as if they were minute to the point of being midgets or
+dwarfs--she was really rather the curse of their lives, and after a
+while they would have been glad to dispense with her custom. She wanted
+them to do impossibilities, such as making her look exactly as she did
+at Queen Victoria's first Jubilee (the time when she was so much admired
+and had such a success), and yet making her look up-to-date now, without
+any of the horrid fast modern style.
+
+When Clifford was at home things were considerably turned upside down,
+and when the time of his holidays drew to an end she was conscious of
+being relieved.
+
+It was the first Thursday, and Lady Kellynch was at home. A day or two
+before Clifford had spent a day with Pickering and his mother. She had
+told him he might ask the boy to tea.
+
+"Mother," said Clifford, who had received a note, "Pickering can't come
+to-day."
+
+"Oh, indeed--what a pity."
+
+She was really rather glad. Boys at an At Home were a bore and ate all
+the cake.
+
+"Er--no--he can't come. But, I say, you won't mind, will you?--his
+mother's coming."
+
+"His mother!" exclaimed Lady Kellynch, rather surprised.
+
+"Er--yes--I asked her. I thought, perhaps, you wouldn't mind. She wants
+to know you."
+
+"Really? It's very kind of her, I'm sure."
+
+"You see, in a way, though she's awfully rich--I suppose she's a bit of
+a--you know what I mean--a sort of a _nouveau riche_. She wants to visit
+a few decent people, especially not too young."
+
+"Oh, indeed!"
+
+"She says it'll sort of pose her, and help her to get into society."
+
+"What curious things to say to a boy."
+
+"Oh, she's awfully jolly, mother. She says everything that comes into
+her head. She's ripping--I do like her."
+
+"Who was she?" asked his mother, with a rather chilling accent.
+
+"I'm sure I don't know who she was," said the boy. "I can tell you who
+she is: she's the prettiest woman I've ever seen."
+
+"Good gracious me!"
+
+"We had awful larks," went on Clifford. "She played with us and
+Pickering's kiddy sister. We danced the Tango and had charades. You
+can't think what fun it was. And we had tableaux. Mrs. Pickering and I
+did a lovely tableau, 'Death in the Desert.' She fell down dead
+suddenly, on the sand, you know, and I was a vulture. I'm an awfully
+good vulture. And I vultured about and hopped round her for some
+considerable time."
+
+"Horrible!" cried Lady Kellynch. "Revolting! What an unpleasant subject
+for a game."
+
+"It wasn't a game: it was a proper tableau: we had a curtain and all
+that sort of thing. They said I made a capital vulture. I pecked at Mrs.
+Pickering. It was a great success."
+
+"Dear me! Was it indeed? Well, if this lady's coming, you'd better go
+and wash your hands," said Lady Kellynch, who felt a disposition to snub
+Clifford on the subject.
+
+"Of course I will! I say, mother, what cakes have you got?"
+
+"Really, Clifford, I think you can leave that to me."
+
+"They have jolly little _foie gras_ sandwiches at the Pickerings."
+
+"I daresay they have."
+
+"Can I go and tell cook to make some?"
+
+"Most certainly not, Clifford!" cried the indignant mother.
+
+"But if there aren't any, she might miss them," said Clifford.
+
+"She will probably enjoy the change."
+
+"You can't think how pretty she is! I say, mother."
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"I say, can't you have fur put round the edge of your shoes!"
+
+"Fur round the edge of my shoes!" she repeated in a hollow voice.
+
+He twisted his hands together self-consciously.
+
+"Mrs. Pickering had an awful ripping violet sort of dress, and violet
+satin boots with fur round the edge. ... I noticed them when we played
+'Death in the Desert.' I thought they were rather pretty."
+
+"Extremely bad style, I should think. At any rate, not the sort of thing
+that I should dream of wearing. Now get along."
+
+Clifford went down to the kitchen and worried the cook with descriptions
+of the gorgeous cakes he had seen at the Pickerings till she said that
+his ma had better accept her notice, and engage the Pickerings' cook
+instead.
+
+"Orders from you, Master Clifford, I will not take. And now you've got
+it straight. _For grars_ in the afternoon is a thing I don't hold with
+and never would hold with, and I've lived in the best families. There's
+some nice sandwiches made of _gentlemen's relish_ made of Blootes'
+paste, your ma's always 'ad since I've been here; it's done for her and
+the best families I've lived in. _Fors grars_ is served at the end of
+dinner with apsia and jelly, or else in one of them things with crust on
+the top and truffles. But for tea I consider it quite out of place."
+
+She went on to say that if she couldn't have her kitchen to herself
+without the young gentlemen of the house putting their oar in, she would
+leave that day month.
+
+Clifford fled, frightened, and tidied himself.
+
+At about five, when two or three old cronies of Lady Kellynch's were
+sitting round, talking about the royal family, a gigantic motor, painted
+white, came to the door, and Mrs. Pickering was announced.
+
+She was very young and very pretty. Her hair was the very brightest
+gold, and she had rather too much mauve and too much smile; she almost
+curtsied to her hostess, and instantly gave that lady the impression
+that she must have been not so very long ago the principal boy at some
+popular pantomime.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+MRS. PICKERING
+
+
+"Our boys are such very great friends--I really felt I must know you!"
+cried Mrs. Pickering in the most cordial way. She spoke with a very
+slight Cockney accent. She bristled with aigrettes and sparkled with
+jewels. Her bodice was cut very low, her sleeves very short, and her
+white gloves came over the braceleted elbows. She wore a very high,
+narrow turban, green satin shoes and stockings, and altogether was
+dressed rather excessively; she looked like one of Louis Bauer's
+drawings in _Punch_. She was certainly most striking in appearance, and
+a little alarming in a quiet room, but most decidedly pretty and with a
+very pleasant smile.
+
+Lady Kellynch received her with great courtesy, but was not sufficiently
+adaptable and subtle to conceal at once the fact that Mrs. Pickering's
+general appearance and manner had completely taken her breath away.
+Also, she was annoyed that Lady Gertrude Muenster was there to-day. Lady
+Gertrude was one of her great cards. She was a clever, glib,
+battered-looking, elderly woman, who, since her husband had once been at
+the Embassy in Vienna, had assumed a slight foreign accent; it was meant
+to be Austrian but sounded Scotch. Lady Gertrude looked rather muffled
+and seemed to have more thick veils and feather boas on than was
+necessary for the time of the year. She was an old friend of Lady
+Kellynch's, and they detested each other, but never missed an
+opportunity of meeting, chiefly in order to impress each other, in one
+way or another, or cause each other envy or annoyance.
+
+Lady Kellynch was always very specially careful whom she asked, or
+allowed, to meet Lady Gertrude. She had wanted Bertha particularly
+to-day and was vexed at this unexpected arrival.
+
+"Your daughter-in-law, my dear?" asked Lady Gertrude, in a surprised
+tone, putting up her long tortoiseshell glass.
+
+"Oh _dear_, no, Gertrude! Surely you know Bertha by sight! I never had
+the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Pickering before."
+
+"Charmed to meet you," said Mrs. Pickering again, giving a kind of
+curtsy and smiling at Lady Gertrude. "Ah, there's my little friend!
+Well, Cliff, didn't we have fun the other day? Eustace was sorry he
+couldn't come to-day. We had the greatest larks, Lady Kellynch! I play
+with the kids just like one of themselves. We've got a great big room
+fixed up on purpose for Cissie and Eustace to romp. We haven't been
+there very long yet, Lady Kellynch. You know that big corner house in
+Hamilton Place leading into Park Lane. My husband thinks there's nothing
+good enough for the children. If it comes to that, he thinks there's
+nothing good enough for me." She giggled. "He gave me this emerald
+brooch only this morning. 'Oh, Tom,' I said, 'what a silly you are. You
+don't want to make a fuss about birthdays now we're getting on.' But he
+is silly about me! It's a nice little thing, isn't it?" she said,
+showing it to Lady Gertrude, who put up her glass to examine it.
+
+"Lady Gertrude Muenster--Mrs. Pickering," said Lady Kellynch. "Some tea?"
+
+"Thanks, no tea. It's a pretty little thing, isn't it, Lady Muenster?"
+
+"Rather nice. Are they real?" asked Lady Gertrude.
+
+Mrs. Pickering laughed very loudly. "You're getting at me. I shouldn't
+be so pleased with it if it came out of a cracker! But what I always say
+about presents, Lady Kellynch, is, it isn't so much the kind thought,
+it's the value of the gift I look at. No, I meant----"
+
+"What you said, I suppose," said Lady Gertrude, who was rather enjoying
+herself, as she saw her hostess was irritated.
+
+"Whoever's that pretty picture over there?"
+
+Mrs. Pickering got up and went to look at the piano.
+
+Lady Kellynch still retained (with several other _passe_ fashions) the
+very South Kensington custom of covering up her large piano with a
+handsome piece of Japanese embroidery, which was caught up at intervals
+into bunchy bits of drapery, fastened by pots of flowers with sashes
+round their necks and with a very large number of dark photographs in
+frames, so very artistic in their heavy shading that one saw only a
+gleam of light occasionally on the tip of the nose or the back of the
+neck--all the rest in shadow--all with very large dashing signatures
+slanting across the corners, chiefly of former dim social celebrities or
+present well-known obscurities. The photograph she was looking at now
+was a pretty one of Bertha.
+
+"Ah, that is my daughter-in-law."
+
+Lady Kellynch pointed it out to Lady Gertrude.
+
+"This _is_ pretty--what you can see of it."
+
+"Here she is herself."
+
+Bertha came in.
+
+"Mrs. Pickering--Mrs. Percy Kellynch."
+
+The hostess gave Bertha an imploring look. She took in the situation at
+a glance and drew Mrs. Pickering a little aside, where Lady Gertrude
+could not listen to her piercing Cockney accent.
+
+Clifford joined the group.
+
+If Lady Kellynch had been, almost against her will, reminded by
+something in her visitor of a pantomime, Bertha saw far more. She was
+convinced at once that the rich eldest son of Pickering, the Jam King,
+had been dazzled and carried away, some fourteen years ago, and bestowed
+his enormous fortune and himself, probably against his family's wish, on
+a little provincial chorus girl. Her cheery determination to get on, and
+an evident sense of humour, made Bertha like her, in spite of her
+snobbishness and her manner. She was a change, at least, to meet here,
+and when Mrs. Pickering produced her card, which she did to everyone to
+whom she spoke, Bertha promised to call and asked her also. Of course
+one would have to be a shade careful whom one asked to meet her, but
+probably it would be a jolly house to go to. And nowadays! Still, Bertha
+was a little surprised that Clifford was so infatuated with the mother
+of his friend. She forgot that at twelve years old one is not
+fastidious; the taste is crude. If he admired Bertha's fair hair, he
+thought Mrs. Pickering's brilliant gold curls still prettier. Besides,
+Mrs. Pickering petted and made much of him, and was very kind.
+
+She stayed much too long for a first visit, and as she went of course
+produced another card, saying to the muffled lady:
+
+"Pleased to have met you, Lady Muenster. I hope you'll call and see our
+new house. We're going to give a ball soon. We're entertaining this
+season."
+
+"She certainly is," murmured Lady Gertrude. Then, as she left: "My dear,
+where do you pick up your extraordinary friends?"
+
+This was a particularly nasty one for Lady Kellynch, who made such a
+point of her exclusiveness.
+
+"Clifford is responsible for this, I think," said Bertha. "The boys are
+at the same school, and they've been very kind to him. I think she's
+very amusing, and a good sort."
+
+"Oh, quite a character! She told me she met her husband at Blackpool. He
+fell in love with her when she was playing Prince Charming in No. 2 B
+Company on tour with the pantomime _Little Miss Muffet_."
+
+"Just what one would have thought!" said Lady Kellynch, rather
+tragically.
+
+"I've come to ask you if you'll go with Percy to the Queen's Hall
+to-morrow," Bertha said. "He wants you to come so much."
+
+The mother delightedly consented.
+
+"Curious fad that is the mania for serious music," said Lady Gertrude.
+"You don't share your husband's taste for it, it seems?"
+
+"Well, I do, really. But it's such a treat for him to take his mother
+out!" said Bertha tactfully.
+
+"I say, Bertha, may I come back with you? I'm going back to school next
+week."
+
+"Of course you shall, if your mother likes."
+
+His mother was glad to agree. She did not feel inclined to discuss Mrs.
+Pickering with the boy that evening.
+
+"Try and make him see what an awful woman she is," she murmured.
+
+"I will; but it isn't dangerous," laughed Bertha. "Madeline is spending
+the evening with me to-morrow."
+
+"Oh yes, that nice quiet girl. By the way, do you know, I heard she was
+engaged to young Charles Hillier. And then somewhere else I was told it
+was Mr. Rupert Denison."
+
+"It's neither," calmly replied Bertha, "But I believe each of them
+proposed to her."
+
+"Is that a fact? Dear me! Just fancy her refusing them both! What a
+grief for poor Mrs. Irwin!"
+
+Bertha laughed as she remembered that as a matter of fact Madeline had
+accepted both, within two days.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+NEWS FROM VENICE
+
+
+Madeline was sitting one afternoon with her mother in their little
+Chippendale flat, all inlaid mahogany and old-fashioned chintz, china in
+cabinets, and miniatures on crimson velvet; it was so perfectly in
+keeping that the very parlourmaid's cap looked Chippendale, and it
+somehow suggested Hugh Thomson's illustrations to Jane Austen's books.
+Mrs. Irwin and Madeline were not, however, in the least degree like Miss
+Austen's heroines and their mothers, except that Mrs. Irwin, though very
+thin and elegant, had this one resemblance to the immortal Mrs. Bennet
+in "Pride and Prejudice": "the serious object of her life was to get her
+daughter married; its solace, gossiping and news." Also she had much of
+the same querulousness, and complained every night of nerves, and each
+morning of insomnia.
+
+Madeline was reading John Addington Symonds' Renaissance and everything
+that she could get on the subject of Italian history and cinquecento
+art. These studies she pursued still as a sort of monument to Rupert, or
+as a link with him. And to-day, as she was waiting for Bertha to call
+and take her out, she received a letter from him, from Venice.
+
+It was one of his long, friendly, cultured letters; making no allusion
+to any thoughts of becoming more than friends to each other, and no
+reference to the interlude of his proposal, or the episode of her
+engagement to Charlie. This memory seemed to have faded away, and he
+wrote in his old instructive way a long letter in his pretty little
+handwriting, speaking of gondoliers, Savonarola, hotels, pictures,
+lagoons, fashions and the weather. This last, he declared to be so
+unbearable that he thought of coming back to London before very long. He
+asked for an answer to his letter, and wished to know what she was
+reading, what concerts she had been to, and whether she had seen the
+exhibition at the Goupil Gallery.
+
+But though it took her back to long before the period of his
+love-letter, and he appeared to wish the whole affair to be forgotten,
+it gave her considerable satisfaction. He wanted to hear of her, and,
+what was more, he was coming back. Of course Mrs. Irwin saw that the
+letter was from him, and she remarked that she had always said everyone
+had a right to their own letters, and that after twenty-one, nowadays,
+she supposed girls could do exactly what they liked, which she thought
+was only fair; that mothers, very rightly, hardly counted in the present
+day, were regarded as nobody, and were treated with no confidence of any
+kind, of which she thoroughly approved; that Madeline's new coat and
+skirt suited her very badly and did not fit; and that grey had never
+been her colour.
+
+Madeline's reply to this was to place the long letter into her mother's
+hand.
+
+Having read it, Mrs. Irwin said she did not wish to force anybody's
+confidence, and she was evidently disappointed at its contents. However,
+she advised her daughter to answer without loss of time.
+
+The conversation was interrupted by Bertha's arrival.
+
+"You know my brother-in-law, Clifford?" she said. "The funny boy has
+'littery' tastes and began writing an historical play! But he got tired
+of it and now he's taken to writing verses. I've brought you one of his
+poems; they're so funny I thought it would amuse you. Fancy if a brother
+of Percy's should grow up to be a 'littery gent'. I suspect it to be
+addressed to the mother of his beloved friend, Pickering. He is devoted
+to her."
+
+"Where are you going to-day?" inquired Mrs. Irwin.
+
+"I'm taking Madeline to see Miss Belvoir. She has rather amusing
+afternoons. Her brother, Fred Belvoir, whom she lives with, is a curious
+sort of celebrity. When he went down from Oxford they had a sort of
+funeral procession because he was so popular. He's known on every
+race-course; he's a great hunting man, an authority on musical comedy,
+and is literary too--he writes for _Town Topics_. Miss Belvoir is the
+most good-natured woman in the world, and so intensely hospitable that
+she asks everyone to lunch or dinner the first time she meets them, and
+sometimes without having been introduced, and she asks everyone to bring
+their friends. They have a charming flat on the Thames Embankment and a
+dear little country house called The Lurch, where her brother often
+leaves her. They're mad on private theatricals, too, and are always
+dressing up."
+
+"It sounds rather fun," said Madeline.
+
+"Not very exclusive," suggested her mother.
+
+"No, not a bit. But it's great fun," said Bertha, "and I've heard people
+say that you can be as exclusive as you like at Miss Belvoir's by
+bringing your own set and talking only to them. People who go to her
+large parties often don't know her by sight; she's so lost in the
+crowd, and she never remembers anybody, or knows them again. To be ever
+so little artistic is a sufficient passport to be asked to the
+Belvoirs'. In fact if a brother-in-law of a friend of yours once sent an
+article to a magazine which was not inserted, or if your second cousin
+once met Tree at a party, and was not introduced to him, that is quite
+sufficient to make you a welcome guest there. Now that my little
+brother-in-law has written a poem, I shall have a _raison d'etre_ in
+being there. You'll see, Madeline, you'll enjoy yourself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+ANOTHER ANONYMOUS LETTER
+
+
+"Oh, Bertha, I've heard from Rupert again," said Madeline, as they drove
+along.
+
+"I saw you'd had a letter from that talented young cul-de-sac," replied
+Bertha.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Nothing. I didn't mean anything. I like to tease you, and you must
+confess that he's the sort of man--well, nothing ever seems to get much
+forrarder with him! What does he say?"
+
+"It's just the sort of letter he wrote long before he ever dreamt of
+proposing to me."
+
+"Well, I think that's rather a good sign. He's reassumed his early
+manner. I believe he's going to work his way up all over again--all
+through the beaten paths, and ignore the incident that hurt his vanity,
+and then propose again. We may have rather fun here to-day. Sometimes
+there are only a few fly-blown celebrities, and sometimes there are very
+new beginners without a future, debutantes who will never _debuter_,
+singers who can't sing, actors who never have any engagements, and
+editors who are just thinking of bringing out a paper. Miss Belvoir
+collects people who are unknown but prominent, noticeable and yet
+obscure. Here we are."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+While Bertha and Madeline were being entertained in Miss Belvoir's
+drawing-room something more serious was happening to Percy.
+
+The day after the Hilliers' party Nigel had a terrible quarrel with his
+wife, and he threatened that if she ever again lost her self-control and
+disgraced him or herself by anything in the way of a scene, that he
+would leave her and never come back. This really frightened her, for she
+knew she had behaved unpardonably. She would not have minded so very
+much if he had gone away for a little while, but how was she to prevent
+the Kellynches going to the same place--even travelling with him? She
+had been amazed to see Bertha. At the time she sent the letters there
+had certainly been a marked change, a new movement, as she thought. They
+had had an effect, without a doubt, though how or what she hardly knew,
+but she supposed she had roused Percy's suspicions and he had stopped
+the meetings. And then Mrs. Kellynch calmly came to the party without
+her husband, which seemed to prove she knew nothing of the letters, and
+disappeared at once with Nigel into the shaded conversation-room,
+snatching her host and openly flirting with him in the most marked way!
+It had been too much for her self-restraint. But now Mary saw she had
+gone too far. Her open fury had been less successful than her secret
+intriguing, so she apologised most humbly, entreated him to forgive her,
+and even swore never to interfere again. He was to be quite free. He
+might see Mrs. Kellynch whenever he liked. But all this was, of course,
+too late for Nigel, since Bertha herself had declined to see him again,
+and Mary resolved to start afresh. Probably the husband had lost his
+suspicions and they must be roused again. If only Bertha had told him
+all that had happened at the party, and if only Percy had frankly shown
+her the letters and concealed nothing from her, there would have been no
+more trouble. But each of them, from mistaken reasons, had concealed
+these facts from the other. So, within a week of the entertainment, when
+he had been so enchanted with her coming home early, Percy received
+another shock, another warning anonymous letter.
+
+It told him that his wife had made herself so conspicuous with Nigel
+Hillier that the hostess had requested her to leave, also that their
+meetings and their intrigue were the talk of London. He was again
+advised to put a stop to it, but was not this time given any day and
+hour or place to find them.
+
+This time Percy said nothing to his wife. He made up his mind to have it
+out, for several reasons, with Nigel. Though he was angry and jealous,
+he now did not believe for a moment that Bertha was in any way to blame,
+but simply that Nigel must be paying her marked attention, and whatever
+the cause of the talk he was determined to stop it.
+
+He thought for some time about where he could have an interview with
+Nigel. He could not ask him to his own house, nor could he go and see
+him at Grosvenor Street. His former idea of talking at the club he saw
+to be impossible.
+
+He sat down and wrote:
+
+    "DEAR HILLIER,--I want to have a talk with you. Will you come
+    and see me at my chambers at four o'clock the day after
+    to-morrow? No. 7 Essex Court, Temple. Yours sincerely,
+
+        "PERCIVAL KELLYNCH."
+
+Nigel was amazed to receive this, and rather alarmed too. It was about a
+week since he had had Bertha's little letter, but he had made no attempt
+to see her since.
+
+He answered immediately that he would call at the time appointed and
+passed a very restless day and night beforehand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+AN INTERVIEW
+
+
+Nigel, filled with curiosity, and rather anxious, arrived punctually to
+the moment. He was shown into Percy's chambers by a stout and
+prosperous-looking middle-aged clerk, with a gold watch-chain.
+
+He waited there for some minutes, walking slowly up and down the room
+and examining it. It was a very dull, serious room, almost depressing.
+On the large table lay bulbous important-looking briefs, tied up with
+red tape. Framed caricatures of judges and eminent barristers from
+_Vanity Fair_ hung round the walls. The furniture was scarce, large and
+heavy. On the mantelpiece was a framed photograph with a closed leather
+cover. It looked interesting and expensive, and Nigel with his quick
+movements had the curiosity to go across the room to open it. It
+contained two lovely photographs of Bertha: one in furs and a hat, the
+other in evening dress. It irritated Nigel. ... A sound of footsteps
+gave him only just time to close it with a spring, and sit down.
+
+Percy came in looking as Nigel had never seen him look before. There had
+been an unimportant case in court, but he had been unable to get away
+before. He was so orderly as a rule that he detested keeping anybody
+waiting. He looked flushed and hurried, and his black smooth hair was
+extraordinarily rough and wild. Of course, Nigel remembered, he had just
+taken off his wig. There was a red line on his forehead, the mark left
+by this ornament. The effect made him look like a different person. He
+threw off his coat and spoke seriously and rather formally.
+
+"Sorry, Hillier. Delayed in court. Hope I haven't kept you?"
+
+"It doesn't matter in the least," Nigel answered in his cheery way.
+
+Nigel was looking exceedingly at ease, and happy, though the manner was
+really assumed to-day. He was very smartly dressed, with light gloves
+and a buttonhole of violets, and looked a gay contrast to Percy, with
+his unusually rough hair and solemn expression.
+
+"I was very interested. I don't think I've ever seen a barrister's
+chambers before. Jolly rooms you've got here. What a charming place the
+Temple is. ... Well! I've been simply dying of curiosity," he went on,
+with a pleasant smile.
+
+"Sit down," said Percy. "Have a cigarette?"
+
+Nigel lighted up. Percy did not.
+
+"It's not very pleasant what I want to say to you. It's simply that I
+don't want you to come to our house any more."
+
+Nigel looked surprised and coloured slightly.
+
+"And may I ask your reason?"
+
+"I don't see why I should give it, but I will. I don't wish you to see
+my wife any more."
+
+"This is very extraordinary, Kellynch! Why?"
+
+"I've reason to believe that your old friendship has been the cause of
+some talk--some scandal. I don't like it. I won't have it, and that's
+sufficient. I insist on you avoiding her in future."
+
+Nigel stared blankly.
+
+"I can only agree of course. I'll do just as you tell me. But I think,
+as we've known each other so long, that it would be only fair for you to
+tell me what is your reason for thinking this."
+
+Nigel walked up and down the room, turned suddenly and said: "What has
+put this idea into your head?"
+
+Percy hesitated a moment.
+
+"I'll tell you if you like. But, mind, I want no explanations. I needn't
+say," he glanced at the closed photograph, "that I could have no doubt
+of any kind. ... But I have a right to choose my friends and my wife's
+also."
+
+"She doesn't object?"
+
+Percy frowned and looked him straight in the face.
+
+"I undertake to say she will not object. We'll make this conversation as
+short as we can. You've asked me my reason and I'll give it you. I've
+had a series of extraordinary anonymous letters concerning you."
+
+Nigel stared, horrified.
+
+"She knows nothing about it," continued Percy, "and I attach no
+importance to them, except, as I say, they show that your acquaintance
+must have been misconstrued, and I won't have a shadow ... on her."
+
+"This is rather hard on me, Kellynch. However, I have the satisfaction
+of knowing my conscience is absolutely clear, and of course, I'll do
+just as you wish. Have you any objection to showing me the letters?"
+
+After a moment's pause, Percy said:
+
+"No. I don't know that I have. I've got them here. I meant to shove them
+in the fire, but I'll let you read them first, if you like."
+
+He went to a drawer, unlocked it, gave Nigel the letters, and watched
+him while he read them.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The moment Nigel glanced at them he knew they were written by Mary. He
+remembered by the dates when she had had the typewriter; he remembered,
+even, seeing some of the white notepaper. He read them all. Then he
+looked up and said:
+
+"Kellynch, it's good of you to show these to me. I'm sorry to say I know
+who wrote them. The earlier ones telling of the appointments are all
+perfectly true, but entirely misrepresented. They can all be explained."
+
+"I understand that," said Percy. "Of course the suggestion and the
+impression the writer tries to give are absolutely false."
+
+"Quite so. May I burn the letters now?"
+
+There was a fire and Nigel threw them into it. He saw no point in
+keeping them to confront Mary with. She would confess anyhow.
+
+"May I ask one thing more?"
+
+"My wife knows nothing about them," repeated Percy.
+
+Nigel thought what a pity that was. If she had, she would not have come
+to the party; things might have been tided over. But now. ... He had no
+hope of the wish of his life, he was as furious as a spoilt child who
+is deprived of a favourite toy--or, rather, disappointed of all hopes of
+getting one. He became more and more angry with Percy and longed to
+annoy him. The fellow was too satisfied--too lucky--he had everything
+too much his own way!
+
+"May I ask one thing?" said Nigel, as the letters were burning and he
+gave them one last irritated touch with the poker, "may I ask, does this
+affair give you the impression that I--only I naturally--had
+any--er--motives in trying to see Mrs. Kellynch often? If I may put it
+plainly, did you think I cared for her in a way that I had no right to?"
+
+"To tell you the honest truth," said Percy, "as I choose to be frank
+with you, I won't say you had ... motives, but I have the impression
+that you--er--admire her too much."
+
+Nigel waited a moment.
+
+"And there you are perfectly right, Kellynch."
+
+Percy started up, looking a little pale.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nigel had got a little of his revenge.
+
+He had annoyed the comfortable Percy.
+
+"But let me say that all this time I have never, never shown it by word
+or look. Our talks were almost entirely about Madeline Irwin and my
+brother, or about Rupert Denison. Your wife is so exceedingly kind and
+good that she wished to see Miss Madeline as happy as herself."
+
+"Yes, yes, I know all that," said Percy impatiently.
+
+"I shall follow your wishes to the very letter," said Nigel. "You see
+how very open I've been. How will you explain to her that I drop your
+acquaintance?"
+
+"I think I shall tell her now," said Percy, "that I had received a
+letter and that I've seen you. But I shall tell her we parted the best
+of friends, and nothing must be done, above all things, to annoy or
+agitate her."
+
+He looked at the closed leather case again.
+
+"Just now I want to take special care of her. I daresay she won't notice
+not meeting you, as we're not going out in the evening the rest of the
+season nor entertaining."
+
+Nigel looked amazed. An idea occurred to him that caused him absurd
+mortification. It dawned upon his mind that perhaps Bertha was going to
+have her wish. If so, he would be forgotten more completely than ever.
+
+"Forgive me for asking, Kellynch. I think you've been very good to me,
+really. I trust your wife is not ill?"
+
+"Ill?--oh dear, no."
+
+Percy smiled a smile that to Nigel seemed maddeningly complacent. "She
+merely wants a little care for a time. We shall go to the country very
+early this year. As a matter of fact, it's something she's very pleased
+about." He stopped.
+
+Nigel gave a pale smile. Percy was too irritating!
+
+"Well, you were right not to worry her about the letters. I'm very sorry
+for the whole thing. I think it's been hard on me, Kellynch."
+
+He stood up.
+
+"Good-bye, Hillier!"
+
+Nigel held out his hand; Percy shook it coldly.
+
+As he went to the door, taking up his hat and stick, Nigel said:
+
+"I sincerely hope you won't miss me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+NIGEL AND MARY
+
+
+Nigel rushed back. On his way, he decided that he had got a real excuse
+for a holiday; he had every right to go away for a time from such a
+wife; and he found himself thinking chiefly about where he would go and
+how he would amuse himself. If the husband had only known it, Bertha had
+already, if not exactly forbidden him the house, discouraged his
+calling, almost as distinctly, though more kindly, than Percy did.
+Still, if Percy had not given him that piece of information, he would
+have remained in London, and left it to chance that they might meet
+again somehow. He was such an optimist, and was really so very much in
+love with her. Curious that this news of Bertha should annoy and should
+excite him so much! Why, it seemed to him to be a matter of more
+importance and far more interest than in his own wife's case. That he
+had taken quite as a matter of course, an ordinary everyday occurrence
+"which would give her something to do." He was really disappointed when
+he found that Mary did not absorb herself in her children, and found she
+was only anxious--foolishly anxious--that he should not think that they
+could take his place as companions.
+
+Nigel was affectionate by nature, and if Mary had insisted on that
+note--if she had made him proud of his children, encouraged his
+affection for them, if she had played the madonna--his affection for her
+would have been immensely increased. She would have had a niche in his
+heart--a respect and tenderness, even if she had never been able to make
+him entirely faithful, which, perhaps, only one woman could have done.
+But, instead of that, Mary had been jealous and silly and violently
+exacting. She wished him to be her slave and under her thumb, and yet
+she wanted him to be her lover. Every word she had ever spoken,
+everything she had ever done since their marriage had had the exact
+contrary effect of what she desired. She had sent him further and
+further away from her. That she knew he had married her for her money
+embittered her and yet made her tyrannical. She wanted to take advantage
+of that fact, in a way that no man could endure. Yet she was to be
+pitied. Anyone so exacting must be terribly unhappy.
+
+It was not in Nigel, either, to care long for anyone who cared for him
+so much. And even if Bertha, who was now his ideal and his dream, had
+been as devoted to him as Mary, and shown it in anything like the same
+sort of way, he would in time have become cool and ceased to appreciate
+her. He thought now that he would always adore her, and yet, when they
+had been actually engaged, it had been he who had allowed it to lapse.
+He might think that he cared for her far more now and understood her
+better, and now no worldly object would induce him to give up the
+possibility of their passing their lives together. And yet the fact
+remained. She had loved him as a girl--worshipped him. But he had broken
+it off. So now that he has lost all hope of his wish, he does not,
+strictly speaking, deserve any sympathy; yet all emotional suffering
+appeals to one's pity rather than to one's sense of justice. And Nigel
+was miserable.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The letter Bertha had sent him the other day, though it put an end to
+their meeting, had a sort of fragrance; a tender kindness about it. He
+could make himself believe that she also was a little sorry. Perhaps she
+did it more from motives of duty than from her own wish; something about
+it left a little glamour, and he had still hope that somehow or other
+circumstances might alter so much that even so they might be friends
+again. But now! it was very different. Percy's quiet satisfaction showed
+that they were on the most perfect terms, and he could imagine Bertha's
+delight--her high spirits--and her charming little ways of showing her
+pleasure. It forced itself on his mind against his will, that she was
+very much in love with Percy after all these ten years, difficult as it
+seemed to him to realise it.
+
+So they were hardly going out any more! So they were going to the
+country early to have a sort of second honeymoon! It seemed to him that
+after ten years of gay camaraderie they were now suddenly going to
+behave like lovers, like a newly married young couple.
+
+How sickening it was, and how absorbed she would be now! People always
+made much more of an event like that when it happened after some years.
+Personally he tried to think it made him like her less, at any rate it
+seemed to make her far more removed from him. But all the real
+estrangement had been caused undoubtedly by his wife.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the whole, to be just, that pompous ass, as he called him, Percy
+Kellynch, had really behaved very well. He had accused Nigel of nothing;
+he had suggested nothing about his wife, who was still, evidently, on a
+pedestal; he had really done the right thing and been considerate to her
+in the highest degree. Any man who cared for his wife would have
+naturally requested him, Nigel, to keep away. And it was really decent,
+frightfully decent of him, to let him see the letters, really kind and
+fair. Of course what put old Percy in a good temper, in spite of all,
+was this news, and, no doubt, Bertha was being angelic to him.
+
+Nigel made up his mind to try and throw it off. But he couldn't do it by
+staying with his wife.
+
+To look at her would be agonising now.
+
+Still he made up his mind he would be calm, he would not be unkind to
+her; he would be firm, and, as far as possible, have no sort of scene.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When he went in, she was sitting in the boudoir looking out of the
+window as usual. She saw him before he came in. It was not six o'clock
+yet and quite light.
+
+"Well, Nigel darling?" She ran up to him.
+
+He moved away.
+
+"Please don't, Mary. I've got something serious to speak to you about."
+
+She turned pale, guiltily.
+
+"What is it? What on earth is it?"
+
+"You shall hear. Shall we talk about it now, or wait till after dinner?
+I think I'd rather wait. I've got a bit of a headache."
+
+"After dinner, then," murmured Mary.
+
+This was very unlike her. Had she had nothing on her conscience, nothing
+she was afraid of, she would never have ceased questioning and worrying
+him to get it all out of him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He went up to his room, and asked her to leave him, and this she
+actually did. She wanted time to think!
+
+With the weak good nature that was in Nigel, curiously side by side with
+a certain cruel hardness, he now felt a little sorry for her. It must be
+awful to be waiting like this. And she really had been in the wrong. It
+was an appalling thing to do--mad, hysterical, dangerous. It might have
+caused far more trouble than it had! Suppose Percy had believed it all!
+
+Nigel thought of scandals, divorces, all sorts of things. Yes, after
+all, Kellynch had really been kind; and clever. He was not a bad sort.
+Then Nigel found that last little letter of Bertha's. How sweet it was!
+But he saw through it now, that she was deeply happy and didn't want to
+be bothered with him. She forgave the scene his wife had made at the
+party, as not one woman in a hundred would do--but she didn't want him.
+The moment she realised that he wanted to flirt with her, that there was
+even a chance of his loving her, she was simply bored. Yes, that was
+it--gay, amusing, witty, attractive Nigel bored her! Dull, serious,
+conventional Percy did not! She was in love with him.
+
+In books and plays it was always the other way: it was the husband that
+was the bore; but romances and comedies are often far away from life.
+Curious as it seemed, this was life, and Nigel realised it. He destroyed
+her letter and went down to dinner.
+
+They were quiet at dinner, talked a little only for the servants. Nigel
+asked about the little girl.
+
+"How's Marjorie getting on with her music lessons?"
+
+Mary answered in a low voice that the teacher thought she had talent.
+...
+
+They were left alone.
+
+"Well, what is it, Nigel?" She spoke in querulous, frightened voice.
+
+They were sitting in the boudoir again. Coffee had been left on the
+table.
+
+Nigel lighted a cigarette.
+
+He was still a little sorry for her. Then he said:
+
+"Look here, Mary, I'm sorry to say I've found out you've been doing a
+very terrible thing! I ask you not to deny it, because I know it. The
+only chance of our ever being in peace together again, or in peace at
+all, is for you to speak the truth."
+
+She did not answer.
+
+"I've forgiven heaps of things--frightful tempers, mad suspicions, that
+disgraceful scene you made at our party--but I always thought you were
+honourable and truthful. What you've done is very dishonourable. Don't
+make it worse by denying it." He paused. "You have written five
+anonymous letters, dictated in typewriting, about me and Mrs. Kellynch
+to her husband. I don't know what you thought, but you certainly tried
+to give the impression that our harmless conversations meant something
+more. That there was an intrigue going on. Did you really think this,
+may I ask?"
+
+"Yes, I did," she said, in a low voice, looking down.
+
+"Well, first allow me to assure you that you are entirely wrong. It was
+completely false. Can't you see now how terrible it was to suggest these
+absolute lies as facts to her husband? Did you write the letters?"
+
+"Yes, I did; I was in despair. I couldn't think of anything else to stop
+it."
+
+Nigel gave a sigh of relief.
+
+"Thank God you've admitted it, Mary. I'm glad of that. At least if we
+have the truth between us, we know where we are."
+
+"Did she--did she--tell you?"
+
+"She knows nothing whatever about it," said Nigel. "She has never been
+told, and never will be. You need worry no more about the letters. Her
+husband gave them to me this afternoon, and I destroyed them before him.
+And he doesn't know who wrote them."
+
+Nigel forgot that he had told Percy or did not choose to say.
+
+"They're completely wiped out, and will be forgotten by the person to
+whom you sent them. The whole affair is cleared up and finished and
+regarded as an unfortunate act of folly."
+
+"Oh, Nigel!" Mary burst into tears. "You're very good."
+
+"Now listen, Mary ... I can't endure to stay with you any more at
+present."
+
+"What!" she screamed.
+
+"If I continue this existence with you I shall grow to hate it. I wish
+to go away for a time."
+
+"You want to leave me!"
+
+"Unless I go now for a time to try and get over this act of yours, I
+tell you frankly that I shall leave you altogether."
+
+He spoke sternly.
+
+"If you will have the decency not to oppose my wishes, I will go away
+for six or seven weeks, and when I come back we'll try and take up our
+life again a little differently. You must be less jealous and exacting
+and learn to control yourself. I will then try to forget and we'll try
+to get on better together. But I must go. My nerves won't stand it any
+longer."
+
+She sobbed, leaning her head on the back of an arm-chair.
+
+"If you agree to this without the slightest objection," said Nigel, "I
+will come and join you and the children somewhere in the first week in
+August. Till then I'm going abroad, but I don't exactly know where. You
+shall have my address, and, of course, I shall write. I may possibly go
+to Venice. I have a friend there."
+
+She still said nothing, but cried bitterly. She was in despair at the
+idea of his leaving her, but secretly felt she might have been let off
+less lightly.
+
+One thing Nigel resolved. He would not let her know he had been
+forbidden the house. She would be too pleased at having succeeded. But
+he said:
+
+"One thing you may as well know, I shall see nothing more of the
+Kellynches, because they are going into the country in a few days. They
+have had no quarrel, they are perfectly devoted to each other, and she
+has not the faintest idea of it. So you see you haven't done the harm,
+or caused the pain you tried to, except to me. I was ashamed when I
+saw----"
+
+"Oh, Nigel, forgive me! I am sorry! Don't go away!"
+
+"Unless I go away now, I shall go altogether. Don't cry. Try to cheer
+up!"
+
+With these words he left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+MISS BELVOIR
+
+
+We left Bertha and Madeline in the lift going up to call on Miss
+Belvoir. This lady was sitting by the fire, holding a screen. She came
+forward and greeted them with great cordiality. She was a small, dark,
+amiable-looking woman about thirty. Her hair and eyes were of a
+blackness one rarely sees, her complexion was clear and bright, her
+figure extremely small and trim. Without being exactly pretty, she was
+very agreeable to the eye, and also had the attraction of looking
+remarkably different from other people. Indeed her costume was so
+uncommon as to be on the verge of eccentricity. Her face had a slightly
+Japanese look, and she increased this effect by wearing a gown of which
+a part was decidedly Japanese. In fact it was a kimono covered with
+embroidery in designs consisting of a flight of storks, some
+chrysanthemums, and a few butterflies, in the richest shades of blue. In
+the left-hand corner were two little yellow men fighting with a sword
+in each hand; otherwise it was all blue. It was almost impossible to
+keep one's eyes from this yellow duel; the little embroidered figures
+looked so fierce and emotional and appeared to be enjoying themselves so
+much.
+
+The room in which Miss Belvoir received her friends was very large, long
+and low, and had a delightful view of the river from the Embankment. It
+was a greyish afternoon, vague and misty, and one saw from the windows
+views that looked exactly like pictures by Whistler. The room was
+furnished in a Post-Impressionist style, chiefly in red, black and
+brown; the colours were all plain--that is to say, there were no designs
+except on the ceiling, which was cosily covered with large, brilliantly
+tinted, life-sized parrots.
+
+Miss Belvoir's brother, Fred, often declared that when he came home
+late, which he generally did--between six and nine in the morning were
+his usual hours--he always had to stop himself from getting a gun, and
+he was afraid that some day he might lose his self-control and be
+tempted to shoot the parrots. He was an excellent shot.
+
+The room was full of low bookcases crammed with books, and large fat
+cushions on the floor. They looked extremely comfortable, but as a
+matter of fact nobody ever liked sitting on them. When English people
+once overcame their natural shyness so far as to sit down on them, they
+were afraid they would never be able to get up again.
+
+Three or four people were dotted about the room, but no one had ventured
+on the cushions. There was one young lady whose hair was done in the
+early Victorian style, parted in the middle, with bunches of curls each
+side. As far as her throat she appeared to be strictly a Victorian--very
+English, about 1850--but from that point she suddenly became Oriental,
+and for the rest was dressed principally in what looked like beaded
+curtains.
+
+Leaning on the mantelpiece and smoking a cigarette with great ease of
+manner was a striking and agreeable-looking young man, about eight and
+twenty, whom Miss Belvoir introduced as Mr. Bevan Fairfield. He was fair
+and good-looking, very dandified in dress, and with a rather humorously
+turned-up nose and an excessively fluent way of speaking.
+
+"I was just scolding Miss Belvoir," he said, "when you came in. She's
+been playing me the trick she's always playing. She gets me here under
+the pretext that some celebrity's coming and then they don't turn up.
+Signor Semolini, the Futurist, I was asked to meet. And then she gets a
+telegram--or says she does--that he can't come. Very odd, very curious,
+they never can come--at any rate when I'm here. Some people would rather
+say, 'Fancy, I was asked to Miss Belvoir's the other day to meet
+Semolini, only he didn't turn up,' than not say anything at all. Some
+people think it's a distinction not to have met Semolini at Miss
+Belvoir's."
+
+"It's quite a satisfactory distinction," remarked Bertha. "Semolini has
+been to see us once, but he really isn't very interesting."
+
+"Ah, but still you're able to say that. I sha'n't be able to say, 'I met
+Semolini the other day, and, do you know, he's such a disappointment.'"
+
+"Well, I couldn't help it, Bevan," murmured Miss Belvoir, smiling.
+
+"No, I know you couldn't help it. Of course you couldn't help it. That's
+just it--you never expected the man. I went to lunch with another liar
+last week--I beg your pardon, Miss Belvoir--who asked me to meet Duse.
+She was so sorry she couldn't come at the last minute. She sent a
+telegram. Well, all I ask is, let me see the telegram."
+
+"But you couldn't; he 'phoned," objected Miss Belvoir.
+
+"So you _say_," returned the young man, as he passed a cup of tea to
+Bertha.
+
+"Will you have China tea and lemon and be smart, or India tea and milk
+and sugar and enjoy it? I don't mind owning that I like stewed tea--I
+like a nice comfortable washer-woman's cup of tea myself. Well, I
+suppose we're all going to the Indian ball at the Albert Hall. What are
+you all going as? I suppose Miss Belvoir's going as a nautch-girl, or a
+naughty girl or something."
+
+"I'm going as a Persian dancer," said Miss Belvoir.
+
+"I'm not going as anything," said Bertha. "I hate fancy balls. One takes
+such a lot of trouble and then people look only at their own dresses. If
+you want to dress up for yourself, you'd enjoy it just as much if you
+dressed up alone, I think."
+
+"Well, of course it's not so much fun for women," said Mr. Fairfield.
+"You are always more or less in fancy dress; it's no change for you. But
+for us it is fun. The last one I went to I had a great success as a
+forget-me-not. Miss Belvoir and I met an elephant, an enormous creature,
+galumphing along, knocking everybody down, and wasn't it clever of me? I
+recognised it! 'Good heavens!' I exclaimed, 'this must be the
+Mitchells!' And so it turned out to be. Mr. Mitchell was one leg, Mrs.
+Mitchell the other, two others were their great friends and their
+little nephew was the trunk. Frightfully uncomfortable, but they did
+attract a great deal of attention. They nearly died of the stuffiness,
+but they took a prize. My friend Linsey usually takes a prize, though he
+always contrives some agonising torture for himself. The last time he
+was a letter-box, and he was simply dying of thirst and unable to move.
+I saved his life by pouring some champagne down the slit for the
+letters, on the chance. Another friend of mine who was dressed in a real
+suit of armour had to be lifted into the taxi, and when he arrived home
+he couldn't get out. When he at last persuaded the cabman to carry him
+to his door--it was six o'clock in the morning--the man said, 'Oh, never
+mind, sir, we've had gentlemen worse than this!' And the poor fellow
+hadn't had a single drop or crumb the whole evening, because his visor
+was down and he couldn't move his arm to lift it up. If you went as
+anything, Mrs. Kellynch, you ought to be a China Shepherdess. I never
+saw anyone so exactly like one."
+
+"And what ought I to go as?" asked Madeline.
+
+"You would look your best as a Florentine page," replied Mr. Fairfield.
+"Or both of you would look very nice as late Italians."
+
+"I'm afraid we shall be late Englishwomen unless we go now," said
+Bertha. "I can only stay a very few minutes to-day, Miss Belvoir."
+
+They persuaded her to remain a little longer, and Mr. Fairfield
+continued to chatter on during the remainder of their visit. He did not
+succeed in persuading them to join in making up the party for the Indian
+ball.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+MARY'S PLAN
+
+
+Mary was so terrified that Nigel might keep his threat altogether and
+really leave her permanently that she made less opposition than he
+expected. She felt instinctively that it was her only chance of getting
+him back. She could see when he really meant a thing, and this time it
+was evident he intended to follow out his scheme, and she could not help
+reflecting that it might have been very much worse. How much more angry
+many husbands might have been! On the whole she had been let off fairly
+lightly. There was this much of largeness in Nigel's nature that he
+could not labour a point, or nag, or scold, or bully. He was really
+shocked and disgusted, besides being very angry at what she had done,
+and he did not at all like to dwell on it. He was even grateful that she
+spared him discussions of the subject, and sincerely thankful that she
+had admitted it. All men with any generosity in their temperament are
+disarmed by frankness, and most irritated by untruth. He wondered at her
+daring, and when she humbly owned she saw how dreadful it was--that she
+saw it in the right light and would never be tempted to do anything of
+the sort again--he was glad to forgive her. But he wanted to go away and
+forget it, and he certainly made up his mind to make the whole affair an
+excuse for having more freedom. He had never been away without her for
+more than a day, and he looked forward to it with great pleasure. He
+determined to let his journey help to cure him of his passion for
+Bertha, though it seemed at present an almost impossible task.
+
+He was resolved to strike when the iron was hot, and to get away while
+she was in this docile mood. She was gentle and quiet and seemed very
+unhappy, but made no objections to his plans; she would not, perhaps,
+have minded his leaving her for a day or two, since she felt
+uncomfortable and in the wrong, but she dreaded his being away for
+weeks. He said he would join Rupert at Venice; and this she rather
+preferred, as Rupert was known to be a quiet, steady, studious young
+man.
+
+But when the last moment came and the packed trunks were put on the cab,
+he had said good-bye to her and the children and that last terrible bang
+of the hall door resounded in her heart, she could not look out of the
+window in her usual place. She had felt the agony known to all loving
+hearts, the conviction that a traveller is already at a distance before
+he goes. He is no longer with her when his thoughts are with stations
+and tickets--indeed the real parting is long before he starts. Then the
+unconscious sparkle of pleasure in his eyes as he imagines himself away!
+He had gone already before he went; she did not want to see the last of
+him. She went up to her room and locked the door, and threw herself on
+the sofa in a terrible fit of despair and jealousy. Jealousy still, that
+was her great fear of his going away. He would forget her and be
+unfaithful, she thought. ...
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+She suffered terribly that evening, and the next day resolved to take a
+somewhat singular step. If she had been doing Bertha an injustice, as it
+seemed, if Bertha was not seeing him at all, why should she not go and
+see her? She felt instinctively that besides getting the truth out of
+her, and perhaps apologising for what had happened at the party, Bertha
+might give her some advice. Everyone said she was so kind and clever.
+She decided not to write, but she rang up on the telephone and asked if
+Bertha would receive her at three o'clock. She felt a strange
+curiosity, a longing to see her. She received the answer, Mrs. Kellynch
+would be delighted to see her at any time in the afternoon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+PRIVATE FIREWORKS AT THE PICKERINGS'
+
+
+"I say, Clifford, when is your birthday?" This momentous question was
+asked of Clifford with the liveliest interest by Cissy Pickering, a
+remarkably pretty little girl of about his own age.
+
+They were in the gigantic and gorgeous apartment set apart as a playroom
+for the young Pickerings in Hamilton Place, Park Lane, and arranged
+partly as a gymnasium--it had all the necessities--partly as a
+schoolroom. It contained a magnificent dolls' house fitted up with Louis
+Quinze furniture and illuminated with real electric light; a miniature
+motor car in which two small people could drive themselves with
+authentic petrol round and round the polished floor; a mechanical
+rocking-horse; a miniature billiard-table and croquet set; a gramophone;
+cricket on the hearth, roller-skates; a pianola, and countless other
+luxuries.
+
+Decorated by illustrations of fairy tales on the walls, it was
+altogether a delightful room; made for all a child could want.
+
+It is all very well to say that children are happier with mud pies and
+rag dolls than with these elaborate delights. There may be something in
+this theory, but when their amusements are carried to such a point of
+luxurious and imaginative perfection it certainly gives them great and
+even unlimited enjoyment at the time. Whether such indulgence and
+realisation of youthful dreams have a good effect on the character in
+later life is a different question. At any rate, to go to tea with the
+Pickerings was the dream of all their young friends and gave them much
+to think of and long for, while it gave to the young host and hostess
+immense gratification and material pride.
+
+"My birthday? Oh, I don't know--oh, it's on the twenty-seventh May,"
+said Clifford, who was far more shy of the young lady than of her
+mother.
+
+"Fancy! Just fancy! and mine's on the twenty-eighth June! _Isn't_ it
+funny!"
+
+Cissy was surprised at almost everything. It added to her popularity.
+
+"Not particularly."
+
+"Oh, Clifford!"
+
+"You must be born some time or other, I mean," he said, wriggling his
+head and twisting his feet, as he did when he felt embarrassed. Miss
+Pickering made him feel embarrassed because she asked so many direct
+personal questions, seemed so interested and surprised at everything,
+and volunteered so much private--but, it seemed to him,
+unimportant--information.
+
+"My name is Cecilia Muriel Margaret Pickering. My birthday's on the
+twenty-eighth June, and Eustace's birthday is on the fifteenth February.
+Isn't it funny?"
+
+"No, not at all," said Clifford.
+
+"His name is Eustace Henry John Pickering, after father. At least John's
+after father and Henry's after grandpapa--I mean, mummy's father, you
+know. Eustace is just a fancy name--a name mummy thought of. Do you like
+it?"
+
+"Not much."
+
+"Oh, Clifford! Why not?"
+
+"Well, it's rather a queer name."
+
+"Do you call him Eustace?"
+
+"I call him Pickering, of course," said Clifford. "At school we don't
+know each other's Christian names."
+
+"Oh! ... Did you know mine before you came here, Clifford?"
+
+"No. I only knew he had a kiddy sister, but he didn't tell me your
+name."
+
+She looked rather crushed. Cissy was a lovely child with golden hair,
+parted on one side, and a dainty white and pink dress like a doll. Cissy
+was in love with Clifford, but Clifford was in love with her mother.
+This simple nursery tragedy may sound strange, but as a matter of fact
+it is a kind of thing that happens every day. Similar complications are
+to be found in almost every schoolroom.
+
+"I hope you don't mind my saying that," said Clifford, who began to be
+sorry for her. "About your being a kid. It doesn't matter a bit--for a
+girl."
+
+"Oh, Clifford! No, I don't mind." She smiled at him, consoled. "Eustace
+will soon be home. He's gone to get something."
+
+"Oh, good."
+
+"Do you mind his not being here yet?"
+
+"No, not a bit."
+
+"You told me you had something to show me," said the little girl.
+"You've been writing poetry. I _should_ so like to see it."
+
+He blushed and said: "I've brought it. But I don't think it's any good.
+I don't think I'll show it to you."
+
+"Oh, please, please, _please_, do!"
+
+"You'll go telling everyone. Girls always do."
+
+"I promise, I _swear_ I won't! Not a soul. Not even mummy. I never tell
+Eustace's secrets."
+
+"I should think not! Now mind you don't, then. Will you, Cissy?"
+
+"Oh, do go on, dear Clifford; because when Eustace is here we shall have
+to play games--'Happy Families' or something--and I sha'n't have another
+chance. I believe he's got some joke on. I hear you've written a play.
+Have you?"
+
+"Well, I began an historical play," said Clifford, who was beginning to
+think a little sister with proper respect for one might be rather a
+luxury, "but I chucked it. I found it was rather slow. So then I tried
+to write a poem. But I'm not going to grow up and be one of those rotten
+poets with long hair, that you read of. Don't think that."
+
+"Aren't you? Oh, that's right. What are you going to be, Clifford?"
+
+"Oh! I think I shall be an inventor or an explorer, and go out after the
+North or South Pole, or shoot lions."
+
+"Oh! How splendid! Won't you take me? I'd _love_ to come!"
+
+He smiled. "It wouldn't do for girls."
+
+"But I sha'n't be a girl then. I'll be grown-up. _Do_ let me come!"
+
+"We'll see. Don't bother."
+
+"Well! Show me the poem," she said, for she already had the instinct to
+see that it pleased him and interested him much more to show her what he
+was doing at present than to make promises and plans about her future.
+
+They went and sat on the delightful wide-cushioned window-seat. Clifford
+pulled out of his pocket a crumpled paper, covered with pencil marks. He
+curled himself up, and Cissy curled herself up beside him and looked
+over his shoulder.
+
+He began: "I'm afraid this one's no use--no earthly---- I say, Cissy,
+take your hair out of my eyes."
+
+She shook it back and sat a little farther off, with her eyes and mouth
+open as he read in a rather gruff voice:
+
+"Sonnet."
+
+"What's a sonnet, Clifford?"
+
+He was rather baffled. "This is."
+
+He went on:
+
+    "'_The day when first I saw
+         Her standing by the door,
+       I was taken by surprise
+       By her pretty blue eyes,
+         And then I thought her hair
+         So very fair
+       That I felt inclined to sing
+         About Mrs. Pickering._'"
+
+"Lovely! How beautiful!" exclaimed Cissy, like a true woman. "But Mrs.
+Pickering! Fancy! Does it mean mummy?"
+
+"Why, yes. As a matter of fact it certainly _does_."
+
+"Oh, Clifford! _How_ clever! How splendid! But mustn't she know it?"
+
+"Oh no. I'd rather not. At any rate, not now."
+
+"I wish it was to me!" exclaimed the child. "Then you needn't be so shy
+about it. Why don't you change it to me? Look here--like this. Say:
+
+    "'_I felt inclined to sing
+       About Cissy Pickering._'
+
+Cissy instead of _Mrs._!"
+
+"Oh no, my dear. That wouldn't do at all. It isn't done. You can't alter
+a sonnet to another person. If it came to that I'd sooner write one to
+you as well, some time or another, when you're older."
+
+"Oh, _do_, _dear_ Cliff! I _should_ love it."
+
+"All right. Perhaps I will some day. But, you see, just now I want to do
+the one about _her_."
+
+"It's very nice and polite of you," she said in a doubting voice. "But
+you said you'd done some more."
+
+"Rather. So I have. You mustn't think it's cheek, you know, if I call
+your mother by her Christian name in the poetry. It's only for the
+rhyme."
+
+Blushing and apologetically he read aloud in his gruff, shy voice:
+
+    "'_Geraldine, Geraldine,
+       She has the nicest face I have ever seen,
+           She did not say
+           Until the other day
+       That I might call her Geraldine,
+       And I think she is like a Queen._'
+
+"As a matter of fact she never said it at all," said the boy, folding it
+up. "That's only because it's poetry. And I only used her name for the
+rhyme."
+
+"Yes, I see. You're very clever!"
+
+"Don't you see any faults in it? I wish you'd tell me straight out
+exactly what you think, if you see anything wrong," said Clifford, like
+all young writers who think they are pining for criticism but are really
+yearning for praise. "I would like," he said, "for you to find any fault
+you possibly could! Say exactly what you really mean."
+
+He really thought he meant it.
+
+"Well, I don't see _one_ fault! I think it's perfect," replied Cissy,
+like all intelligent women in love with the writer. Her instinct warned
+her against finding any fault. Had she found any it would have been the
+only thing Clifford would have thought she happened to be wrong about.
+As it was, his opinion of her judgment and general mental capacity went
+up enormously, and he decided that she was a very clever kid. A decent
+little girl too, and not at all bad looking.
+
+"But aren't they a little short, Cissy?" he asked.
+
+"Perhaps they are. But you can easily make them longer, can't you?"
+
+"Oh yes, rather, of course I can."
+
+"Don't you want mummy to see them?"
+
+"Oh no, I don't think I do; wouldn't she laugh at me?"
+
+"Oh no, I'm sure she wouldn't, Clifford. She's coming to have tea with
+us to-night."
+
+"Well, mind you don't tell," he said threateningly.
+
+"Of course, I won't. You can trust me. I say, Clifford."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"What do you think I used to want to do?"
+
+"Haven't the slightest idea."
+
+She hesitated a moment. "Shall I tell you?"
+
+"If you like."
+
+"Well, I used to want to marry Henry Ainley!"
+
+"Did you, though," said Clifford, not very interested.
+
+"Yes. But I don't now."
+
+"Don't you, though?"
+
+"No, not the least bit."
+
+"Did he want to marry you?" asked Clifford. This idea occurred to him as
+being conversational, but he was still not interested.
+
+"Oh, good gracious, no!" she exclaimed. "Of course not! rather not! Why,
+he doesn't know me. And if he did he would think I was a little girl."
+
+"Well, so you are," said Clifford.
+
+"I know. Shall I tell you why I don't want to marry Henry Ainley any
+more?"
+
+"You can if you want to." These matrimonial schemes seemed to bore him,
+but he thought he ought to endure them as a matter of fair play, as she
+had listened to his poetry.
+
+"Well, I don't care so much about marrying him now, because I should
+like to marry you!"
+
+"Me! Oh, good Lord, I don't want to be engaged, thanks."
+
+"Oh, Clifford, do!"
+
+"None of the chaps at school are engaged. It isn't done. Being engaged
+is rot. Pickering isn't engaged."
+
+"Yes; but I don't see why we shouldn't," she said, pouting.
+
+"Well, I do, and I sha'n't be."
+
+"But mightn't you later on, when we're older?" she implored.
+
+"Why, no, I shouldn't think so. Why, your mother would be very angry.
+You're only twelve. You're not out. You can't be engaged before you're
+out. Your mother would think it awful cheek of me."
+
+"Well, I won't say anything more about it now," she said. "But,
+Clifford, will you, _perhaps_, _when_ I am out?"
+
+"Oh, good Lord! What utter bosh. How do I know what I'll do when you're
+out?"
+
+She began to look tearful.
+
+"Oh, well, all right. I'll see. Perhaps I may. Mind, I don't promise."
+
+He was thinking that if he refused her irrevocably and unconditionally
+he might not be asked to the house again. And he liked going on account
+of Pickering, Mrs. Pickering, and the house.
+
+"Look here," he said after a moment's pause. "Let's forget all about
+this. I don't think your mother would like it."
+
+"You think so much of my mother," she answered.
+
+"Well, I should think so, don't you?"
+
+"Oh yes, Clifford, I love her, of course."
+
+"Well, then, don't you want me to like her?"
+
+"Oh yes; but not much more than me."
+
+"Oh, well, I can't help that," he said very decidedly.
+
+She looked subdued.
+
+"Then you do like me a little bit too, Clifford?"
+
+"Yes, of course. I say, don't worry."
+
+"All right, I beg your pardon, Clifford. ... Oh, there's Eustace!"
+
+His step was heard. When his friends were there his sister called him
+Pickering, not to be out of it.
+
+"Won't you kiss me to show you're not cross with me, Clifford?"
+
+"Yes, if you like, my dear. But we're not engaged, you know."
+
+"Right-o," she answered.
+
+He kissed her hurriedly and Eustace came in. Eustace was a big dark thin
+boy of fourteen, not good-looking or like his sister in any way, but
+with a very pleasant humorous expression. He was remarkably clever at
+school, and his reports were, with regard to work, quite unusually high.
+Conduct was not so satisfactory, though he was popular both with boys
+and masters. His two hobbies were chemistry and practical jokes.
+Unfortunately the clear distinction between the two was not always
+sufficiently marked; the one merged too frequently into the other. Hence
+occasional trouble.
+
+Eustace had his arms full of parcels, which looked rather exciting. He
+informed his delighted sister and friend that they were going to have
+private fireworks on the balcony.
+
+"Gracious, how ripping!" cried Clifford. "But it isn't the fifth of
+November."
+
+"Who on earth ever said it was?"
+
+"Is it anybody's birthday?" asked Cissy.
+
+"I daresay," said Pickering. "Sure to be."
+
+"But you don't know that it's anybody's birthday for a fact, do you?"
+
+"Yes, I do. It's a dead cert that it's somebody's. Somebody's born every
+day. It's probably several people's birthday."
+
+"But you don't know whose?"
+
+"No. I don't know whose and I don't want to; what does it matter? Who
+cares?"
+
+They both laughed heartily. It was so like Pickering! That was Pickering
+all over to give an exhibition of fireworks in honour of the birthday of
+somebody he didn't know anything about, or in honour of its not being
+the fifth November.
+
+"But will mummy mind? Won't she be afraid?"
+
+"She won't mind, because she won't know. And she won't be afraid because
+she and father are going out to dinner and they won't hear anything
+about it until all the danger's over. I've got rockets and Bengal
+lights and all sorts of things here."
+
+"But suppose they catch fire to the curtains on the balcony and we have
+a fire-escape here," suggested Cissy.
+
+"Well, and wouldn't that be ripping?"
+
+They admitted that it would.
+
+"Have you ever been down a fire-escape, Clifford?" asked Pickering.
+
+"Me? Down a fire-escape? Wait a minute, let me think. No, no. Now I come
+to think of it, upon my word, I don't think I ever have. Not down a
+_fire-escape_."
+
+"Ah, I thought not," said Pickering knowingly, as if he had spent his
+life doing nothing else. "No, you wouldn't have."
+
+"Well, have you?"
+
+"Me?" said Pickering. "Well, I don't know that I have, _exactly_. But I
+know all about it. Besides I once drove to a fire with one of the
+firemen. It was jolly."
+
+"But you're not going to give a fire-escape performance to-night, are
+you? I thought you were only going to have fireworks."
+
+"Yes, of course, that's all, and there's no danger really. How surprised
+the people in the street will be when they see those ripping rockets go
+whizzing up! I daresay we shall have a crowd round us."
+
+"But I say, Eustace. Won't mummy say it's _vulgar_?"
+
+"What's vulgar?"
+
+"Why, to have fireworks. She says we oughtn't to attract too much
+attention and do anything ostentatious. She often says so."
+
+"Oh, my dear, that's all right. These are _private_ fireworks! No one
+will know about it."
+
+"But you'll have to tell Wenham," said Cissy.
+
+Wenham was a confidential butler who helped Pickering out of many
+scrapes.
+
+"Of course I shall tell Wenham; at least, I shall as soon as they have
+started. Now shut up about it. Here's mummy."
+
+Pretty Mrs. Pickering joined them at tea, played games with them--they
+did some delightful charades--and amused them and herself until it was
+time for her to go and dress for dinner, leaving Clifford more enchanted
+with her than ever.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+About a quarter to eight the children had the house more or less to
+themselves. Cissy's governess had a holiday and the aged nurse (who had
+no sort of control over Pickering) was the only person there who had
+even a shadow of authority. She was to see that Cissy didn't play wild
+games, and went to bed at half-past eight, but as a matter of fact the
+aged nurse did neither. Cissy stayed with the boys as long as they
+would allow her. At last the joyous moment arrived, they went on the
+balcony and Pickering started his first rocket. Cissy, a little
+frightened, clung to Clifford.
+
+"Suppose we have a crowd round the house," she murmured.
+
+"You see how easy it is," Pickering said. "Anyone with a little sense
+can do it. Now! Now, Cissy! get out of the way!"
+
+They waited and waited. But, alas! nothing happened. He tried again and
+yet again, but it turned out a failure, the sort of tragedy that is more
+disappointing than any danger or even any accident. ... It fell
+completely flat.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There must have been something the matter with the infernal fireworks.
+It couldn't have been Pickering not knowing how to do them.
+
+That was impossible, simply because Pickering always knew how to do
+everything.
+
+The wretched man who sold them to him must have cheated.
+
+It was a terrible _fiasco_. Not a single one of the rotten things went
+off. The most awful thing happened that could happen in life. After
+great fear, hope, suspense, excitement and joy, _the squibs were damp_!
+
+Nothing went off. Nothing happened. As to the Bengal fire, nothing was
+ever seen of it but some damp paper and a very horrible scent.
+
+Certainly there was no vulgarity about it, no ostentation, except the
+perfume. The fireworks were as private as they could possibly be!
+
+"At any rate," said Cissy, trying to console her guest, "perhaps it's
+better than if the house had caught fire and we had all been burnt up!"
+
+They weren't so very sure. It wouldn't have been so flat.
+
+Then Pickering made an attempt to imply that the whole thing was simply
+a practical joke of his.
+
+"Well, if it is," said Clifford to himself, "by Jove, if it is--it's the
+greatest success I've ever seen in my life!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+NIGEL ABROAD
+
+
+Nigel "ran across" Rupert in Paris--Englishmen who are acquainted with
+each other always do meet in Paris--and they agreed to dine together.
+Each was pleased to see the other, not so much for each other's own
+sake, but for the pleasure of associations. The sight of Rupert reminded
+Nigel of one of the pleasantest evenings in his life--that evening they
+had spent at the Russian Ballet. Bertha had sat next to him. Bertha had
+been delightful. She had looked lovely and laughed at his jokes, and had
+been all brightness and amiability--it had been before the first shadow,
+the first thought of _arriere pensee_ had risen in her mind to cloud her
+light heart. And he at that time, with what he saw now to be his dense
+stupidity, had believed that she was beginning to like him, that she was
+even on the way to get to care for him in time if he managed with great
+tact and did not annoy Percy nor seem wanting in deference for him, and
+above all if he did not give it away about Mary's jealousy. He always
+knew that if Bertha once learnt that, it would be fatal to his hopes.
+She was never to know it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And now everything had come out, everything had gone wrong in the most
+horrible, hideous way. It had all gone off like young Pickering's
+fireworks. When he remembered that dreadful scene at the party it made
+him shudder. How hopelessly stupid he had been to persuade her to come!
+How could he have been so idiotic? Looking at Rupert reminded him of the
+delightful little meetings and talks he had had with Bertha about him
+and Madeline. How charmingly grateful and delighted she had been at his
+offering to help her and smooth away the difficulties by diplomacy. And
+this was how he had done it! Madeline was now engaged to nobody.
+
+Bertha knew all about the jealousy and had been exposed to insults. And
+Percy knew even more about it than she did. Talk of diplomacy! Nigel
+must have been indeed a poor diplomatist, since, without having ever
+done the slightest harm or indeed really said a word of love to Bertha,
+he had yet brought her husband down upon him, forbidding him the house
+and sending him to the devil. That was diplomacy, wasn't it? and as to
+success, she regarded him with indifference bordering on aversion and
+was clearly madly in love with that dull uninteresting Percy. All (Nigel
+admitted), all his own stupidity. Whether or not wickedness is punished
+in another world, there can be no doubt that stupidity and folly is most
+decidedly punished in this.
+
+But then, could he help it that Mary went behind his back and wrote the
+most dreadful letters, that she had this terrible mania for writing
+letters? But if he had been so very clever and diplomatic he would
+somehow or another have prevented it. Oh yes, there was no doubt he was
+a fool, and he had without doubt been made supremely ridiculous. He was
+well aware that he was ridiculous.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rupert Denison liked Nigel, but he had no idea how intimate he was with
+Nigel. In other words he hadn't the faintest idea how well Nigel knew
+him. And this is a case which happens every day owing to the present
+custom of confidential gossip; and is too frequently rather unfairly
+arranged through the intimate friendship of women. For example,
+Madeline, regarding Bertha as the most confidential of sisters, told her
+every little thing, showed her every letter, and had no shadow of a
+secret from her in word or thought. Bertha was almost equally confiding
+except than an older married woman is never quite so frank with a girl
+friend--there must always be certain reservations. Bertha was an
+intimate friend of Nigel and practically told _him_ every little
+thing--he was "the sort of man you could tell everything to," he was
+interested, amused, and gave excellent advice. The result was obvious;
+very little about Rupert and his private romance with Madeline was
+unrevealed to Nigel.
+
+Nigel felt inclined to smile when he remembered all he had heard.
+Rupert, on the other hand, was not "the sort of man you could tell
+everything to"; he therefore had no confidential women friends and knew
+nothing at all about Nigel. For all he knew, he was just as much as ever
+_l'ami de la maison_ at Percy's house.
+
+At the very end of the dinner, which was a very pleasant one, during
+which Nigel had been sparkling and Rupert a little quiet, Nigel suddenly
+"felt it in his bones," as Bertha used to say--dear Bertha, she used to
+declare that her bones were so peculiarly and remarkably sensitive to
+anything of interest--Nigel felt, as I say, Rupert was longing to talk
+about Madeline.
+
+He therefore led the conversation to her, remarked how quiet she had
+been of late, and told him various things about her.
+
+"Did she ever mention me?" asked Rupert, as he looked down at his
+wineglass.
+
+"Oh yes, rather."
+
+"What did she say?"
+
+"She said," replied Nigel, "that she was jolly glad she never saw you
+now and that you were a silly rotter!"
+
+"I recognise Miss Madeline's style," replied Rupert with a smile, as he
+rose from the table.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+MOONA
+
+
+Like all cultivated people, particularly those who attach much
+importance to pleasure and amusement, variety, art, and the play, Nigel
+was very fond of Paris; it always pleased him to go there; and yet he
+doubted if he were quite as fond of it in reality as he was in theory.
+The best acting, the best cooking, the best millinery in the world was
+to be found in Paris; and yet Nigel wasn't sure that he didn't enjoy
+those things more when he got them in London--that he enjoyed French
+cooking best in an English restaurant, and even a French play at an
+English theatre. Certainly Paris was the centre of art. Nigel was fond
+of pictures, and he amused himself more with a few young French artists
+whom he happened to know living here than with anybody else in the city;
+and yet when he went back to London he sometimes felt that the
+recollection of it, the chatter of studios, the slang of the critics,
+even the whole sense and sound of Paris gave him a little the
+recollection as of a huge cage of monkeys. Like most modern Englishmen,
+he talked disparagingly about British hypocrisy, Anglo-Saxon humbug,
+English stiffness and London fog; and yet, after all, he missed and
+valued these very things. Wasn't the fog and the hypocrisy--one was the
+symbol of the other--weren't all these things the very charm of London?
+Fog and hypocrisy--that is to say, shadow, convention, decency--these
+were the very things that lent to London its poetry and romance.
+
+Everything in Paris, it was true, was picturesque, everything had colour
+and form, everything made a picture. But it was all too obvious;
+everything was all there ready for one's amusement, ready for one's
+pleasure. People were too obliging, too willing. And the men! Well,
+Nigel was far more of a _viveur_, of a lover of pleasure than
+ninety-nine Englishmen out of a hundred, yet he found too much of that
+point of view among the men he came across in Paris. From boys to old
+gentlemen, from the artists to a certain set among the _haute
+finance_--of whom he had some acquaintances--from the sporting young
+sprig of the Faubourg to the son of the sham jeweller in the Rue de
+Rivoli--all, without a single exception, seemed to think of nothing else
+but pleasure, in other words, of _les petites femmes_. For that--paying
+attention more or less serious to _les petites femmes_--seemed the one
+real idea of pleasure. Of this point of view Nigel certainly grew very
+tired, and he marvelled at the wonderful energy, the unflagging interest
+in the same eternal subject.
+
+They said, and of course thought, that there was nothing so charming as
+a French woman, particularly the Parisienne; but, except on one point,
+he was not entirely inclined to agree. This point was their dress. Their
+dress was delightful, their fashion was an art, and it had great, real
+charm. In whatever walk of life they were placed they were always
+exquisitely dressed. Nigel appreciated this sartorial gift, it was an
+art he understood and that amused, but weren't they on the whole--also
+in every walk of life--a little too much arranged, overdone, too much
+_maquillees_; weren't their faces too white, their lips too red, their
+hats too new? They knew how to put on their clothes to perfection, but
+he was not sure that he didn't prefer these beautiful clothes not quite
+so well put on; he thought he liked to see the pretty French dress put
+on a little wrong on a pretty Englishwoman; and then he thought of
+Bertha, of course. Nowhere in Paris was there anything quite like
+Bertha, that pink and white English complexion, that abundant fair hair,
+the natural flower-like look.
+
+Of course Bertha was unusually clever, lively and charming; she was not
+stiff or prim, she was very exceptional, but distinctly English, and he
+admired her more than all the Parisiennes in the world. Besides, he
+thought, one got very tired of them. When they _were bourgeoises_ they
+were so extremely _bourgeoises_; when they were smart they were so
+excessively _snob_. Perhaps it was through having seen a good deal of
+them for a little while that he met a compatriot of his with unexpected
+gratification.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He was walking with one of his artist friends on the boulevard when, to
+his great surprise, the artist was stopped by a young lady walking alone
+who evidently knew him. She was dressed in a very tight blue serge coat
+and skirt, she had black bandeaux of hair over her ears, from which
+depended imitation coral ear-rings. She had shoes with white spats, and
+a very small hat squashed over her eyes. She did not look in the least
+French. He knew her at once. It was the girl whose artistic education
+Rupert had at one time undertaken. It was Moona Chivvey.
+
+"Ah! Miss Chivvey! What a pleasure! And what are you doing here?"
+
+She replied that she and her friend, Mimsie Sutton, had taken a little
+studio and were studying art together with a number of other English
+and American girls with a great artist.
+
+Nigel's friend left his arm and went away. Nigel strolled on with Miss
+Chivvey.
+
+"And are you here quite alone with no chaperon," asked Nigel, with that
+momentary sort of brotherly feeling of being shocked that an Englishman
+nearly always feels when he sees a compatriot behaving unconventionally
+in a foreign land.
+
+"Chaperon! Oh! come off the roof," replied the young lady in her
+boisterous manner, which he saw had not at all toned down. "Of course
+I'm being chaperoned by Miss Sutton. I'm staying with Mimsie. Mother
+couldn't come, and didn't want me to come, but there's no hope of
+learning art in London; it's simply _hopeless_. You see we're serious,
+Mr. Hillier, we're studying really hard. We're going to do big things.
+Mimsie's a genius. I'm not; but I'm industrious. I'm a tremendous
+worker. Oh, I shall do something yet!"
+
+She was full of fire and enthusiasm, and continued to give him an
+immense quantity of information. He listened with interest and thought
+it rather touching. Of course she was genuine and believed in herself;
+equally, of course, she had no sort of talent. She was in a position in
+which no girl in her own class could be placed who was not English,
+except an American, and then it wouldn't be the same thing. No doubt she
+knew thoroughly well how to take care of herself, and most likely there
+was no need, even, that she should. Still, he thought it was rather
+pathetic that she should leave her parents and a thoroughly comfortable
+home in Camden Hill, in order to live in a wretchedly uncomfortable
+studio--he was sure it was wretchedly uncomfortable--and have a dull
+life with other depressing girls--all for the cultivation of a gift that
+was purely imaginary.
+
+"You must come and dine with me to-night, won't you, Miss Chivvey?"
+
+She was rather pretty, rather amusing, and she was English. He liked
+talking English again.
+
+"Well, I should like to very much, Mr. Hillier. Is your wife here?"
+
+"No; she's going to Felixtowe in a week or two with the children, and
+I'm going to join her there. I'm quite alone, so you must take pity on
+me. Must we have your friend Miss Sutton too?" he asked.
+
+"Oh no--I don't think it's necessary; it will be a change to go out
+without her. You see, here I am a worker and a Bohemian," she explained.
+"I don't go in for chaperons. I'm not social here!"
+
+"Besides, I'm English. You're all right with me," he returned in his
+most charming way. "Have you many English friends here?"
+
+He wanted to find out whether she was seeing Rupert; he soon discovered
+she was not, and he determined not to tell her of the presence of that
+young man. They might make it up, and Nigel thought it would be far
+better for Rupert to come back to Madeline. He was sure she was his real
+taste. And he still wanted to please Bertha.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They dined in a small but particularly excellent restaurant. She seemed
+to enjoy herself immensely, and grew every moment more confidential.
+Nigel tried not to flirt. He had no intention of doing so, and, had they
+met in London, would not have dreamt of such a thing; but meeting an
+English girl placed as she was gave a tinge of adventure and romance to
+his taking her out.
+
+She told him she had no flirtations and cared for no man in the world.
+He then led the conversation gradually to Rupert Denison. It did not
+take long for her to work herself up to give him a somewhat highly
+coloured version of their quarrel, which amused him. It ended with "and
+so I never saw him again."
+
+"I can't see that you have any real grievance, I must say. He seems to
+have been very nice to you, taken you out a great deal, and gone to see
+you pretty often. Did he not make love to you?"
+
+"Never, never, never," she replied. "He was just like a brother, or,
+rather, a sort of schoolmaster."
+
+"Then I believe that's what made you angry," he replied.
+
+"Indeed it isn't. At any rate, if it was a little, I assure you I'm not
+in love with him."
+
+He laughed, teased her about it, and now he found that she wished to go
+home. Feeling he ought not to take advantage of her position here, he
+was exceedingly respectful, and drove her to her flat, not before she
+had consented to dine and go to the theatre with him the next day.
+
+"That sort of girl is rather difficult to understand," he thought, as he
+drove away from the studio. "Perhaps now she's thinking me a fool as she
+thought Rupert."
+
+However, he remembered _he_ was married. He looked forward to the next
+evening with interest. At least Miss Chivvey was different from other
+people. One wasn't quite sure of her, and that fact had its attraction.
+She was really very good-looking too, very young, had beautiful eyes and
+teeth, and the high spirits of youth and health and enthusiasm. Pity
+she thought she could draw. How much better if she had gone in for
+first-rate plain cooking! He was sure she could learn that--if it was
+really plain.
+
+Next day he sent her a few flowers. After all, an Englishman must be
+gallant to his country-woman; but the next evening he thought she met
+him with a slightly cooler air and even with a little embarrassment.
+This melted away before the end of the evening.
+
+He then took her to the theatre in a little box. He was careful to
+choose a piece that he would have taken his own sister to see, but he
+forgot that he would not have let his own sister go to see it with a
+married man and no chaperon.
+
+His manner was becoming a shade more tender than was necessary, and he
+was sitting perhaps a shade nearer to her than was absolutely required,
+when, looking up, he saw two young men in the stalls, one of whom was
+looking at him and his companion with very great interest through an
+opera-glass. It was Rupert.
+
+Moona had not seen him, and Nigel now became aware of a distinct anxiety
+that she should not. He was rather sorry he had come: it might give
+Rupert a mistaken impression. It was not right to compromise her. He
+would explain, of course, the next day. But it was annoying to have to
+explain, and he would have explained anyhow. Nigel greatly disliked
+getting the credit, or, rather, the discredit, of something he did not
+deserve.
+
+He pretended to be bored with the play, and persuaded her to come and
+have an ice at a quiet and respectable place before she saw Rupert. She
+went in high spirits and great innocence.
+
+When they left Nigel said: "Do you know that I oughtn't to have taken
+you there to-night? It was wrong of me. If anyone had seen us there they
+would probably have mistaken our relations."
+
+She gave her boisterous laugh and said: "I see. Well, you would have had
+all the credit and none of the trouble."
+
+"You mean," he replied, "that I should have had all the infamy and none
+of the satisfaction."
+
+As they drove to the studio he took her hand and said: "One kiss."
+
+"Certainly not," she replied, taking it away. "Certainly not. Do you
+want me to be sorry I came out with you?"
+
+"I should like you to be glad," he replied. "Never mind, Miss Chivvey,
+forgive me. I won't ask you out again."
+
+"Why not? Haven't I been nice?"
+
+"Very nice. Too nice, too charming, too dangerous." He kissed her hand
+respectfully. "Good-bye. I'm angry with myself."
+
+"Never mind, I'll forgive you," she laughed flippantly.
+
+He drove away. Yes, one loses one's bearings travelling about alone,
+taking _jeunes filles_ to the theatre who live alone in Paris, say
+anything, have no chaperons, and are prudes all the time.
+
+"Confound it. I've made a fool of myself. But I must go and see Rupert."
+
+He lunched with that young man that day and told him word for word what
+had passed, even to the incident in the cab.
+
+He need not have been so expansive nor have humbled himself so much.
+
+Rupert had not for a moment misconstrued their presence at the theatre.
+
+Also he was not in the least surprised about the incident in the cab.
+
+Rupert was on the whole irritating. Nigel was glad to leave him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+TWO WOMEN
+
+
+Bertha was very much surprised at Mary's wishing to see her. She thought
+it most extraordinary and was much inclined to refuse, remembering the
+strangely insulting way Mary had behaved at her party. Nigel had
+apologised indeed; had implored for forgiveness; and she had written to
+say it was forgotten. But it is not an easy thing to forget.
+
+Percy had given a mild version of his interview with Nigel. He had also
+told her now about the destroyed letters. Bertha was certainly vexed
+that she had not been told before. It would have, at least, prevented
+her going to the party. However, she was soon tired of the subject and
+agreed with Percy not to mention it again. Bertha was, as she said
+herself, nothing of a harpist. She could not go on playing on one
+string. She made up her mind to forget it. She had begun to do so when
+Mary's telephone message reached her.
+
+Bertha was sitting by the fire when Mary was shown in. She looked at her
+most serene, her calmest and prettiest. It was not in her nature to bear
+malice nor even to be angry for more than a few hours about anything. By
+the end of that time she was always inclined to see the humorous side of
+anything, and to see that it was of less importance than appeared. She
+had already laughed several times to herself at the mere thought of the
+absurdity of a hostess asking one to her house and then behaving as Mary
+had done. Also she saw a comic--though pathetic--side to the typewritten
+letters. But it was painful, too, and she would very much rather have
+avoided this visit from Mrs. Hillier. It must be embarrassing for her,
+at least, and could hardly be other than disagreeable.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mary came in looking very pale and rather untidy. In the excitement of
+her mind and her general perturbation she had come out with two
+left-handed gloves, and during the whole of her visit endeavoured to
+force a left hand into a right-hand glove. It was maddening to watch
+her.
+
+Just as she started to go to see Bertha, poor Mary had gone to her
+toilet-table and put what she supposed to be powder lavishly on her nose
+without again looking in the glass. It was red rouge--the reddest and
+brightest. Although she afterwards rubbed a little of it off, she never
+saw herself in the glass again before starting. The result of this was
+to give her that touch of the grotesque that is so fatal to any scene of
+a serious nature but that in this case appealed to Bertha's kindness and
+sympathy rather than her sense of humour.
+
+"How are you, Mrs. Hillier? I have really hardly met you to speak to
+until to-day."
+
+"Good-morning, Mrs. Kellynch. ... It was kind of you to let me come."
+
+Mary sat down awkwardly and began to put her left hand into the
+right-hand glove. She sat near the light, and Bertha saw that she had
+been covering her face with what she supposed to be powder, but what was
+nothing else than carmine.
+
+Should she tell her?
+
+Could she let her remain in ignorance of this until afterwards? She
+would find it out when she went home.
+
+"I want to speak to you very much, Mrs. Kellynch. ... It is very
+awkward, but I feel I must."
+
+"Have some tea first," said Bertha, and while she poured it out and
+passed it to Mrs. Hillier she felt she could no longer leave her in
+ignorance of her appearance.
+
+She pointed to the silver looking-glass that stood on a small table, and
+said: "Mrs. Hillier, just look at that. I fancy you've put something on
+your face by mistake. Do forgive me!"
+
+Mary gave a shriek.
+
+"Good heavens, how horrible! I must have put rouge on instead of powder!
+I look like a comic actor!"
+
+Both of them laughed, and this rather cleared the air.
+
+"It was very good of you to tell me," said Mary. "Thank you. It's so
+like me! When I'm agitated I become too appallingly absent-minded for
+words. That's the sort of thing I do. How you must sneer--I mean, laugh
+at me, Mrs. Kellynch!"
+
+"Indeed not! What an idea. It could happen to anyone."
+
+"Well, I came to see you for two reasons. One is this: Mrs. Kellynch, I
+want to beg your pardon. I'm very, very sorry."
+
+"For what, Mrs. Hillier?"
+
+"For many things. I was horribly rude--I behaved shamefully at my party
+the other day. I must have been mad. I was so miserable." She said this
+in a low voice.
+
+Bertha held out her hand. The poor girl--she was not much more--looked
+so miserable, and had just looked so absurd! It must have been such a
+humiliation to know that one had called on one's rival got up like a
+comedian--a singer of comic songs at the Pavilion.
+
+"Mrs. Hillier, don't say any more. I quite forgive you, and will not
+think of it again. Don't let us talk of it any more. Have some more
+tea?"
+
+"No, thank you, Mrs. Kellynch. This isn't all. I have something else to
+tell you, and then I want, if I may, to consult you. I did a dreadful,
+dreadful thing! I don't know how I could! Oh, when I see you--when I
+look at you and see how sweet and kind you are----"
+
+Bertha, terrified that Mary would begin to cry and get hysterical, tried
+to stop her.
+
+"Don't, Mrs. Hillier. Don't tell me any more. It might--I guess what you
+are going to say--I know it might have caused great trouble. But it
+didn't. So never mind. You were upset--didn't think."
+
+"Oh no, Mrs. Kellynch; you must let me confess it. I sha'n't be at peace
+till I do. I want to tell--my husband--that I confessed and apologised.
+I actually wrote----"
+
+"Really, all this is unnecessary. You are giving us both unnecessary
+pain," said Bertha. "I know it--I guess it. Won't you leave it at that?
+All traces of--the trouble were destroyed, and, if you want to be kind
+to me now, you'll not speak of it any more."
+
+Mary had begun to cry, but she controlled herself, seeing it would
+please Bertha best.
+
+"Very well, I'll say no more. Only do, _do_ try to forgive me."
+
+"I do with all my heart."
+
+"Then you're angelic. Thank you." After a moment's pause, Mary put away
+her handkerchief.
+
+"Have a cigarette," suggested Bertha, who hardly knew what to do to
+compose her agitated visitor.
+
+"No, no, thank you. Mrs. Kellynch, may I really ask you a great, _great_
+favour?"
+
+"Please do."
+
+"May I consult you? I'm _so_ miserable--I'm wretched. Nigel has gone
+away and left me!"
+
+"Gone away."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But he'll come back? Surely, he means to come back?"
+
+"I _hope_ so. But he never left me before. Never since we have been
+married! And I am miserable. What shall I do--what can I do to make him
+fond of me?"
+
+This pathetic question brought tears to Bertha's eyes. She was truly
+sorry for the poor little creature.
+
+"Is he angry with you then?"
+
+"He's not exactly angry, now. He has been very kind. He has behaved
+beautifully. But he said he must go away for a time, and when he came
+back he would not refer to--to the subject of our quarrel again."
+
+"Well, that's all right then. There is no cause for being unhappy. It's
+nothing his going away for a week or two."
+
+"He says six weeks. Six long, dreadful weeks!"
+
+"Even _six_ weeks--it's nothing. After, you'll both be much happier, I'm
+sure," said Bertha consolingly. "Sometimes there is a sort of strain and
+a change is needed. It will be all right."
+
+"But, Mrs. Kellynch, you don't know--you don't understand. I have always
+been so terribly, madly jealous. I have worried him into it. You see--I
+can't help it, I love him so much! I do love him. You can't imagine what
+it is!"
+
+"Indeed I can!" cried Bertha. "I care _quite_ as much for Percy. You
+can't think how much."
+
+"Really and truly? But that's so different, because _he_ cares quite as
+much for you."
+
+"Indeed, I hope so," said Bertha seriously.
+
+"Yes. But Nigel doesn't--he's kind, but I don't think he cares much
+about me. What shall I do?"
+
+Bertha paused, deeply sorry. Then she said:
+
+"Nonsense! Of course he does, but you--if you'll excuse my saying
+so--you seem to worry him, to bother him with imaginary grievances, with
+unjust suspicious. What man will bear that?"
+
+"Then will you tell me what to do?" she asked, like a child.
+
+"First, don't beg him to come back. Write kindly, unselfishly,
+cheerfully."
+
+"Cheerfully! Oh, I can't."
+
+"Yes; you must if you want it to be all right. What man wants to be
+deluged with tears and complaints? Dear Mrs. Hillier, I'm speaking as a
+genuine friend. I'm speaking frankly. I'm advising you as I would my own
+sister. Write to him cheerily, and take an interest in his doings, but
+not _too_ great. Show less curiosity. Above all, no jealousy, no
+suspicions. It's the worst thing in the world."
+
+"Is it? Go on, dear Mrs. Kellynch. Tell me more."
+
+"Talk of the children--show interest in them--make him proud of them.
+There you have an advantage no other woman has. You're the mother of his
+children."
+
+"Does he care for that?"
+
+"Of course he does--and he will more, if you do. Show an interest and a
+pride in it, and you will be what no one else can be to him."
+
+Mary thought, and seemed to see it. "Go on, go on!" she said, putting
+out her hand.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Hillier, I have envied you so for that! All these years, I've
+never had that great happiness. At last"--she paused--"I'll tell you, if
+you care to know--at last, after ten years, I am going to have my wish."
+
+"Really! And you are pleased?"
+
+"I'm divinely happy, delighted!"
+
+"Then I'm very glad for you, Mrs. Kellynch. But can't you
+imagine--you're so pretty and charming and good-tempered and clever. I'm
+none of all these things. I'm not pretty, and I'm very bad-tempered and
+terribly jealous by nature and not clever."
+
+"You are his wife and he chose you. And he is a charming, pleasant man.
+You ought to be very happy together."
+
+"To tell the truth--I don't mind what I tell you--I feel you're kind and
+good and sincere--I have always had a horrible feeling that he married
+me--because--because he was hard up. And I had money! And yet----"
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Hillier, don't talk nonsense! It's dreadful of you to say so.
+You ought to be very glad to be able to have everything you want,
+without having to consider for your children. It's a great thing, I
+assure you, to have no money troubles. It's another very big reason for
+you and Nigel to be happy. You don't know what it is. It's agony! I do,
+because before I was married I was one of a very large family, and my
+father was a very popular preacher and all that, but it was a terrible
+struggle. To send the boys to public schools and Oxford, the girls had
+to be really dreadfully pinched! And always worries about bills! I was
+brought up in that atmosphere, and I know that to be entirely free from
+it is a most enormous relief and comfort. You will probably never know
+how fortunate you are."
+
+"You are right. Of course Nigel is not the man to endure money troubles
+well."
+
+"Exactly. Well, now, can't you see that you've every possible chance of
+happiness together?"
+
+"May I call you Bertha?" answered Mary. "You've been a real angel to me,
+I might have expected you to refuse to see me, or at least to be cold
+and unkind--and instead you're as sorry as you can be for me and want to
+see me happy! You are sweet."
+
+"Of course I'd like to see you happy," said Bertha. "You understand now
+that I also care for my husband? You're not the only one in the world,
+though I admit we're rather exceptions nowadays!"
+
+"Yes; and I thought because you were so pretty and sweet that you _must_
+be a flirt--at the very least."
+
+"I don't say I'm not, all the same. But I would never wish to interfere
+with other people's happiness."
+
+"I sometimes think it might be better if I were a little of a flirt,"
+sighed Mary. "But I can't--it's not my nature--or, rather, I'm too busy
+always looking after Nigel!"
+
+"Well, don't do that so much and he'll look after you all the more. Show
+interest in your appearance and society--let him be proud of you--and
+_don't_ be afraid of being fond of the children!"
+
+"I'm really tremendously fond of them," said Mary. "Only I was always so
+afraid he would think they would do instead of him! I have such a horror
+of his sending me off with them and thinking they will fill up all my
+life, while he was living like a gay bachelor! And when he was very
+sweet to them I really was jealous of them!"
+
+"But all this is absurd. If you show your affection for them he will
+love you far more, and when _he_ is devoted to them it shows he's
+devoted to you. Don't be foolish, Mrs. Hillier, you have had a sort of
+crisis. Do let it end there. Let things be different. He will be
+delighted to see you cheerful and jolly again. It's all in your own
+hands, really."
+
+"Thank you. It was a shame to bother you."
+
+She got up to go.
+
+"May I tell you, later on ... how things are? I shall follow your advice
+_exactly_!"
+
+Mary was looking at her now in a kind of worshipping gratitude and
+trust.
+
+"Yes, do. But I know it will be all right. Only be a little patient just
+now. ... He will miss you awfully, I know," said Bertha, smiling.
+
+"Oh! Will he _really_? How _sweet_ of you to say that! Good-bye, Bertha.
+Dear Bertha, you have been kind. I'm _so_ sorry." Tears came to her eyes
+again, but as she passed the little mirror she began to laugh. "To think
+I should have come to see you for the first time got up like a dame in a
+pantomime. How grotesque!"
+
+They both laughed. Laughter altered and improved Mary wonderfully. It
+was a faculty she never exercised. She was always much too serious.
+
+"Do you know, I haven't one woman friend," said Mary.
+
+"Yes, you have, _now_." Bertha pressed her hand.
+
+"Good-bye! ... Oh, Bertha, do you _really_ think he'll miss me?"
+
+"Of course he will! Awfully!"
+
+"Thanks. Good-bye!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Poor girl!" Bertha said to herself as Mary left the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+PLAIN SAILING
+
+
+Whether or not it was through meeting Nigel, at any rate, Rupert became
+exceedingly anxious to see Madeline again. It would have happened
+anyhow, but perhaps a little more slowly, since Nigel's rapid views may
+have had some influence on that more deliberate young man.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+However that may be, in the early autumn Madeline, almost overcome with
+joy, was married to her adored and cultured instructor. She always
+remained his painstaking pupil; and he seemed highly gratified with her
+general progress; while she continued to be equally pleased with his
+mode of instruction and anxious not to neglect her education in any way.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Nigel joined his wife he found her decidedly improved. Perhaps he
+really had missed the fact that he was of far more importance to her
+than to anyone else in the world. She never conquered her jealousy; but
+she learnt to conceal it, and thus to keep the peace; the children
+became gradually a source of mutual interest that was a real tie between
+them; in fact it grew in time into a positive hobby and a cause of so
+much pride and satisfaction as to be rather a bore to many of their
+friends.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I find I am finishing my story in a manner no less strange than
+unconventional nowadays: I am leaving no less than three almost
+perfectly happy couples! If this is a strain on the imagination of the
+reader, let it be remembered that they had all had their troubles and
+storms before they reached this point of smooth water.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nigel, of course, deserved his peace and comfort the least. Percy,
+however, with his squash rackets and afternoon concerts (which, however,
+he grew to neglect in order to be more with Bertha), was the least
+interesting of all my heroes. Yet Bertha remained, I must admit, of all
+my heroines, by far the most in love.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIRD OF PARADISE***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 27323.txt or 27323.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/7/3/2/27323
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://www.gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/27323.zip b/27323.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e7519d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/27323.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..668e19d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #27323 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/27323)