diff options
Diffstat (limited to '28378-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 28378-h/28378-h.htm | 10851 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 28378-h/images/image_01.jpg | bin | 0 -> 1301 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 28378-h/images/image_02.jpg | bin | 0 -> 8519 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 28378-h/images/image_03.jpg | bin | 0 -> 31721 bytes |
4 files changed, 10851 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/28378-h/28378-h.htm b/28378-h/28378-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0475c19 --- /dev/null +++ b/28378-h/28378-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10851 @@ +<!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=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Too Old for Dolls, by Anthony Mario Ludovici</title> + <style type="text/css"> +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +.f1 { margin-left:60%; } +.f2 { margin-left:80%; } +.f3 { margin-left:50%; } +.f4 { margin-left:70%; } +.img1 { border-color:#000000; border-style:solid; border-width: thin; width:400px; } +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; font-style:normal; +} /* page numbers */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem1 { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; font-style:italic; +} +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} +.poem1 .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.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; +} + +.poem1 span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem1 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%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Too Old for Dolls, by Anthony Mario Ludovici</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: Too Old for Dolls</p> +<p> A Novel</p> +<p>Author: Anthony Mario Ludovici</p> +<p>Release Date: March 21, 2009 [eBook #28378]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOO OLD FOR DOLLS***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Sankar Viswanathan, Suzanne Shell,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><img class="img1" src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Cover Page" width="400" height="658" /></p> +<p> </p> +<h1>TOO OLD FOR DOLLS</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2>A NOVEL</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>ANTHONY M. LUDOVICI</h2> + +<h4>AUTHOR OF "MANSEL FELLOWES," "CATHERINE DOYLE," "A DEFENCE<br /> +OF ARISTOCRACY," ETC. +</h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"><img src="images/image_01.jpg" alt="Seal" width="50" height="38" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</h3> +<h4>NEW YORK AND LONDON</h4> +<h4>The Knickerbocker Press</h4> +<h4>1921</h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h5><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1921</h5> + +<h6>BY</h6> +<h6>G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</h6> + +<div class="center"><img src="images/image_02.jpg" alt="Seal" width="90" height="153" /></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE ENGLISH FLAPPER<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From Nature's anvil hot she hails,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The forge still glowing on her cheek.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untamed as yet, Life still prevails<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within her breast and fain would speak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But all the elfs upon the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in the arbour where she lolls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repeat the impudent refrain;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Too young for babes, too old for dolls.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her fingers deft have guessed the knack<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of making each advantage tell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hat, her hair still down her back,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her frocks and muff of mighty spell;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her springtide "tailor-mades" quite plain:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In summer-time her parasols;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each eloquent with the refrain:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Too young for babes, too old for dolls.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold with what grave interest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She looks at all, or hind or squire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In truth more keenly than the best<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Matriculation marks require.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She's told to learn from all she sees;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To watch the seasons, how they go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And note the burgeoning of trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or bulbs and pansies, how they grow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Enough that they are fair!" she cries;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Why should I learn how lilies blow?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, dropping botany, she sighs<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For some new flounce or furbelow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The murmur of the woodland wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sound of courting birds that sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are sweeter music to this child<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than all piano practising.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She reads of love time and again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And writes sad lays and barcarolles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All emphasising the refrain:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Too young for babes, too old for dolls.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, truth to tell, the world's a thing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of wonder for a life that's new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trembling her passions sing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their praise within her father's pew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Magnificats or credos sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus oft acquire a deeper note,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they're intoned by voices young,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or issue from a virgin's throat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For all the world's a wondrous thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And magic to the life that's new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heartily her voice-chords ring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beside her father's in his pew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who sees her clad in muslin white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With eyes downcast and manner prim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May well be minded by the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of angels pure or cherubim.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, oh, the secret lusts of life!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The thrills and throbs but half divined;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The future and the great word "Wife,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which ofttimes occupy her mind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wicked thoughts that come and go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dreams that leave her soul aghast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make her long to hold and know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The entertaining truth at last!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But still the elfs upon the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in the arbour where she lolls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With merry gesture cry again:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Too young for babes, too old for dolls.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>First published in</i> <span class="smcap">The New Age</span>,<i> December 4th, 1919.</i></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> +<h2>Too Old for Dolls</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>On a vast Chesterfield, every unoccupied square inch of which seemed to +bulge with indignant pride, Mrs. Delarayne reclined in picturesque +repose. Her small feet, looking if possible more dainty than usual in +their spruce patent leather shoes, were resting on a rich silk cushion +whose glistening gold tassels lay heavily amid all the crushed splendour +of the couch. Other cushions, equally purse-proud and brazen, supported +the more important portions of the lady's frame, and a deep floorward +curve in the line of the Chesterfield conveyed the impression that, +however tenderly Mrs. Delarayne might wish to be embraced by her +furniture and its wedges of down, she was at all events a creature of +substantial proportions and construction.</p> + +<p>The picture presented was one of careless and secure opulence.</p> + +<p>The contents of the room in which Mrs. Delarayne rested had obviously +been designed and produced by human effort of the most conscien<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>tious +and loving kind. All the objects about her were treasures either of art +or antiquity, or both, and stood there as evidence of the power which +their present owner, or her ancestors, must have been able to exercise +over hundreds of gifted painters, cabinet-makers, needlewomen, potters, +braziers, carvers, metal-workers, and craftsmen of all kinds for +generations.</p> + +<p>It was late in June in the ninth year of King Edward VII's reign—that +halcyon period when nobody who was anybody felt particularly happy, +because no such person had actually experienced what unhappiness was. +Certainly Mrs. Delarayne had not, unless she had shown really +exceptional fortitude and self-control over her husband's death.</p> + +<p>A sound in the room suddenly made her turn her head, and she dropped her +book gently into the folds of her dress.</p> + +<p>"My dear child," she exclaimed, addressing her elder daughter, "are you +still there? I thought you had gone long ago! I must have been asleep."</p> + +<p>"You did sleep, Edith dear," her daughter replied, "because I heard you +snoring. You only picked up your book a moment ago."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne examined her own blue-veined knotty hands with the +expression of one who is contemplating a phenomenon that is threatening +to become a nuisance, and then dropping them quickly out of sight again, +she glanced eagerly round the room as if she wished to forget all about +them. She did not relish her daughter's allusion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> to her +snoring,—another sign of the same depressing kind as her blue-veined +knotty hands,—and her next remark was made with what seemed unnecessary +anger.</p> + +<p>"Instead of wasting your time here, Cleo," she observed, picking up her +book again, "why don't you go upstairs and pull some of those nasty +black hairs off your upper lip? You know who's coming to-day, and you +also know that young men, in this country at any rate, strongly object +to any signs of temperament in a girl. They think it incompatible with +their ideal of the angel, or the fairy, or some other nonsense."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra rose, jerked her shoulders impatiently, and snorted.</p> + +<p>"I should have thought it better to be natural," she blurted out. "If +it's natural for me to have dark hairs on my upper lip, then surely I +should not remove them."</p> + +<p>Again Mrs. Delarayne dropped her book and glanced round very angrily. +"Don't be stupid, Cleo!" she cried. "What do you suppose 'natural' means +nowadays? Has it any meaning at all? Is it natural for you to blow your +nose in a lace handkerchief? Is it natural for you to do your hair up? +Is it natural for you to eat marrons glacés as you do at the rate of a +pound and a half a week,—yes, a pound and a half a week; I buy them so +I ought to know, unless the servants get at them—when you ought to be +living in a cave, dressed in bearskins and gnawing at the roots of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +trees? Don't talk to me about 'natural.' Nothing is natural nowadays, +except perhaps the inexhaustible stupidity of people who choke over a +little process of beautification and yet swallow the whole complicated +artificiality of modern life."</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Delarayne turned her refined and still very beautiful face to +the light, it became clear that she at any rate did not choke over any +"little process of beautification"; for she was at least fifty-five +years of age, and at a distance of two or three yards, looked thirty.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra moved mutinously towards the door.</p> + +<p>"That's right, my dear," said her mother in more conciliatory tones. "I +don't mind your upper lip; I like it. But then I understand. Denis does +not understand, and I'm convinced that he doesn't like it."</p> + +<p>Flushing slightly, Cleopatra turned to face her mother. "Edith dear, how +can you talk such nonsense!" she exclaimed. "What do I care whether +Denis likes it or not?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne smiled. "Well, I do, my dear. When you are my age you'll +be as anxious as I am to get your daughters married."</p> + +<p>The younger woman turned her head. "Married!" she cried. "Oh when shall +I hear the end of that litany! I suppose you want me to marry anybody, +it doesn't matter whom, so long as I——"</p> + +<p>"H'm," grunted the parent. "I don't think the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> discussion of that +particular point would prove profitable."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra sailed haughtily out of the room, and there was just the +suggestion of an angry slam in the way she closed the door after her.</p> + +<p>She was now twenty-five years of age. "Much too old," was the mother's +comment. "It must be this year or never." She was a good-looking girl, +dark, with large intelligent eyes, a pretty, straight nose, and full +well-shaped lips. About five foot six in height, she was also well +developed. Certainly her colouring was not quite all that it might have +been; but she was naturally a little anæmic, as all decent girls should +be who, at twenty-five years of age, are still unmarried. "It seems +absurd," thought her mother, "that such a creature should have had to +wait so long." And then with an effort she turned her thoughts to less +depressing matters.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne was a widow. Her late husband, a wealthy, retired +Canadian lawyer, had been dead four years, having left her in her +fifty-first year very comfortably off with two attractive daughters. She +had inherited everything he possessed, including two handsome +establishments, the one in Kensington and the other at Brineweald, +Kent,—and in his will there had not been even a small special provision +for either of his children. Economically, therefore, Cleopatra and +Leonetta Delarayne were bound hand and foot to their mother. But +although Mrs. Delarayne was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> by no means averse to power, she wielded it +so delicately in her relations with her offspring, that after their +father's death neither of her daughters ever learnt to doubt that what +was "Edith's" was theirs also. In regard to one question alone did Mrs. +Delarayne ever lay her hands significantly upon her gold bags—and that +was marriage. She never concealed from them that she would be liberal to +the point of recklessness if they married, but that she would draw in +her purse-strings very tightly, indeed, if they remained spinsters. In +fact it was understood that when she died each of her daughters, if wed, +would inherit half her wealth, but if they remained old maids, the bulk +of it would most certainly go to some promising though impecunious young +man in her circle.</p> + +<p>She professed to loathe the sight, so common alas! in England, of the +affluent spinster, "growing pointlessly rotund on rich food at one of +the smug hotels or boarding-houses for parasitic nonentities, which are +distributed so plentifully all over the land," while thousands of +promising young men had to wait too long before they were able to take +their bride to the altar. It was her view that this feature of social +life in England was truly the white man's burden, and she vowed that no +money of hers would ever help to produce so nauseating a spectacle. +Behind Mrs. Delarayne's laudable views on this subject, however, there +were doubtless other and less patriotic considera<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>tions, which may or +may not be revealed in the course of this story.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the maid entered the room and announced, "Sir Joseph +Bullion."</p> + +<p>"Show him in," cried her mistress, throwing her legs smartly off the +Chesterfield, adjusting her dress with a few swift touches, and then +reclining limply amid the cushions in a manner suggesting extreme +feebleness and fatigue.</p> + +<p>The maid reappeared and ushered in a very much over-dressed old +gentleman.</p> + +<p>He stood for some seconds on the threshold, smiling engagingly into the +room. It was difficult to refrain from the thought that his affability +was largely the outcome of entire self-satisfaction; for as he posed in +the full light of the window, there was that about his attitude and +expression which seemed to invite and defy the most searching +inspection. Nor did his eyes smile with true kindliness, but rather with +the conscious triumph of the attractive débutante.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne quietly noticed all these familiar traits in her friend, +and responded in the expected manner with one or two idle compliments +that afforded him infinite satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"No, sit here beside me," she whispered, as if every effort to speak +might prove too much for her.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph did as he was bid, lingered tenderly over the handshake, and +gazed with strained sympathy into his companion's healthy face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Younger than ever!" he exclaimed, "but not very well I fear."</p> + +<p>He was accustomed to Mrs. Delarayne's occasional affectation of +valetudinarian peevishness, alleged ill-health as a fact. As a rule it +was the prelude to the request for a favour on a grand scale, and being +a man of very great wealth, and therefore somewhat tight-fisted, he was +always rendered unusually solemn by his friend's fits of indisposition.</p> + +<p>They chatted idly for a while; Mrs. Delarayne gradually receding from +the position of one on the verge of a dangerous malady, to that of a +person merely threatened with a serious breakdown if her worries were +not immediately made to cease.</p> + +<p>It was a strange relationship that united these two people. Although Sir +Joseph was not more than five years the lady's senior, she always +treated him as if he belonged to a previous geological period; and he, +chivalrously shouldering the burden of æons, had acquired the courteous +habit of opening all his anecdotal pronouncements with such words as: +"You would not remember old so-and-so," or "You cannot be expected to +remember the days when";—a formality which, while it delighted Mrs. +Delarayne, convinced her more and more that although Sir Joseph might +make an excellent ancestor, it would have been an indignity for a woman +of her years to accept him as a lover.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph had already been married once, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> it had been the mistake +of his life. Before he could have had the shadow of a suspicion that he +was even to be an immensely wealthy man, he had, out of sentiment, taken +a woman of his own class whom he had found somewhere in the Midlands. +With her decease Sir Joseph, who was rapidly becoming a substantial and +important member of society, hoped that his lowly past had died also; +and when from the window of the first coach he watched the hearse +bearing his wife swing round through the gates of the cemetery, he +mentally recorded the resolution that on that day all uncertain syntax, +all abuse and neglect of aspirates, and all Midland slang should be +banished from his house for ever. He had loved his wife, but he frankly +acknowledged to his soul that her death had been opportune; and as her +coffin was lowered into the grave, he could not help muttering the +thought, "Here also lies Bad Grammar. R.I.P."</p> + +<p>Now compared with the late Mrs. Bullion, Mrs. Delarayne seemed to Sir +Joseph a paragon of brilliance. She had dazzled him from the moment of +their first meeting, and she continued to do so without effort, or, it +must be admitted, without malicious intent either. Here was a woman who +could be an honour to a wealthy man, who could gratify his lust for +display, and carry the convincing proofs of his great wealth right under +the noses of the very best people, without ever provoking the usual +comments of the spiteful and the envious. She was a creature, moreover, +with a large<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> circle of influential and distinguished friends, and she +possessed that inimitable calmness of bearing in their company, beside +which Sir Joseph's mental picture of the first Mrs. Bullion partook of +the mobility of a cinematograph or of a Catherine wheel in full action.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne on the other hand had, as we have already seen, tutored +herself into regarding Sir Joseph simply as a venerable old relic. In +her fifty-fifth year this brave lady held very decided views about youth +and age, and was very far from admitting that a man five years her +senior was the only possible match for her. Indeed it was only the +presence of her daughters that for some time past had prevented her from +seriously contemplating and arranging a very different kind of match. +Since their father's death she had schooled them into calling her +"Edith"; she had also succeeded by means of certain modifications in her +appearance, not confined entirely to her raiment and her coiffure, in +creating the illusion of thirty; and everything she said and did was +calculated to confirm this process of self-deception. She loathed old +age. The very breath of an old person in the room in which she sat was +enough to oppress and stifle her. It always struck her that the bitter +smell of corpses was not far distant from the couch whereon they +reclined. She wanted youth. Rightly or wrongly she thought she was +entitled to the best, and who will deny that youth is the best? She was +devotedly at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>tached to young men. She would have required a good deal of +persuasion to believe that a man of thirty was too young for her; and if +she had deprived herself of this one luxury, it was, as we have seen, +simply out of regard for her daughters. She entertained no rooted +objection to disparity in ages as a matter of principle.</p> + +<p>In the circumstances, Sir Joseph's senile raptures were simply tiresome, +and had he not been enormously rich she would have thought them a little +presumptuous. But there were many ways in which Sir Joseph Bullion's +friendship proved useful to her. He was not only a wealthy man, he was +also highly influential, and again and again she had used him and his +power for her own private purposes.</p> + +<p>She proposed to use him again on this occasion.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact," she said, correcting herself for the fourth time, +"I am not so much indisposed as angry."</p> + +<p>"Not with me, I hope?" exclaimed the baronet.</p> + +<p>As he proceeded to chuckle asthmatically over the fantastic +improbability of this suggestion, the elderly matron with marked +irritation called him sharply to order. "Have you read the papers?" she +demanded.</p> + +<p>"'Ave I read the papers?" he repeated. "Of course I've read the papers."</p> + +<p>Occasionally, very occasionally, particularly after periods of much +autogenous mirth, Sir Joseph Bullion dropped an H. But he never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> noticed +it. It was a sort of unconscious reverberation of former days; as if his +lowly past, especially that portion of it which had been spent with the +first and ungrammatical Mrs. Bullion, insisted on revealing itself to +the world, to be acknowledged and congratulated on what it had achieved.</p> + +<p>"Well then," pursued the widow firmly, "you know about Lord Henry!"</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry?" he cried. "What about Lord Henry?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne began to examine her rings very studiously, as if she +wished to make quite certain that none of the stones had gone astray in +the last five minutes. "It's all very well, Joseph," she observed +quietly; "but if Lord Henry goes—I go. Now understand that once and for +all. I can't endure London without him."</p> + +<p>"Not really?" he ejaculated, leaning forward. "Are you serious? D'you +mean Lord Henry, the biologist or something?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne continued the close scrutiny of her rings.</p> + +<p>"Of course I mean it," she said in the same quiet but utterly +unanswerable way. "You have no idea what Lord Henry means to me. He's +literally the only young man in London who does not treat me as if I +were a creature of mediæval antiquity."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph crestfallen sank back again hopelessly into the cushions.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne proceeded to explain that owing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> to the meddlesomeness of +some officious busybody on the Executive Council of the Society for +Anthropological Research—an old maid she felt certain—Lord Henry +Highbarn had been invited to go to Central China as the Society's +plenipotentiary, in order to investigate the reasons of China's +practical immunity from lunacy and nervous diseases of all kinds. Lord +Henry had accepted the honour and was leaving in three months' time. She +then picked up the newspaper, and read aloud the concluding paragraph of +the article on the subject:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"His departure from this country will be a severe blow to +the hundreds of nervous invalids who annually benefit from +his skill at his Sanatorium in Kent, and the world of +science will find it difficult to replace him. It appears +that Lord Henry has one or two ardent disciples who will be +in a position to carry on his great work, but a leading +London specialist, Dr. David Melhado, declared to our +representative to-day, that without the guidance of Lord +Henry's brilliant and original genius, it is doubtful +whether any of his pupils will ever dare to treat the more +obscure nervous cases on their master's drastic and +unprecedented lines."</p></div> + +<p>"There now!" she cried, crumpling up the paper and throwing it away. +"You see what that means. It means that women like myself are once more +to be condemned to the dangerous misunderstanding to which we were +exposed before Lord Henry came on the scene. And we certainly can't +survive it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>Sir Joseph surveyed his companion's robust figure and healthy +countenance for some seconds, and an incredulous smile gradually spread +over his flushed and puffy features. "Surely there can't be very much +wrong with you—is there?" he dared to suggest for once.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne's eyes suddenly flashed with fire, and she cowed him by a +single glance. "Don't talk of things you understand so little," she +snapped. "Lord Henry must at all costs be induced to remain in +England,—that's your job. He must not go. And anyhow China is such a +ridiculous place to go to. Nobody ever goes to China except +missionaries. Of course the Chinese haven't any nerves, because they +haven't any daughters—they kill them all. That's a very simple way of +keeping your mental balance. I confess that the prospect of going to +China is not an inviting one, and yet if Lord Henry goes, I don't see +what other alternative we poor sufferers will have."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph again glanced dubiously at the healthy woman beside him, and +drummed his knees thoughtfully with his large fingers.</p> + +<p>"You know without me telling you," he observed at last, "that I'll do +whatever you want. It's happened before and it'll happen again." And he +rolled his bloodshot eyes as if to make it quite clear that for this +great favour a great reward would be expected.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne examined him covertly and be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>gan to wonder with a sudden +feeling of despair how such a creature could possibly hope to be a match +for Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>"And if I do induce Lord Henry to remain in England,—what then?" the +baronet demanded.</p> + +<p>The widow sighed. "You'll be a public benefactor," she said; "a blessing +to your race."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose there's much money, is there, in this trip to China?" +he asked pompously. "And Lord Henry can't be a very rich man."</p> + +<p>"He's very poor," replied Mrs. Delarayne.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph smiled knowingly and lay back amid the cushions with an air +of perfect self-appreciation and confidence.</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing that great wealth cannot do, it seems to me," he +said, smiling and making every kind of grimace indicative of the immense +difficulty he was experiencing in not laughing at what was passing +through his mind.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne dreaded the worst, but felt that not to press for +enlightenment at this juncture would reveal an indifference which would +prove unfavourable to her schemes. "And what is that?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It cannot change a woman's fancy, of course!" Sir Joseph ejaculated, +and laughed very violently indeed. "'Ave you caught my meaning?" he +added, as his hilarity subsided.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne toyed with her book.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Edith!" he pursued. "If I get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> Lord Henry to remain in +London, as I've no doubt I shall,—what then?" He ogled her roguishly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne tried, while smiling politely, to introduce as little +encouragement as possible into her expression.</p> + +<p>"Between you and I," the baronet continued, "it isn't as if we had a +whole lifetime before us. You may have,—I haven't. These delays are a +little unwise at our time of life."</p> + +<p>He caught her hand and for some reason, possibly his great agitation, +pressed her finger-nails deep into the convex bulb of his large hot +thumb, as if he were intent upon testing their sharpness.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne removed her hand. "Joseph, I had hoped you were not going +to refer to this again for some while. I have told you hundreds of +times, or more, that a woman cannot marry with decency a second time +when she has two strapping daughters who have not yet married once."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well," pursued the widow, "but it is difficult enough for +Cleo to forgive my having married at all. I could not possibly confront +her with a second husband before she, poor girl, had met her first. Oh +no!—it would be too great an insult. I'd die of shame. No, before you +have me you'll have to get my daughters married. That bargain I strike +with you."</p> + +<p>He smiled ecstatically. "Promise?"</p> + +<p>"I promise."</p> + +<p>He bent forward and kissed her very clumsily,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> and Mrs. Delarayne by +blowing her nose was able deftly to wipe her mouth without his noticing +the movement.</p> + +<p>"What is that young fool, my secretary, doing?" he enquired at last. +"Did I not bring him and Cleo together all through the spring at +Brineweald Park?"</p> + +<p>"Denis is a nincompoop," Mrs. Delarayne declared drily. "I don't believe +for a minute that we should any of us be here if he had taken Adam's +place in the Garden of Eden. What a fortunate thing it was, by-the-by, +that the Almighty did not choose a very modern sort of man to live in +sin with Eve!"</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph laughed. "Denis a nincompoop? I don't believe it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne snorted.</p> + +<p>"But how are they getting on?"</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me," she sighed wearily. "They philander. They are now at the +very dangerous and inconclusive stage of being 'practically engaged.' It +never signifies anything, because no man who really means business has +the patience to be practically engaged."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph looked and felt sympathetic.</p> + +<p>"They hold hands, I believe," the widow resumed, "and discuss the +philosophers. Probably in a year's time if all goes well they will kiss +and discuss the poets."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph uttered an expletive of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes—I'm disappointed in Denis. I don't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> trust these very cheerful men, +who have a ready laugh and a sense of humour. They laugh to conceal the +fact that they cannot crow, and they crack jokes because they cannot +break hearts. Give me the broody serious men with fierce looks and slow +smiles."</p> + +<p>"Isn't Cleo in love with him?"</p> + +<p>"Poor soul!" Mrs. Delarayne exclaimed. "She does her best. She would +take him, of course, simply because it will soon be an indignity for her +to remain single one minute longer. She would probably die of shame too +if someone else took Denis from her. But I think you know, that the man +who provokes Cleo's love will have to be a little bit different from +Denis."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>On being dismissed from her mother's presence, Cleopatra did not go as +she had been commanded to her mirror in order to remove the little +shadow of down that adorned her upper lip. She retired instead to the +library, and ensconcing herself in one of the large leather easy chairs, +continued her reading of Jane Austen's <i>Sense and Sensibility</i>.</p> + +<p>Occasionally while she read she would raise her eyes from the printed +page to look at her unengaged hand as it rested on the arm of the chair +she occupied, and for some moments she would be wrapped in thought.</p> + +<p>There had been no lack of competition for that hand since the day when, +at her coming-out dance, she had so eagerly extended it to Life for all +that Life had to offer. It was not that it had come back empty to her +side that made her sad. If occasionally she was moved by a little +bitterness about her brief existence, it was rather because the kind of +things with which her outstretched hand had been filled were so dismally +unsatisfying. She counted the men she had been compelled to refuse. They +numbered only two, but there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> were at least three others whom she had +never allowed to get as far as a proposal.</p> + +<p>Again for the hundredth time she passed them in review. Had she acted +wisely? Were they so utterly impossible? Now, at the age of twenty-five, +her worldly wisdom answered, "Nay," but deep down in her breast a less +cultivated and more vigorous impulse answered most emphatically "Yea."</p> + +<p>From early girlhood onwards Cleopatra had cherished very definite ideas +about the man of her taste. In this she was by no means exceptional. But +perhaps the circumstances that she had abided more steadfastly than most +by the pattern her imagination had originally limned distinguished her +from her more fickle sisters. The fault she found with the modern world +was that it did not offer you man whole or complete, but only in +fragments. To be quite plain, it offered you, from the athlete to the +poet, a series of isolated manly characteristics, but it did not give +you all the manly characteristics in one being at once, which +constituted the all-round man of her dreams.</p> + +<p>Whether it was that man had specialised too much of recent years, or +what the reason might be, Cleopatra could not tell. But whenever she +passed the men of her acquaintance in review, she always arrived at the +same conclusion, that each represented only a fragment of what the whole +man of her ideal was, and doubtless of what man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> himself had once been. +It was as if she had been deposited among the ruins of a once beautiful +cathedral. Fine pieces of screen architecture, exquisite portions of the +capitals, delightful gargoyles, lay in profusion all around: but the +whole building could be reconstructed in all its majesty, only by an +effort of the imagination. This effort of the imagination she had made +as a girl of seventeen.</p> + +<p>To-day it seemed to her, you might choose the cleanly-bred, healthy, +upright, jaunty athlete, and sigh in vain for a companion who could +either sob or rejoice with you over the glory of a sonnet, a picture, or +a statue; or else you might choose the slightly effete and partly +neurotic poet or artist, and languish unconsoled, away from the joys of +the fine, clean, stubbornly healthy body. The kind of fire that led to +elopements, to wild and clandestine love-making, could now, with too few +exceptions, be found only among ne'er-do-wells, foreign adventurers, +cut-throats or knaves; while the stability that promised security for +the future and for the family, seemed generally to present itself with a +sort of tiresome starchiness of body and jejuneness of mind, that +thought it childish to abandon itself to any emotion.</p> + +<p>She was deep enough, primitively female enough to demand and expect a +certain savour of wickedness in him who wooed her. But she was more +accustomed to perceive the outward signs of this coveted quality in the +waiters at the Carlton, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> the Savoy, and among dust-men, coal-heavers +and butcher-boys, than in the men of her mother's circle.</p> + +<p>Had man been tamed out of all recognition? Or was her instinct wrong, +and was it perverse to sigh for fire, wickedness, stability, +cultivation, and healthy athleticism—all in the same man? She had read +of Alcibiades, of men who were not fragmentary. Could such a man be born +nowadays, and if born could he survive? Certainly the men she had +refused had not been of this stamp.</p> + +<p>It was miserably disappointing, and with it all there was her mother's +untiring insistence upon the urgency of getting married. It was more +than disappointing: it was a genuine grievance, but a grievance of a +kind which most young women nowadays bury unredressed, and the former +existence of which in their lives they reveal only by a tired, wasted +look in their faces, which leads their husbands to consider +them—"delicate."</p> + +<p>With all her fastidiousness in regard to the man of her desire, however, +Cleopatra was not to be confused with the romantic idealist who craves +for that which never has been and never can be possible on earth. To +have misunderstood her to this extent would have been a gross injustice. +She had built up her picture of her mate, not with the help of feverish +and morbid fancy, but guided only by the hints of an exceptionally +healthy body. Modest to a degree to which only great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> reserves of +passion can attain, it was to her a dire need that her mate should have +fire, because half-consciously she divined that only fire purified and +sanctified the transition from girlhood to womanhood. Half-heartedness +here, or the lack of a great passionate momentum, that carried +everything before it, spelt to her something distinctly discomfiting, +not to say indecent. And in this, far from being a romantic idealist, +she was entirely right and realistic. This explains why her taste +inclined more resolutely to the adventurous idea of love, to the +impromptu element, to the wild ardour of first embraces that must +perforce flee from the sight of fellow creatures, than to the kind of +graduated passion which begins with conversation, proceeds to a public +engagement with staring people all about you, and ends with the still +more measured tempo of a Church wedding. All the waiting, all the +temporising, all the toadlike deliberation that these various slow steps +involved, ran counter to her deepest feeling, that her love must be a +matter of touch and go, a sudden kindling of two fires, the burning not +of green wood but of a volcano.</p> + +<p>But where, these days, could she find the partner who was prepared, and +above all equipped, to play his part to hers? This was her grievance. +And again in justice to her it must be acknowledged that it was a +genuine one.</p> + +<p>The young man whom her mother was at present "running" for her, was a +creature at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> whom, as a girl of eighteen, she would not have looked a +second time. But how much more modest in its demands had her taste not +become as she had advanced in years! How much more docile and +unassuming! She saw other girls marrying men not unlike Denis Malster; +so why couldn't she? She concluded that it must evidently be the fate of +modern women to accept the third-rate, the third-best—in fact +disillusionment as a law of their beings; and having no one to support +her in her soundest instincts, she began rather to doubt the validity of +their claim, than to turn resolutely away from marriage altogether.</p> + +<p>And now there was to be a complication in her trouble. Leonetta was +returning home for good—Leonetta, the child eight years her junior, +Leonetta was now as fresh, as attractive, and as blooming, as she +herself had been when she was just seventeen, and whom, from habit, she +still called "Baby."</p> + +<p>Quietly she had waited and waited for the man of her heart, and been +able to do this without the additional annoyance of competition to +disturb or excite her. Peacefully these seven years she had lain like a +watcher on the shore, scanning the horizon with her glass, without even +a nudge of the elbow from her younger sister. And now she was no longer +to be alone. A distracting, possibly an utterly defeating element was +going to be introduced into her peaceful though anxious existence, and +she shuddered unmistakably at the thought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>As yet she had harboured no conscious hostility towards her junior, +merely a desire to keep her as long as possible at a distance, in order +that the one relationship of which she had the deepest dread—that of +competitors in the same field—might be warded off indefinitely, or, +better still, never experienced between them.</p> + +<p>She did not yet fear Baby. The disparity in their ages seemed too great +and too obvious for that: but in recollecting certain incidents in their +childhood, and one or two things about Baby's appearance and behaviour +during the last two years, Cleopatra could not entirely free herself +from a perfectly definite feeling of vexation in regard to her sister. +Baby had not troubled her at all as an infant. It was as a child of +eight, when Cleopatra was just sixteen, that her sister had first +revealed disquieting proclivities. She had, for instance, a command of +blandishments which to her elder were a closed book. By means of wiles +and cajoleries utterly inimitable, she could extract money and presents +from adults from whom the haughty Cleopatra would not even have +solicited a kiss. In five years Baby had received more boxes of +chocolates and more dolls than her sister had received during her whole +lifetime. This was not, however, because the younger child was in any +respect more beautiful than the elder, but rather owing to the younger's +extraordinary gift for securing what she wanted by any means that might +come to hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p>For a long while Cleopatra had looked on, wistfully it is true, but not +enviously at her sister's astonishingly successful career: for was not +Baby only a child after all? And, from the age of eleven to fourteen, +Leonetta had been so outrageously gawky and unattractive, no matter how +beautifully she happened to be clad, that Cleopatra's feelings of +uneasiness about her sister were laid to rest as if for ever during this +period.</p> + +<p>Then, all of a sudden—and the day was written indelibly on the elder +girl's memory—on a certain spring morning, at the time of year when +winter frocks are doffed for lighter and brighter confections, Cleopatra +beheld a vision, the nature of which was such as in a trice to +resuscitate all those anxieties about her junior which, to do her +justice, she had long ago relegated to oblivion.</p> + +<p>The event occurred in Mrs. Delarayne's bedroom. Cleopatra, then a girl +of twenty-two, was discussing with her mother the details of the Easter +holiday programme and with her back to the door and her face to the +window, was as completely unconscious of the surprise awaiting her as +the bedroom furniture itself.</p> + +<p>All at once the door opened. At first Cleopatra did not turn round, and +it was only when the exceptionally fulsome manner of her mother's +outburst of joy awakened her suspicions that at last she looked round +and was confronted by the vision.</p> + +<p>It was Baby—undoubtedly it was Baby; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> certainly not the awkward +child of a month, of a week, of a day, or even an hour ago. It was Baby +transformed, nay transfigured, as if by magic. Whether the change had +been gradual and imperceptible, or as sudden as Cleopatra imagined it to +have been, the elder girl did not stop to think; she simply allowed her +eyes to dwell almost spellbound upon the startling apparition facing +her, and as quickly as a dart, before she was able to arrest it, a pang, +a pain, or a convulsion of some sort, was communicated to her heart, the +meaning of which she did not dare at first to analyse.</p> + +<p>For Leonetta, from a Mohawk, from a sexless savage with tangled hair and +blotchy features, from an angular filly devoid of grace and charm, had +by a stroke of the wand become metamorphosed into a remarkably +attractive young woman. It was startling: but it was also undeniable. It +was not the vernal frock, of that Cleopatra was convinced; although Mrs. +Delarayne had concentrated chiefly upon this feature in her transports +of joy over her younger daughter's dramatic and spontaneous assumption +of womanly beauty. Had it been only the frock Cleopatra was intelligent +enough to have known that the pang she had felt would have been left +unexplained. No, it was more fundamental than that. All the dress had +accomplished was to set an acute accent over a development which, though +already at its penultimate stage, had so far escaped the notice of +Cleopatra and her mother. The picture had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> present the day before, +but it had not been quite perfectly focussed. The new frock had focussed +it sharply.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra remembered having asked herself whether Leonetta could be +aware of the change that had come over her. But plainly her behaviour +had dispelled this suspicion. Leonetta had behaved on that memorable +occasion exactly as she had done throughout the previous week. Not even +a sign of enhanced self-possession or assurance had betrayed the fact of +an inward change, and somehow this unconsciousness of her accession of +power only seemed to Cleopatra to make that power more formidable.</p> + +<p>Events followed rapidly one upon the other after that. Everybody noticed +the change and the improvement. Everybody commented on it. Mrs. +Delarayne was doubly rejoiced, because although both her daughters were +beautiful, Leonetta's features and style were more her mother's than +Cleopatra's were. Cleopatra was a Delarayne, her beauty was if anything +more severe and more stately than her mother's. Now the resemblance +between Leonetta and her mother had become striking. But strangers were +little occupied with this aspect of Leonetta's beauty. And when +Cleopatra observed that the attention of men, in and out of doors, had +become more marked towards her sister, and that they had begun even to +turn round to stare at her in the street, the elder girl knew that her +vision on that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> unforgettable spring morning had not been an +hallucination: on the contrary it was a fact, and one to which she must +do her best to reconcile herself.</p> + +<p>Gradually the consequences of the change were forced upon the +consciousness of Leonetta herself and her manner became correspondingly +modified. Leonetta knew that she was a beautiful young woman. Leonetta +realised that this meant power, and at last she gauged to the smallest +fraction the extent of that power.</p> + +<p>Then followed a mighty tussle in Cleopatra's heart. The influence the +elder daughter had always exercised over the mother's mind now presented +itself as a temptation, as a weapon she might use in a threatened +struggle. But it must not be supposed that this temptation was yielded +to without a furious conflict.</p> + +<p>Leonetta did not know French well. French would give the stamp of finish +to an education which, in the case of the younger daughter, with her +constitutional disinclination for study, was little more than +make-believe. Ought not Baby to be sent abroad? Was it not doing her the +greatest service to speed her thither? Crudely Cleopatra concluded that +she was really acting altruistically in warmly advocating this +scheme—self-analysis is frequently as inaccurate as this;—besides, +would not she, Cleopatra, in the interval become engaged, married, and +an independent person outside her mother's home, and away from +Leo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>netta's "pitch"? The programme was surely all in favour of the +younger girl.</p> + +<p>The plan was laid before Mrs. Delarayne, calmly, solemnly, with all the +elaborate minutiæ of earnest concern about a sister's welfare that +Cleopatra could summon. And the result was that within six weeks of that +terrible Easter, arrangements had been made for Leonetta to spend at +least a year in a large and expensive school at Versailles, where she +could not only acquire the vernacular, but also become infected with the +polish of the native.</p> + +<p>Sublimely unsuspecting, Leonetta had embraced her sister passionately on +the platform of Charing Cross station, and Cleopatra had even shed a +tear of pious sorrow.</p> + +<p>Her mother had pointed out to Cleopatra at the time that she herself had +enjoyed none of the advantages which she urged with so much generous +fervour on behalf of her sister. Cleopatra had replied that she had had +other advantages, a University education, a classical training, the kind +of cultivation for which Leonetta was unsuited and in the acquisition of +which she would have been unhappy.</p> + +<p>But worse was to come. At the end of the year Leonetta had returned; +and, if it is possible to imagine the superlative surpassed, certainly +Leonetta's appearance on her return, her increased vivacity, her perfect +command of French, her new tricks with her hair and clothes, utterly +eclipsed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> the Leonetta who had left her Kensington home a year +previously.</p> + +<p>Nothing had happened to Cleopatra in the meantime, and the elder girl, +after having rapidly adopted subtly modified imitations of her sister's +style of coiffure, was once again thrust hopelessly into the very +position against which her nobler instincts most heartily rebelled. She +refused to remain in a relation of tacit, covert, and ill-concealed +rivalry to one whom the whole world, including her mother, expected her +to love. It was ignominious; it was intolerable. It poisoned her to the +very marrow. It made her ache at night when she ought to have been +sleeping. Had she been less like Leonetta than she was, had she +possessed less passion, less beauty, and less desire than her sister, +she could have endured it. As it was the position entailed a perpetual +upheaval of her peace of mind.</p> + +<p>She was at her wits' end. To face her mother with another scheme for +Leonetta's welfare was out of the question. What could she do?</p> + +<p>Fortunately for Cleopatra, Leonetta herself brought about the +unravelment in a manner sufficiently satisfactory to her sister.</p> + +<p>Charming and, in many ways, irresistible as she was, Leonetta had +brought back a will of her own from Versailles, and a tongue, too, by +means of which she secured that will's highest purposes. During her +absence from London, however, her mother had acquired certain habits and +tastes, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> pursuit of which now frequently clashed with her own plans +and ran distinctly counter to her notion of what a mother should be and +should do. For Cleopatra had made singularly few claims upon her +mother's time all this while, and had never questioned her absolute +right to seek her enjoyment when and where she chose.</p> + +<p>After a year of this novel experience, during which Mrs. Delarayne had +discovered new haunts and new households in which she could behave, even +if she were not accepted, as a person who was not of "mediæval +antiquity," her taste for this kind of life had developed. Enamoured as +this sprightly quinquagenarian had always been of the other sex, and +resolute as she was to show that an old war-horse could prance as +bravely as a colt to the stirring trumpet call of youth, she had entered +heart and soul into an existence which her late husband would have +deprecated as strongly as he had once admired the spirit which led her +to do it.</p> + +<p>Now the sudden intrusion of a full-grown, wilful and extraordinarily +vigorous girl of fifteen and a half years upon these newly acquired +habits, proved a source of some vexation to the widow; and, love +Leonetta as she might, she very quickly discovered that the peace of +mind and freedom of action that Cleopatra had allowed her unstintingly +were to be despotically withheld by her younger and more exacting +offspring.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra watched and understood all this. It seemed that Mrs. Delarayne +and Leonetta were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> inevitably heading towards a catastrophe; nor did the +elder girl take any steps, either by word or deed, to guide either of +them to a peaceable adjustment of their differences.</p> + +<p>Gradually Leonetta grew to be deliberately rude with her parent, would +refuse to fetch and carry for her, was quickly bored over any little +personal service performed for her, and did her best in every way to +cramp the widow's ever freshly sprouting affection.</p> + +<p>At last Cleopatra felt she must put in a word. Her mother was very +highly strung, in any case too much so to be exposed constantly to +irritation and sorrow. Could she help? Could she speak to Baby?</p> + +<p>It was then that Mrs. Delarayne had opened her heart to Cleopatra. No, +she had made up her mind. Reluctantly she had been forced to the +conclusion that Leonetta must go away,—to a school of domesticity, or +of gardening or something,—where she could acquire not only +information, but also the discipline which would save her from growing +up an impossible woman.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra had given vent to a sigh of relief, and with decent slowness +and hesitation had ultimately agreed.</p> + +<p>A somewhat acrimonious quarrel between Mrs. Delarayne and Leonetta, a +day or two after this conversation had taken place, proved to be the +determining factor. In her passion Leonetta had declared that she would +be as glad as anything to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> go, if only for company, as it seemed to her +that her mother was eternally "gadding about"; and it was only when she +was alone in a first-class carriage travelling northward that she +regretted this hasty and ill-considered speech.</p> + +<p>Another year had passed in this way; Leonetta had by now become, +according to the domesticity school reports, an accomplished +housekeeper, and, as a girl of seventeen, was on her way home. Coming +home!—Cleopatra had dwelt on this homecoming every wakeful hour of the +last thirty days, and again she felt that pang, or pain, or strange +convulsion of the heart, which she loathed because it humiliated her, +and which she combated because it threatened to master her.</p> + +<p>Thus did Cleopatra meditate over her lot as she examined her fine, +strong, disengaged hand, as she sat in the study on that afternoon in +June; and Jane Austen's <i>Sense and Sensibility</i> had little to offer her +either in comfort or enlightenment.</p> + +<p>It was a fine hand she looked at. The fingers were well-shaped, long and +even, without any of those thicknesses at the joints which so often mar +the beauty of hands even in men. The finger-nails were not too long, and +there was a sort of "well-upholstered" fulness of the fingers and palm +which spoke of health and latent efficiency. It was not a small hand, or +in any case, not too small a hand, and on the inside it possessed those +soft corrugations that denote artistic sensibilities.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>The central offices of Bullion and Bullion Ltd. were in Lombard Street. +They occupied a large building constructed of ferroconcrete, on each +floor of which, except the first, there was accommodation for hundreds +of clerks.</p> + +<p>The room occupied by Sir Joseph Bullion, on the first floor, was one of +those apartments with very tall mantelpieces and enormous windows, which +seem to have been designed for a race of giants. Certainly Sir Joseph +himself, unless he had climbed on a chair, could never have rested his +elbow against the mantelpiece, nor could he have deposited his cigar +thereon without an unusually strenuous effort. The remaining +appointments of the room, except for two or three exquisite Stuart +cabinets and some priceless old masters on the walls, were designed on +the same scale. Sir Joseph's own table, for instance, though of normal +height, looked as if it might have been purchased by the acre, while the +carpet, a huge Turkey, presented an enormously long pile, as soft as +moss, to the feet. Even the chair on which the head of the firm sat was +exceptionally large, and seemed to offer its occupant the constant +alterna<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>tive of definitely selecting either one or the other side of the +extensive surface which lay between its arms.</p> + +<p>Opposite him at a smaller table sat his chief private secretary, Denis +Malster, a pale, clean-shaven, intelligent-looking young man, with +mouse-coloured hair, grey eyes, and somewhat thin lips. Certainly Mrs. +Delarayne must have been right about his sense of humour, for a pleasant +twinkle played about his eyes, even while he was at work, which gave him +the air of one amused by what he was doing.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph did not pretend to understand the people who served him; but +having been hard driven himself in his day, he had a pretty shrewd +notion of the power he could safely exercise over them, and of the +duties, supplementary to the office routine, which he could reasonably +induce them to fulfil. To make fourths at tennis or at bridge, to fill a +gap at a Cinderella dance or at a dinner, or to help at a charity +bazaar—these were some of the duties which Sir Joseph's highest +personnel knew that they might be called upon to perform at any moment +for one of Sir Joseph's numerous lady friends.</p> + +<p>Thus a few days after his visit to Mrs. Delarayne, which has already +been described, the Chairman of Bullion and Bullion Ltd., occupying the +centre of his thronelike chair, was engaged on two tasks, either one of +which would have been sufficient to occupy the wits of any ordinary +man.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> He had before him the figures showing the business of his firm for +the half year, and in the intervals of his study of these data, he was +covertly watching his chief private secretary, with a view to estimating +his chances of success in regard to a certain secret scheme in which +this young man was to play a leading part.</p> + +<p>Suddenly his dual activities were interrupted by the chief messenger, +who, entering in his usual pompous fashion, presented a card to his +chief, bearing the name Aubrey St. Maur. "The gentleman wishes to see +you urgently, Sir Joseph," said the man.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph passed the card to his assistant, and waited for +enlightenment.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster examined it, rose, and returned it to Sir Joseph. "Lives +in Upper Brook Street, Mayfair," he said; "he's evidently somebody, but +I've never heard of him."</p> + +<p>"The point is," Sir Joseph exclaimed sharply, "have I an appointment +with him?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, you have no appointment with him," said Denis firmly, without +referring to the notes on his table.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph was too well aware of his secretary's efficiency to doubt +this assurance, and bade him go to see what Mr. Aubrey St. Maur wanted.</p> + +<p>In a moment Denis returned. "He's from Lord Henry Highbarn," he informed +his chief. "He wishes to deliver a message to you."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph glanced out of the huge window at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> his side, and appeared to +take counsel of the tangle of chimney pots and telegraph wires that +formed the only prospect from that side of the building. He repeated the +name once or twice in a mystified manner, at length remembered the +difficult task Mrs. Delarayne had asked him to perform in persuading +Lord Henry to abandon his mission to China, and bade his secretary show +St. Maur in.</p> + +<p>The young man who followed Denis back into the room was a person of +refined and handsome appearance, who, as he advanced towards Sir Joseph, +introduced himself and explained his business with a degree of grace and +composure at which even the seasoned old Stuart furniture seemed to +stare in amazement.</p> + +<p>St. Maur took a chair beside Sir Joseph's vast table, and Malster +returned to his place.</p> + +<p>"You are doubtless aware," said the stranger, "that Lord Henry was due +here at this very moment."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph looked furtively towards his secretary and nodded.</p> + +<p>St. Maur then proceeded to explain that owing to urgent Party duties at +Westminster Lord Henry could not possibly reach Lombard Street before +six o'clock that evening, and begged Sir Joseph to say whether he could +see him at that hour. He was to return to Westminster at once and convey +Sir Joseph's reply to Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>The baronet fixed the appointment with Lord Henry for that hour, and St. +Maur rose to go.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Half a minute!" exclaimed Sir Joseph. "Please remain seated a moment +longer, Mr. St. Maur, and tell me something about Lord Henry. I am a +busy man and have not much time to keep myself informed of all these +matters. Lord Henry must be a younger son of the Marquis of Firle, is he +not?"</p> + +<p>"He's the third and youngest son," replied St. Maur.</p> + +<p>"And may I ask for details about the title;—you must think me +dreadfully ignorant!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, sir," St. Maur answered. "It is a Charles I. creation. They +are a Sussex family. As you probably know, Charles I. did not create +peers indiscriminately. The Stuart creations are, on the whole, a credit +to the monarchs who were responsible for them, particularly those of +Charles I."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph nodded politely, but looked as if this information did not +quite harmonise with his own conception of that prince.</p> + +<p>"The fourth Earl of Chesterfield perhaps disgraced himself a little over +Dr. Johnson," St. Maur added, "but as a rule the families who owe their +rank to the Royal Martyr have upheld their great traditions with +singular success. And possibly against the case of the fourth Earl of +Chesterfield we may set that of the sixth Lord Byron, who gave us +<i>Childe Harold</i> and <i>Manfred</i>."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph was genuinely interested. "Lord<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> Henry is, I believe, a very +wonderful personality," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"You are right, sir," replied St. Maur, "very wonderful."</p> + +<p>The young man rose again. He was a little above medium height, with dark +crisp hair and a sallow complexion. His figure and features gave the +impression of metallic virility: they were at once hard, supple, +clean-cut, and finely moulded. His mouth was a little full, and his jaw +perhaps a trifle heavy, but the deep thoughtful eyes gave a balance to +his face which saved it from appearing unduly sensual.</p> + +<p>"That is a pleasant young man," Sir Joseph declared, when St. Maur had +gone.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Denis replied half-heartedly. He, too, had been impressed by St. +Maur, but not favourably. For Denis Malster, cultivated, sleek, and +refined though he was, just lacked that exuberance and vitality which he +had observed in St. Maur, and which made the latter so conspicuously his +superior. Denis had nothing to compensate him for his tame, careful, +Kensington breeding. St. Maur, on the other hand, had that fire and +warmth of blood, without which even the highest breeding is little more +than the extirpation of the animal at the expense of the man. Denis was +an easy winner with the women of his class, precisely because of the +parade which, in his face, nature made of his gentle antecedents; but he +had sufficient intelligence to realise that when women are confronted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +by a man possessing all he possessed, besides that something more that +was noticeable in St. Maur the best of them do not hesitate a second in +selecting the St. Maur type.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if that is all true about Charles I.?" Sir Joseph demanded +with a little irritation.</p> + +<p>Denis leant back in his chair and his eyes twinkled. "I doubt whether it +is true of Charles I.," he said; "but it certainly isn't true of his son +and heir, for Charles II. used the peerage more or less as a sort of +foundling hospital for his various illegitimate offspring."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph smiled, as he frequently did, at his secretary's odd way of +summing up a case, and then quickly resuming his gravity, glanced +searchingly at Denis as if pondering whether the word of such a man +could confidently be taken against that of an Aubrey St. Maur. For some +minutes he paced the rug in front of the fire-place, his hands behind +his back, and his head bowed. At last he raised his eyes and looked more +affably than usual at his assistant.</p> + +<p>"You know, Malster," he began, "I've been thinking for some time that +although you appear to take to this work less quickly than some men I +have had, you are on the whole trying your hardest—are you not?"</p> + +<p>Denis, a little startled by the palpable injustice of this remark, rose, +and resting the points of his fingers lightly on the table, leant +forward. "Ye—yes, sir," he stammered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Ow old are you?" Sir Joseph continued.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-eight, sir."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph repeated the words. "How much are you getting?"</p> + +<p>"Eight hundred, sir," Denis replied.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph turned sharply on his heel and slightly accelerated his pace +across the rug.</p> + +<p>"H'm! Well, I propose to make it a thousand," he said thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster smiled nervously. "Thank you, Sir Joseph."</p> + +<p>"I propose to do this," continued the baronet, "because I think you must +be wanting to marry, and because I think it wrong that a man of your age +should be prevented from marrying owing to lack of means. D'you +understand? Only that!"</p> + +<p>"I think it most considerate of you," Denis faltered again.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's settled," said Sir Joseph drily. "But," he added, always +on tenterhooks of anxiety lest one of his staff should begin to think +too much of himself, "I should like you to be quite clear about my +reasons for the change. I don't want you to run away with the notion +that I am giving you a rise because I am entirely satisfied with your +work."</p> + +<p>As he said this Sir Joseph resumed his seat, and pulled in his heavy +chair as smartly as he was able, with the air of a man who had neatly +achieved his object without abandoning the usual safe-guards.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a minute to six when the messenger announced Lord Henry Highbarn, +and the moment the announcement was made, Denis, reaching for his hat +and stick, took leave of his chief. He strode out into the street with a +sprightly gait, humming as he went:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I don't adore the girl in blue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all her family's after you."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There is probably in most men a sense of quality, a power of divination +in regard to value which, on occasions when they are confronted by a +stranger whose worth they do not know, informs them immediately of the +comparative rarity or commonness of his type. This sense may at first be +baffled by the delusive disguises in which men sometimes present +themselves, but as a rule a chance word, an artless gesture, or even a +glance, quickly corrects the initial error of the eye, and in a moment +the original estimate is adjusted to the unmistakable evidence of a +definite quality.</p> + +<p>When this peculiar apprehensiveness in regard to worth becomes aware of +any marked superiority in a fellow creature,—an experience which in +unhappy lives very seldom occurs,—a feeling of certainty usually +accompanies it, which is as mysterious as the evidence upon which it is +based is intangible and elusive. A man knows that he has met his +superior, he knows too how far the superiority he recognises extends, +and he is conscious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> of experiencing something exceptional, something +exquisitely precious.</p> + +<p>That such encounters are becoming every day more rare, probably explains +the increasing growth, in modern times, of that kind of disbelief and +heresy which, far from being wanton, arises from a total inability to +envisage greatness, whether in kings, ideals, or gods. For we arrive at +our most exalted images, not by solitary flights of imagination +unassisted, but by actual progressive steps in the world of concrete +things; so that the spring-board from which we take our final leap into +the highest concepts of what a god might be, is always the highest man +we happen to have met. We can have no other starting-point. Hence in an +age when greatness among men is too rare to be felt as a universal fact, +a disbelief in all gods is bound sooner or later to supervene.</p> + +<p>When Lord Henry Highbarn presented himself before Sir Joseph, it was +plain from the meek droop of the baronet's eyelids and the subdued +hesitating tone of his voice, that something in the young nobleman's +appearance had like a flash intimated to the experienced financial +magnate that here was someone of a quality as unfamiliar as it was rare. +Moreover, the difference which the older man felt distinguished him from +his visitor was of a kind too fundamental and insuperable to challenge +even that friendly rivalry so instinctive between two natures each +conscious of their own particular efficiency and excellence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>Indeed, it needed all the elaborate complications of our modern +civilisation to account even for the meeting of these two people under +the same roof, not to speak of the fact that they met on an equal +footing.</p> + +<p>The one, a plain but not unpretentious man of business, still a little +perplexed by his stupendous success, and not yet certain of his precise +social level, revealed in his unshapely but kindly features the modest +rung on which Nature herself would probably have placed him, if the +peculiar economic conditions of his Age had not intervened to bring +about a different result; while two characteristics alone led one to +suspect his latent power,—his large energetic hands with their powerful +spatulate fingers, and his masterful and meditative dark eyes.</p> + +<p>The other,—a tall, muscular, youthful-looking aristocrat, with deep-set +thoughtful blue eyes, a straight finely-chiselled nose, and a full +eloquent mouth (the whole overshadowed by an unusually lofty brow, from +which, particularly over the temples, the hair had noticeably +receded)—possessed that unconscious ease of manner and unassertive +masterfulness of bearing, which derive on the one hand from breeding, +and on the other from a constant habit of preoccupation with external +problems, that is unfavourable to any self-concern. As his alert vision +took in the details of his surroundings, including the person of Sir +Joseph himself, on whom he appeared to cast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> only the most casual +sidelong glances, it was clear that his mind, far from being occupied +with internal questionings, was measuring even then the probable extent +to which this visit might serve some ultimate important purpose upon +which the whole gravity and earnestness of his being seemed to be +concentrated; and if his solemn features occasionally relaxed into a +smile, it was precisely the habitual gravity of his mien that lent his +passing levity such extraordinarily persuasive merriness.</p> + +<p>It was chiefly Lord Henry's air of preoccupation that set Sir Joseph so +quickly at his ease. For although the baronet was familiar enough with +the sons of peers and peers themselves,—for had he not a number of them +on his various boards?—there was, as we have seen, something more than +mere rank in his youthful visitor to disturb him.</p> + +<p>While the first courteous platitudes were being exchanged, Sir Joseph +quietly took stock of his companion, and was for a brief moment a little +perturbed by the latter's unconventional attire.</p> + +<p>We have noticed that though he was young, Lord Henry's hair receded a +little from his brow, and made it appear even loftier than it actually +was. Between the high bald temples, however, a wisp of stiff fair hair +still remained over the centre of the young man's forehead, somewhat +resembling that seen in the portraits of Napoleon, and with this tuft +his long well-shaped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> and sensitive fingers would play continuously +while he spoke, with the result that he constantly bowed his head.</p> + +<p>Occasionally, therefore, when his customary gravity gave way for a space +and his face was irradiated with a smile or a laugh, an expression of +such irresistible and almost wicked mirth suffused his features, owing +to the upward glance he was constrained to give you from the bowed angle +of his head, that willy-nilly you were compelled to laugh with him.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph felt this; he was also aware of the peculiar charm of it; but +what struck him even more forcibly were Lord Henry's loose-fitting and +apparently badly cut clothes. Anyone else so clad would have looked +hopelessly dowdy, while the carelessly knotted green tie that bulged all +askew from beneath the young man's ample collar, seemed for a moment +almost offensive.</p> + +<p>It was strange how the displeasure provoked by these shortcomings in his +attire gradually vanished beneath the steady persuasiveness of the +wearer's fascinating personality; and very soon not only had Sir Joseph +ceased from feeling their aggressiveness, but had actually begun to +associate them inseparably with the strange charm of the creature before +him.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Delarayne," said Lord Henry, "would give me no peace until I came +to see you, Sir Joseph, so you must forgive me for forcing myself upon +you in this way, and relying for your for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>bearance simply upon the +strength of the friendship you bear her."</p> + +<p>He laughed, and Sir Joseph perforce laughed with him.</p> + +<p>"'Ave you seen her lately?" the baronet enquired.</p> + +<p>"She's always seeing me," Lord Henry replied, smiling in a manner that +was at once childishly winsome and wise. He was still startlingly +boyish, despite his thirty-three years, and though his slight baldness +added a few years to his face, he did not look a month older than +five-and-twenty.</p> + +<p>"She is very fond of you," Sir Joseph proceeded earnestly, beginning to +feel, for the first time, not only that Mrs. Delarayne's infatuation was +clearly justified, but also that young St. Maur had probably been right +in his remarks concerning Charles I.'s creations. It was strange to +recognise the evidences of unusual wisdom in such a childish face; it +reminded him vaguely of what he had heard or dreamt of Chinese +mandarins,—evidently such phenomena were possible.</p> + +<p>"She's an amazingly captivating woman," muttered Lord Henry, still +pulling at the tuft of hair over his brow. "Her blank refusal to accept +the fact of her advancing years is the most wonderful and at the same +time the most pathetic thing about her."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph, with an expression of deep curiosity, leant heavily over the +right arm of his chair, and stared expectantly at his visitor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She has not had her second decisive love affair, you see," Lord Henry +continued. "And every day she arrays herself to experience it,—that +second and decisive love affair which alone reconciles the best women to +old age and to snow-white locks."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph fidgeted. He did not understand, but thought he did. "Her +second and decisive love affair," he repeated,—"yes."</p> + +<p>"We are apt to forget," continued Lord Henry, "that all deep, decently +constituted women have two definite relationships to man, one alone of +which is insufficient to satisfy them. The first is their relationship +of wife to the man more or less of their own generation whom they have +loved; the second is the relationship of mother to the man of their +children's generation, whom under favourable circumstances they +worship."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph shifted in his chair, raised his hand to his chin and looked +fixedly at the speaker.</p> + +<p>"This last and most precious relationship is the only one that +reconciles a woman to her wrinkles and makes her happy in her grey +hairs. Without it she takes to peroxide, smooths out her wrinkles with +cream, and what is even more tragic, developes a tendency to pursue the +young men of her children's generation. People call it ridiculous, +lunatic,—so it would be, if it were not so nobly, so terribly +pathetic."</p> + +<p>"But I have known women with grown-up sons behave exactly as Mrs. +Delarayne behaves," Sir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> Joseph objected with as much breath as he could +summon in his surprise at what Lord Henry had said.</p> + +<p>"Not sons with whom they are in love," Lord Henry corrected. "Most +mothers have sons, but of these not all experience that great love for +one of their male offspring which is perhaps the most beautiful, the +most passionate, and the most permanent of earthly relationships. Mrs. +Delarayne is obviously a woman who would have been capable of such a +relationship had she only had a son."</p> + +<p>"Is it only one particular son?" Sir Joseph enquired with an unconscious +note of profound humility in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Always—yes!"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry, still tugging at his wisp of hair, now turned to Sir Joseph, +and blinking very quickly, as was his wont when deeply absorbed in a +subject, contemplated the baronet for a moment in silence.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't that clear up the problem of Mrs. Delarayne a little for you?" +he asked at last. "Believe me, few women care to admit that they are +thirty-five unless they have a husband whom they love, and still fewer +women resign themselves to their fiftieth year unless they are wrapped +up in a beloved son."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph, to whom Mrs. Delarayne, except for her repeated refusals of +his hand, had never been precisely a problem, demurred a little. "It +certainly sheds some light,—yes," he said slowly. "But don't you think +that a second great love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> with a man more or less of her own generation +is equally satisfying to a woman like that?"</p> + +<p>"How can it be when it is simply a repetition of a former and thoroughly +explored experience?" Lord Henry replied. "I do not mean, mind you, that +great-hearted women who have not enjoyed that exquisite relationship to +a beloved son, are conscious that it is this circumstance which has been +lacking in their lives. Because precious little whatever is conscious in +the best women. But in their loathing and repudiation of advancing +years, and in their repeated attachments to men of my generation, such +women reveal to the psychologist the constant ache they feel from the +vast empty chamber in their hearts."</p> + +<p>For some moments Sir Joseph played idly with an ivory paper-knife on his +desk. He had completely forgotten the object of Lord Henry's visit. It +was as if he had always known the man, and that they were just having +one of their usual pleasant chats after their work was done. Such was +the power that Lord Henry possessed of immersing his listeners in the +thoughts that occupied his mind.</p> + +<p>"And this," continued the younger man, after a while, "is the only +consideration which makes me feel I ought to marry. I mean that it +almost amounts to wanton vandalism not to give a wife of one's choice +and a son of one's own begetting at least the chance of beautifying the +world by this most wonderful of all relationships."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are a poet," said Sir Joseph with that spontaneous penetration of +which the uncultivated are sometimes capable.</p> + +<p>"If to understand Mrs. Delarayne a man must be a poet, then I am one," +Lord Henry replied, smiling in his irresistible way.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph perforce smiled too, and the return to earth which this faint +levity signified, reminded him of the real object of the young +nobleman's visit. The thought did not reassure him, however; for after +all the intelligence he had been able to glean regarding his visitor's +character, he realised that if Lord Henry had resolved to undertake this +mission to China, it would obviously serve no purpose to exhort him to +change his mind. It was clear that Mrs. Delarayne could not have +understood the man she was dealing with; or, if she had, she must have +urged this step as a last hope.</p> + +<p>As a forlorn hope it certainly appeared to Sir Joseph, and it was only +half-heartedly that he opened the attack.</p> + +<p>"And now tell me about China," he said. "Have you quite made up your +mind?"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry rose, thrust his hands deep into his trousers pockets, and +paced the hearth-rug.</p> + +<p>"I think so," he replied, musing deeply as he glanced from one to the +other of Sir Joseph's art treasures.</p> + +<p>"But you are doing good here," the baronet protested feebly. "What good +will you do in China?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not convinced that I am doing good here," Lord Henry rejoined +sharply. "That's precisely the point."</p> + +<p>"But everybody says you are."</p> + +<p>"No doubt."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph turned to his ivory paper-knife. He did not understand.</p> + +<p>"If it's doing good," Lord Henry added, "to salve the nervous wreckage +that our unspeakable Western civilisation produces with every +generation; if it's doing good to render the disastrous mess which we +have made of human life possible for a few years longer, by bringing +relief to the principal victims of it; then, indeed, I am a desirable +member of society. But I question the whole thing. I question very much +whether it can be doing good to help this hopeless condition of things +to last one moment longer than it need."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph glanced up a little anxiously. "Are you serious?" he +enquired.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry sat down again.</p> + +<p>"Am I serious?" he scoffed. "Can you be serious, can you be sane, and +expect me to think otherwise? But you have been a great success by means +of the very system which is rotten and iniquitous to the core. How could +you sympathise?"</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph stammered hopelessly that he was trying to sympathise.</p> + +<p>"You are no doubt convinced," Lord Henry continued, "that all you are +witnessing to-day is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> what you would call Progress. And the further we +recede from a true understanding of human life and its most vital needs, +and the more we complicate the world and increase its machinery, the +more persuaded you become of the reality of your illusion. How could it +be otherwise?"</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph expostulated ineffectually, and Lord Henry continued:</p> + +<p>"Still, I am not a reformer," he said. "I do not wish to reform, even if +I could. It is not only too late, things are also too desperate. What I +chiefly want is to take refuge somewhere where humanity and its deepest +needs are the subject of greater mastery, greater understanding; so that +I can cease from being distracted by the immensity of modern error. No +great intellect, no great creative power can exist in this country; +because the moment it becomes conscious it is so obsessed by the shams +and the shamelessness that surround it, that instead of devoting itself +to the joys and enrichment of life, it feels impelled by the horrors on +every side to take up the social system and attempt to put it right. +This sterile pitfall is now the temptation of the greatest minds. Your +Shelley, your Coleridge, even your Byron,—what did they do? Menaced by +this same vortex of negative effort, sentenced to intellectual +annihilation if they attempted to straighten out the muddle of +modernity, they fled, or drowned themselves in water or opium."</p> + +<p>He had ceased playing with his tuft of hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> His face was distraught +with indignation and with the bitterness of a thwarted love of mankind; +it was also illuminated by the distant dream of a world as he would have +it, so that though he brought down his fist on the corner of Sir +Joseph's table with some weight, the baronet was too much moved to +notice the gesture.</p> + +<p>"Things are so bad," he pursued, lightly lowering his voice, "that to +have any genuine insight to-day, any special human feeling to-day, means +perforce to devote these gifts to the social problem, instead of to art +and to beauty. That is the curse of being born into this Age. The +gigantic ghastliness of modern Western civilisation successfully engulfs +every superior brain that comes to being in its midst."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph fell back limply in his chair. He acknowledged the game was +lost before the struggle had actually begun. How could he presume to +strike a bargain with such a man? He remembered Mrs. Delarayne, however, +and braced himself once more.</p> + +<p>"There are times," Lord Henry began again, glancing kindly at Sir +Joseph, "when I feel that perhaps I ought at least to risk even my life +in order to do something here, in this country. But what is one man's +life in the face of this sea of blunders? What is even a giant's effort, +against the Lilliputian swarm of modern men who are determined to gain +the precipice?"</p> + +<p>"I was hoping," said Sir Joseph quietly, "that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> might make you an +offer which would induce you to abandon this mission to the Far East. I +was hoping, in fact, that I might help you."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry glanced thoughtfully at the baronet and then shook his head.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph, more and more convinced that he was embarking on a hopeless +enterprise, persisted notwithstanding.</p> + +<p>"I am prepared to put a considerable sum of money at your disposal," he +said. "I believe your sanatorium for nervous disorders in Kent is a +veritable public boon. I feel that I could not find a nobler public +object for my wealth than to support you in your work."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry rapped his fingers on his knees impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Could I not assist you in enlarging this establishment? Could I not +give it a permanent foundation or effect what alterations in it you may +suggest for its improvement and greater utility? If by the same token I +succeeded in retaining you in England, I feel I should in addition be +doing a personal service to someone, to a lady, for whom you and I have +a very deep respect."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry blinked rapidly as he turned to face the old gentleman at his +side, and his smile was kind and courteous.</p> + +<p>"If, Sir Joseph, my only motive in going abroad were indeed to transact +the business of the Society for Anthropological Research, I might +perhaps be induced to yield to the temptation you so gener<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>ously put in +my way. But seeing that possibly my principal object is to give my +endowments a fair chance away from this whirlpool of confusion, which +makes social reform a morbid <i>idée fixe</i>, I cannot persuade myself that +it would be worth while."</p> + +<p>"But supposing," Sir Joseph persisted lamely, "I gave you +<i>carte-blanche</i> to extend your work as you liked?"</p> + +<p>"And with what object?"</p> + +<p>"I have told you the object," the baronet replied mildly.</p> + +<p>"No!" exclaimed the younger man with emphasis. "The object would be to +add to the organisations which are springing up everywhere for the +purpose of making our impossible civilisation possible for at least a +little while longer. <i>That</i> would be the ultimate object."</p> + +<p>"How much would you require?" Sir Joseph suggested in his most melting +tones, still clinging desperately to his belief in the only bait he +possessed.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry laughed despondently. "Only enough to purchase sufficient +dynamite to blow my present sanatorium skywards," he said. Then resuming +his gravity and rising, he extended a hand to the baronet.</p> + +<p>"No," he added, "I'm afraid my mind is made up. I must leave this +country, Mrs. Delarayne or no Mrs. Delarayne. Thank you very much +indeed, all the same. I have seen you and enjoyed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> our talk. Mrs. +Delarayne's behest has at least been strictly obeyed."</p> + +<p>"When will you be leaving?" Sir Joseph enquired, gracefully throwing +down his cards.</p> + +<p>"In about three months' time, I expect."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, very sorry," ejaculated the baronet.</p> + +<p>The two men walked gravely to the door.</p> + +<p>On the threshold Lord Henry stopped, and looking methodically round the +room, pointed at last to one of the most beautiful of Sir Joseph's +Stuart cabinets.</p> + +<p>"You also unconsciously acknowledge that there is something revolting +and intolerable about this Age, Sir Joseph," he said smiling +mischievously; "otherwise why do you use your wealth to surround +yourself both here, and as I understand at Brineweald too, with all the +treasures of art that were produced by our ancestors."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry laughed again; his deep thoughtful eyes filled with the tears +of mirth, and he vanished from the room leaving Sir Joseph contemplating +his costly old furniture with feelings of utter bewilderment.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>Despite Sir Joseph's very careful reservations in regard to the +increase, which unsolicited he had thought fit to make in his chief +secretary's salary, Denis, who was perfectly well aware of his own +efficiency, was inclined rather to discount every feature of his +master's generous behaviour, except the covert tribute which he believed +it was intended to make to his invaluable services. He knew the business +man's instinctive reluctance to reveal his full appreciation of a +subordinate's worth, and felt he must allow for this. But, on the other +hand, in view of Sir Joseph's intimate relations with the Delarayne +household, he was unable altogether to dispel a certain lurking anxiety +concerning the baronet's very precise allusions to the question of +marriage, which it was hard to believe could have been altogether +gratuitous. This thought was disquieting.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster, without being exactly an incurable philanderer, was +nevertheless insufficiently commonplace to contemplate marriage, in the +Pauline sense, as a necessity. He was much more disposed, at least for +the present, to regard it merely as a piquant possibility, towards which +his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> very attitude of indecision lent him an extra weapon of power in +his relations with the other sex.</p> + +<p>His life, hitherto, had been enjoyable, he thought, simply because it +had been an uninterrupted preparation for marriage without the dull +certainty of a definite conclusion. To excite interest in the other sex +and envy in his own had, ever since he had been a boy of eighteen, +constituted the breath of his nostrils, the one spring from which he +drew his love of life and his desire to live. Immaculate in his dress, +adequately cultivated and intellectual in his speech, and carefully +punctilious in the adoption of such amateur pursuits as would be likely +to give him the stamp of artistic connoisseurship, he had until now +employed his ample income principally in furnishing his extensive +wardrobe, in collecting old books and prints, and in giving his chambers +that appearance of <i>outré</i> refinement, which was calculated to force his +friends to certain inevitable conclusions concerning both his means and +the extent of his æsthetic development.</p> + +<p>In the circumstances, therefore, it was difficult for him to regard the +addition to his income, which Sir Joseph had suddenly thought fit to +make, as anything more than a fresh means of indulging his various whims +to an even greater degree than he had indulged them heretofore,—those +whims which had by now become almost driving passions to the exclusion +of all else;—and he was certainly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> not in the least disposed to take +Sir Joseph at his word, and to embark upon that undertaking which he +knew would put an abrupt end to all the careless dalliance in which his +clothes, his fastidious speech, and his parade of artistic +discrimination played so effective a part.</p> + +<p>Such were the thoughts that occupied his mind as he made his way from +Lombard Street to his rooms in Essex Court; and by the time he had +dressed for dinner and was waiting for a cab in the Strand, a look of +fixed determination had settled on his face which was indicative of the +firm resolve he had made.</p> + +<p>In any case Sir Joseph could not expect him to marry immediately. For a +while yet, therefore, he would continue to enjoy the life so full of +secret triumphs which he had succeeded in leading ever since he had +entered the house of Bullion & Bullion, and from this day with the +additional pleasures that his increased income would allow. Had he not +been told by Mrs. Delarayne herself that a man should not marry until +flappers had ceased to turn round to get a second look at him in the +street? And was there not something profoundly wise in this advice, +although it had been pronounced in one of the old lady's most flippant +moods? A smile of complacent well-being spread slowly over his features +as he recalled this remark, and the last endorsement was mentally +affixed to his private plans.</p> + +<p>What would Cleopatra Delarayne do? Chari<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>tably, almost chivalrously, he +imagined, he gave her a thought. Had he led her to hope? Undoubtedly he +had. But then he had not resolved never to marry; he had merely +determined to postpone the step <i>sine die</i>. Perhaps in a year or two he +would come to a definite understanding with Cleopatra. After all, she +was only twenty-five. She was an attractive girl, and she would be +wealthy. He felt that marriage with her would not be an uninviting +conclusion to another year or two of his present delightful existence. +Thus he satisfied his conscience and gratified his deepest wishes into +the bargain.</p> + +<p>He dined alone at the Café Royal. It was a sultry evening, and London +was still stifling after a sweltering day. One had the feeling that the +roofs and masonry of the buildings all about were still burning, as +probably they were, with the heat of the sun that had been pouring down +upon them all day; and the big city seemed to breathe its hot dust into +the face of its inhabitants.</p> + +<p>Having nothing better to do, he thought how pleasant it would be to +finish the day in Mrs. Delarayne's cool garden in Kensington, and +thither he betook himself after his meal, devoutly hoping that they +would be at home.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra had evidently been half expecting him, for she appeared in the +drawing-room on the heels of the maid who had ushered him in, and gave +him a friendly welcome. Mrs. Delarayne had ensconced herself upstairs +and did not wish to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> be disturbed, and at that moment her penetrating +voice could be heard conducting what appeared to be a most lively and +acrimonious debate with someone unknown across the telephone. So on +Denis's suggestion they went into the garden and installed themselves +there in Cleopatra's favourite bower.</p> + +<p>"Rather late for the Warrior to be upbraiding a tradesman," Denis +observed. "I wonder what she can be doing."</p> + +<p>He had nicknamed Mrs. Delarayne "the Warrior" himself. He was sensitive +enough to apprehend the strong strain of courage in her character; he +had on several occasions been impressed by the tenacious boldness of her +claims to youth and by the energy she displayed in keeping up the +difficult part,—frequently entailing exertions out of all proportion to +her bodily vigour;—so he had nicknamed her "the Warrior." But this +sobriquet was used only when he and Cleopatra were alone together.</p> + +<p>"The poor Warrior is peevish anyhow, you see," Cleopatra explained. +"Baby comes home to-morrow, and if there's anything that annoys mother +to exasperation, it is to have to cluck and fuss round her chick like an +old hen. She loathes it, and Baby always makes her feel she must do it."</p> + +<p>Denis pretended to be interested only in a casual way. "What sort of a +girl is—Baby?" he asked. "Is she like you?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose she is like me to the same extent that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> I am like the +Warrior," the girl replied. "But she's most like the Warrior herself. +Imagine my mother at the age of seventeen and you know my sister. Surely +you have seen that old photograph of the Warrior as a girl in the +drawing-room? It is simply Baby over again,—or rather <i>vice versa</i>."</p> + +<p>"I must look at it," said Denis thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"In fact they are so much alike," Cleopatra proceeded, "that they know +each other inside out, and annoy each other accordingly."</p> + +<p>"They don't get on well then?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, but Baby's a little trying at times. You see, she will forget +for instance that we call mother Edith, and have done ever since father +died; and she will suddenly shout Mother! out loud on crowded railway +platforms, or at the Academy, or worse still at garden parties, which +always gives the Warrior one of those nervous attacks for which she has +to go to Lord Henry."</p> + +<p>Denis started almost imperceptibly at the mention of Lord Henry's name, +and turned an interested face towards the girl. "Do you know Lord +Henry?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't. There are some men the Warrior knows whom she never +introduces to me. I feel as if I knew Lord Henry very well indeed, but I +have never met him."</p> + +<p>"You haven't lost much," Denis snapped.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon?" Cleopatra exclaimed, smiling kindly but +deprecatingly, and arching her neck a little, as she scented the +injustice behind his remark.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He dresses abominably," Denis pursued, "and from what I can gather is +benighted enough to believe in our beheaded sovereign Charles I."</p> + +<p>"He must be very able though," the girl objected. "It isn't often, is +it, that our aristocracy distinguish themselves? And d'you know that he +is a Fellow of the Royal Society entirely on the strength of his +original research into the subject of modern nervous disorders?"</p> + +<p>Denis pouted and smiled with an ostentatious show of incredulity. "He's +the son of the Marquis of Firle, remember!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I don't believe that's got anything to do with it—honestly!" +she retorted.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra knew her mother as well as any daughter has ever known her +parent; she could have compiled a catalogue of Mrs. Delarayne's foibles +more exhaustive and elaborate than any that Mrs. Delarayne's worst +enemies could have produced; but, on the other hand, she had so often +found her mother a safe guide where her fellow creatures were concerned, +and had thus acquired so deep a faith in her mother's judgment, that it +was hard for her to believe that in the matter of Lord Henry the Warrior +could be mistaken.</p> + +<p>She regarded her companion for some moments in silence. He was cutting a +cigar, and failed to notice that she was observing him.</p> + +<p>Certainly he was very sleek and smart, and showed that perfect +efficiency in all he did which betokens general ability. What was it +then that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> gave her a little pang of doubt whenever she was moved by an +impulse to look up to him? His voice, it is true, was thin and a trifle +high-pitched,—always a bad sign in a man,—but she would have +overlooked all his shortcomings if only her craving to revere where she +loved had been sufficiently gratified. He was beyond all question the +best type of man who had hitherto paid her attention. Others, perhaps, +might have been more manly; but then they had been clumsy, heavy, and +puerile, and had, above all, lacked that air of complete efficiency +which was perhaps Denis's greatest asset.</p> + +<p>She thought herself foolish for expecting too much from life, and +without any effort turned a kindly smiling face to her visitor.</p> + +<p>"The Warrior!" he ejaculated suddenly, blowing sharp strong puffs from +his cigar; and he was either annoyed or made a good pretence of it.</p> + +<p>Yes, there, indeed, was Mrs. Delarayne, stalking majestically up the +garden, and from the way she glanced rapidly from side to side, and +grabbed at her frock, it was plain that she was in none too pleasant a +mood.</p> + +<p>Denis rose when she was about four yards from them.</p> + +<p>She glanced quickly at Cleopatra, seemed to notice the perfect serenity +of both young people with marked dissatisfaction, rapidly recorded the +fact that her daughter's hair was utterly undisturbed, and smiled +grimly. "Evidently things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> have taken their usual course," she mused. +"He had not even attempted to kiss her!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you think you two people are rather silly to sit out here doing +nothing?" she demanded irascibly.</p> + +<p>"It's so delightfully cool," Denis protested.</p> + +<p>"Yes, too cool!" snapped the old lady with a deliberate glance at her +daughter, which was intended to convey the full meaning of her words.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra moved impatiently. Her mother always made her feel so +miserably defective, and this was hard to forgive.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne settled herself elegantly in a wicker chair, took a +cigarette from a case, and snapped the case to with a decisive click. +She looked hot and a little tired, and as Denis proffered her a light he +noticed the beads of perspiration amid the powder round her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I've had the most tiresome evening imaginable," she croaked.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," said her daughter. "We heard you."</p> + +<p>"Really men are most ridiculous cowards," she cried, frowning hard at +Denis. "There's Sir Joseph, for instance. He's failed ignominiously with +Lord Henry; has been unable to induce him to give up his absurd mission +to China, and instead of coming here to tell me all about it, he keeps +me thirty-five minutes brawling at him over the 'phone in this heat, +simply because he daren't face me!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p>Denis stretched out his legs before him and clasped his hands at the +back of his head. This was a signal, well known to the women, that a +long analytical speech was to follow, and Mrs. Delarayne looked wearily +away, as if to imply before the start that she was not in the least +interested.</p> + +<p>"It's all organisation nowadays," Denis began. "If you can organise your +machinery with the help of good subordinates, the trick is done. And +since Sir Joseph simply exudes lubricants, everything works smoothly and +successfully. He——"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk of exuding lubricants in this weather, please!" Mrs. +Delarayne interrupted. "I suffer from the heat almost as badly as +butter."</p> + +<p>It was becoming clear to Cleopatra that her mother was for some reason +intent on chastising their visitor, and she watched the interesting woman +before her with her filial feeling in almost complete abeyance. The +children of remarkable parents frequently do this after they have turned a +certain age. It is not disrespect, but merely absent-mindedness.</p> + +<p>It was almost dark now, and Denis noticed Mrs. Delarayne's fine profile +outlined against the lighted rooms of the house. There was a sadness +delineated on her handsome, aristocratic face, which, as he had observed +before, was to be seen only when her features were quite still. Could +this apparently gay widow still be mourning her husband? Denis was +sufficiently romantic and ill-informed to imagine this just possible.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So the interview between Sir Joseph and Lord Henry was a failure?" he +enquired trying to be sympathetic.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," Mrs. Delarayne rejoined, flinging her cigarette into +the bushes at her side. "And I do so hate the idea of going out to +China."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra laughed. "But, Edith, surely you don't really mean that you'll +go to China if Lord Henry goes?"</p> + +<p>Denis glanced quickly at Cleopatra and in his eyes she read the +supercilious message: "People of <i>our</i> generation could not be so +foolish."</p> + +<p>"You don't flatter yourself, Cleo, I hope," Mrs. Delarayne retorted +icily, "that I say these things to amuse you and Denis, do you?"</p> + +<p>Cleopatra signified by a glance directed at Denis that she did not like +the message in his eyes, and regretting the laugh with which she had +opened her last remark, she turned conciliatingly to her mother.</p> + +<p>"I'd go with you, Edith dear, if you wanted me to," she said.</p> + +<p>For the first time since he had made their acquaintance Denis began to +have the shadow of an understanding of the depth of these two women's +attachment to each other, and he bowed his head.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Cleo," Mrs. Delarayne replied after satisfying herself that +there was not a trace of insincerity either in the voice or features of +her daughter. "We'll see."</p> + +<p>She rose, smoothed down the front of her frock<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> with a few rapid +gestures, and turned to the younger people.</p> + +<p>"Come on!" she said. "You and I cannot afford to lose our beauty sleep, +Cleo. Two hours before midnight,—you know the time, and it's now +half-past nine."</p> + +<p>Evidently Mrs. Delarayne intended to be rude to Denis. Sir Joseph had +told her something across the telephone, and she had expected a result +which had not occurred.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The following morning after breakfast Mrs. Delarayne as usual retired to +the bureau in the library where every day she devoted at least thirty +minutes to her housekeeping duties.</p> + +<p>Silently on this occasion Cleopatra followed in her wake, and pretending +to be in search of a book, lingered in her mother's company longer than +was her wont after the morning meal. Book after book was taken down from +the shelves, perfunctorily examined and returned to its place. Once or +twice the girl looked towards her mother, possibly in the hope that the +elder woman would provide the opening to the subject that was uppermost +in both their minds. At last Cleopatra spoke.</p> + +<p>"Baby comes home to-day," she said, in a voice strained to appear +cheerful.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne looked up from a tradesman's book. "Yes," she sighed +wearily. "One of Sir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> Joseph's cars is coming to fetch us at half-past +two. The train reaches King's Cross at three. Will you come?"</p> + +<p>"Of course,—rather!" Cleopatra exclaimed, taking down another book and +examining it cursorily.</p> + +<p>There was silence again, and Cleopatra could be heard running quickly +through the pages of the volume she held.</p> + +<p>"What is Baby going to do?" she asked after a while.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me!" exclaimed the mother.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you any plans?" the daughter enquired with studied +indifference, her eyes wandering vacantly over the letter-press before +them.</p> + +<p>"Plans—what plans?" ejaculated the old lady. "I suppose the poor child +will have to put up with us now. You don't suppose we can send her +gadding about the Continent again?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't dream of any such thing!" Cleopatra protested a little +guiltily.</p> + +<p>"No, I promised her that she should come home for good after the School +of Domesticity, and she expects it. You saw what she said in her last +letter."</p> + +<p>"Naturally," Cleopatra added, closing her book and replacing it +hurriedly on the shelves.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to put up with it—that's all, my dear. I hope she won't be +too trying. But you must really help me a little by taking her off my +hands, particularly on my Bridge and 'Inner Light' days."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>Cleopatra cast a glance full of meaning at her mother, and quietly left +the room. She had heard all she wanted to hear.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Meanwhile, the subject of this conversation, ensconced comfortably in +the corner of a first-class carriage, was speeding rapidly towards +London.</p> + +<p>Looking remarkably at her ease in a smart tailor-made frock of navy +serge, silk stockings, suede shoes, and a perfect summer hat trimmed +with bright cherries as red as her lips, she sat amid a farraginous +medley of newspapers, small parcels, and shiny leather traps, and +presented an attractive picture of a flourishing schoolgirl of +seventeen,—careless, mischievous, and keenly, though discreetly, +interested in everything about her;—but, perhaps a little too healthy, +and certainly too beautiful, to be quite typical either of the class or +of the kind of school from which she hailed.</p> + +<p>Her large dark eyes, veiled by unusually long lashes, looked sharply at +you and then quickly turned away, with that air of mystery and secrecy, +and love of secrets at all costs—even mock secrets—peculiar to the +young virgin of all climes. Occasionally in glancing away they would +half close in a thoughtful smile, which, to the uninitiated, unaware of +the irrepressible spirits of their owner, was as unaccountable as it was +provoking.</p> + +<p>There was an air of childhood still clinging, as if from habit alone, to +the outward insignia of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> maturity, in this mercurial, magnetic, and +undaunted young person; and in her malicious elfish eyes could be read +the solemn determination to force every possible claim that her double +advantage, as child and adult, could, according to the occasion, uphold.</p> + +<p>Her thick dark hair did not hang down her back in the rich spiral curl +which is now becoming so common among schoolgirls; for that it was too +plentiful, too troublesomely luxuriant. It hung like heavy bronze in a +thick stiff plait—a badge both of her robust youth and the redundant +richness of her blood,—and at its extremity it was tied with a broad +ribbon of black silk. Beneath her hat, bold festoons of hair reached +down almost to her eyebrows, and to these portions of her coiffure she +constantly applied her soft shapely sun-tanned fingers, as if to +reassure herself that they were keeping their proper position.</p> + +<p>The roguish expression of her face was partly due to pure health and +partly to wanton spirits, and her features possessed that exceptional +animation which, even in the simple process of eating a fondant, +produced the impression of extreme mobility.</p> + +<p>Having long previously examined her fellow-passengers and judged them +uninteresting, she divided her attention between the fleeting landscape +at her side, a box of fruit creams, which she was consuming with grave +perseverance, and the contents of a pocket-portfolio, which she +appeared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> to be slowly sorting and weeding out. To everything she did, +however, to each one of her movements, she had the air of imparting so +much mysteriousness, so much elaborate secrecy, that she soon found +herself the object of the united attention of all her companions. And +occasionally when her fresh full lips parted in a smile at the things +she read, the old gentleman opposite her had to turn also to the +fleeting landscape as a prophylactic against the infection of her high +spirits.</p> + +<p>She gave the impression of that aggressive vitality with which Nature +seems deliberately to equip her more favoured female children at this +age, as if to challenge the other sex to a definite attitude +immediately. A quivering freshness—the "bloom" of the poets—gave a +soft shimmer to her skin of which the powder of later years is such a +palpably poor travesty; her limbs were nicely rounded and not too +fragile; her teeth, like Cleopatra's, were perfect, and although she was +a trifle smaller than her sister, she was broad across the shoulders, +and well developed.</p> + +<p>Leonetta, as we have already seen, knew that she was attractive; but she +did not know this fact as surely and unmistakably as—say, a philosopher +looking at her did. She probably knew that she was sunburnt, for +instance; but she was not aware of the depth which the dark natural +virginal pigmentation of her neck, eyes, and knuckles, lent to the warm +tanning of her skin. She did not know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> how prone the philosopher is to +associate the combination of these two rich colourings with the wicked, +dusky denizens of a tropical jungle—those creatures whose blood he +suspects of being something deeper than red, who really look as if they +were made from the earth and were going back to it, and who have nothing +of that translucent pallor suggestive of heaven-sent and heaven-destined +attributes.</p> + +<p>She probably knew her dark eyes were fine and that their lashes were +long; but she would have been surprised and perhaps even a little hurt +if she had been told that their most striking feature was that, to every +man, modest and shrewd enough to divine all that they could exact, they +were terrifying. She knew her teeth were faultless; but she did not even +suspect the thrill of pained joy that went through the philosopher's +frame when he saw the life-hunger they revealed, and, what was more, the +full deep bite and fast hold they would take of Life's entrails. A young +girl's canines are self-revelatory in this respect. Let them be big and +prominent, as Leonetta's were, and the fastness of her hold on Life, +once she has bitten, promises to break all records. The sensitive +philosopher has little patience with your fair delicate misses with +small mouse-like canines. There are too many of them to begin with, and +they are so instinctively ladylike.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the most amusing thing in this world<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> is to watch the antics of +a large-canined virgin <i>de bonne famille</i> who is trying to be a +lady,—by "lady" is here meant someone who, among other parlour tricks, +can perform the feat of "controlling" her feelings,—who has, that is to +say, on the one hand "control" and on the other hand "feelings," and +whose feelings are weaker than her control.</p> + +<p>Leonetta's highly pigmented and sunburnt fingers suddenly ceased their +twofold activity with the box of fondants and the pocket-portfolio of +secret papers, and held a letter long and steadily before her eyes. +Again the old gentleman opposite turned to the landscape of fields on +his right, and his loose lips worked ominously. The fixity of those keen +eyes with their tell-tale slight inward squint, as she studied the +letter, proved too much for him, particularly when she began to smile; +and his glance wandered desperately to the country he was traversing, in +the cool, pallid British greenness of which he found relief.</p> + +<p>Evidently the letter was a piece of life, for Leonetta was now in deadly +earnest, pinching her beautiful tawny neck thoughtfully here and there +with her free hand, as she read, and breathing deeply. Her glance +travelled rapidly, too, over certain passages, and would then stop dead, +sometimes in order to allow a smile to dawn, sometimes to wander a +moment to frown at the country-side. Evidently certain portions of the +letter were quite uninteresting, or else she knew them by heart.</p> + +<p>The letter she read was as follows:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"My own dearest Leo,</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I miss you already! But I shan't be the <i>only</i> one! +That's <i>some</i> comfort. Think of church now without your +dreadful remarks about all the still more dreadful people. I +know one or two who are not going to church any more now. +Don't you feel ashamed of yourself? Don't you ever feel +ashamed of yourself? And the river on Wednesdays, and the +<i>park</i> on Saturday afternoons! The place will be dead. It +will be a vast waste. You told me to make up to Dorothy +Garforth. But she's not <i>you</i>. She'll never have the pluck +to talk to strange young men about their motor bikes or +their horses and things. You <i>were</i> a wonder! Still my own +dear Leo, you promised to invite me up to London to meet +your people, didn't you, and don't you dare to forget. I +shall pine away here if you do.</p> + +<p>"I must tell you something that happened last night. Well, I +met Charlie as I was coming home from saying good-bye to +you. He was desolate. You really have been a little cruel. +He said you gave him back his match-box and gold pencil, and +that that meant you did not want anything more to do with +him. He said he had been waiting behind the usual shrubbery +in the park for two hours, for a long last good-bye and that +you never turned up. I know what you mean about him, that he +isn't smart and clean and all that, but he is rather nice +all the same. Almost the best we knew. I think the hair on +his hands, as you pointed out, made up for a heap of other +shortcomings in him. But I know what you mean. He's a little +rough and there's an end of it. I thought of telling him to +write to you; but then it struck me you would not like him +to. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> said you were a flirt, and that you would only have +a rich man. I said it wasn't that a bit, that he had quite +misunderstood you. I couldn't tell him the truth, could +I?—that he wasn't altogether '<i>toothsome</i>,' as you call it. +He said he had seen us talking to that motor-cyclist fellow +in the park last Saturday, and that proved it. I said it +proved nothing, because we did not know then that he was one +of the wealthiest boys in the county. However he seemed very +bitter.</p> + +<p>"Did you really give him so much encouragement? Of course +men <i>do</i> think it a lot if you let them kiss you. Aren't +they stupid? They can't understand that even if one does not +love them overmuch one wants to know what it's like. And you +<i>did</i> like pretending you were deeply in love, didn't you +now?—all the time? I tell you who'll be glad you've gone, +Alice Dewlap. She was sweet on Charlie long before you met +him, because Kitty told me so.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Leo, you were a wicked creature, a regular godsend! +What shall we do without you! <i>Do</i> ask me to come soon. +That's cool, isn't it? Asking for an invitation. But you +know what I mean. Think of me in church next Sunday. Good +Lord deliver us! Tell me what to say to Charlie if he +bothers me about you again. And don't forget to tell me all +that happens in London. Describe all the men you meet +minutely,—you know to the smallest detail as you used to +here. You taught me to notice heaps of things I should never +have thought of.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye my dearest treasure-trove, with heaps of love and +kisses.</p></div> + +<p class="f1">"Yours for ever and ever,</p> + +<p class="f2">"Nessy."</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old gentleman lost sight of Leonetta during the lunch interval; but +when she returned from the restaurant car, slightly flushed, and her +eyelids lazily drooping, he concluded that she had probably partaken +heartily of the good fare provided, more particularly as a few stray +crumbs still clung about the corners of her lips, betraying to his +experienced eye the unconscious eagerness which healthy people +habitually show over their meals. Wisely he did not infer from these +evidences of a youthful and unimpaired appetite that she was slovenly in +her table manners, because the unmistakable gentleness of her upbringing +precluded any such possibility. The observation merely confirmed his +general impression of her, and left him pondering over the relationship +of daintiness to health.</p> + +<p>Drowsily the girl re-opened the letter which she had been perusing +before the luncheon hour, and re-read it once or twice; then dropping it +listlessly upon her lap, she turned upon her fellow-passengers a look of +such guileless interest that they might have been excused had they been +moved by that compassion, so frequently unwarranted, for innocence on +the threshold of Life's great adventure.</p> + +<p>The letter she held had been brought to her that morning by Vanessa's +maid. Leonetta and Vanessa had made friends the moment they first met, +and when Vanessa, duly qualified, had left the School of Domesticity, +about six months after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> Leonetta's arrival there, they had continued to +see each other outside its walls. There was a difference of only a year +in their ages, Vanessa being the elder; but the younger girl with her +greater keenness of vision, more exuberant health and spirits, and more +resolute unscrupulosity, had so carried the heart of the other by storm +that it was Vanessa, the provincial termagant, who looked up to and +worshipped her sister dare-devil of the Metropolis, and who watched her +for her every cue.</p> + +<p>The train was nearing London; already the coquettish veil of smoke with +which the "hub of the Universe" conceals the full horror of her ugliness +from the eyes of critics, gave the summer sky a murky yellow tinge. +Leonetta yawned, glanced across the vast city which she hoped would +hence-forward be her home, and then suddenly recollecting that her +mother and sister would probably be at King's Cross to meet her, quickly +folded the letter that was lying on her lap and relegated it to one of +the interstices of her pocket-portfolio.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>Leonetta was home again and the old house in Kensington felt the change +acutely. The stairs creaked in a manner almost indignant; doors which +for months had disported themselves with quiet dignity, manifested a +sudden and youthful tendency to slam; Palmer, the parlour-maid could +never be found, except at the heels of her youngest mistress, who seemed +to have requisitioned her entire services; while a fresh young voice, as +imperious as it was melodious, could be heard on almost every floor at +the same time, calling the stately rooms back to life again, and +shivering the cobwebs of monotony as it were by acoustic principles +alone.</p> + +<p>The expression of the kindly maiden aunt, who, after having played for +some while with a boisterous and powerful young nephew, gradually +realises that he is becoming too rough for her, is, as everybody knows, +one of tremulous expectancy, in which a half-frightened flickering smile +plays only a deceptive and scarcely convincing part in concealing the +feelings of anxiety and disapproval that lie behind it.</p> + +<p>Now there was, as we have seen, little of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> maiden aunt in Mrs. +Delarayne's disposition, and yet this is precisely the expression which, +from the moment of Leonetta's arrival at King's Cross, had fastened upon +her features. It was the look of one who, though anxious to humour a +youthful relative as far as possible, was nevertheless determined that +the young creature's pranks should not be allowed to extend to +incendiarism, personal assault and battery, homicide, or anything +equally upsetting. It scarcely requires description: the brows are +permanently slightly raised, the eyes are kept steadily upon the +youthful relative in question in mingled astonishment and fear, while +there is the aforesaid agitated smile, which threatens at any moment to +assume the hard and petulant lines of impatient reproach.</p> + +<p>Leonetta had quite properly insisted upon a completely new outfit. She +had not "unpacked" in the accepted sense. She had simply emptied her +boxes into the dust-bin. Some of her things, it is true, had fallen to +Palmer, and to Wilmott, her mother's maid, but very few of them, indeed, +had she been willing to return to her wardrobe or her chests of drawers.</p> + +<p>No one could take exception to this procedure. It was perfectly right +and proper. It was the way it was done, as if it had been a forgone and +incontrovertible conclusion, that unnerved Mrs. Delarayne, and drove +Cleopatra, more abashed than indignant, to the quietest corner of the +house for peace and solitude.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>Obviously Leonetta had as yet received no check from life, no threat of +an obstacle, or worse still a snub. Her pride pranced with an assurance, +a certainty, that was at once baffling and unbaffled. In the presence of +her sister's unbroken and unshaken will and resolute assertion of her +smallest rights, Cleopatra shrank as before the force of an elemental +upheaval. Her tottering self-confidence swayed ominously in the +neighbourhood of the younger girl, and it was with alarm and +helplessness in her eyes, that she sought a refuge where she could +breathe undisturbed.</p> + +<p>In the library she dropped desperately into a chair, and her glance ran +nervously up and down the bookshelves, while her ears listened +stealthily for echoes of the voice that was subordinating the house.</p> + +<p>She had forgotten during these blissful months how beautiful her sister +was. Some mysterious power in her, that found it easy to forget these +things, had even led her memory to form quite a moderate estimate of +Leonetta's charms in her absence,—even her sister's telling tricks with +her hair had been completely banished from her mind.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra rose and walked to the fire-place. On the mantelpiece, she +knew, there was a photograph of herself at Leonetta's age. She felt she +wanted to examine this record of her adolescence. She was groping for +strength: she wished to fortify herself.</p> + +<p>She drew the photograph towards her. No, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> had not changed so very +much. Only something inside her seemed to have grown less tense, less +self-confident. Also, she had not had Leonetta's advantages,—advantages +that she herself had been chiefly instrumental in securing for her +younger sister. More arts than that of wielding the French tongue are +learned in Paris. Apparently she never had arranged her hair quite as +Baby arranged hers.</p> + +<p>And then, all at once, the door opened, and she pushed the photograph +violently from her, so that it fell with a clatter on the marble of the +mantelpiece. It was her mother; and as the door opened and shut, the +sound of Leonetta's voice upstairs swelled and died away again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you," Cleopatra cried, setting up the fallen frame.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne walked to the window, spasmodically drew back a curtain, +and then turned to face her daughter.</p> + +<p>"She's amazingly high-spirited, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Extraordinary!" Cleopatra exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Can you go with her to Mlle. Claude's to-morrow to order those frocks? +You see, I have my Inner Light meeting in the afternoon."</p> + +<p>"She won't like it."</p> + +<p>"What does it matter? She won't listen to my suggestions, so I might +just as well stay at home as go with her. She knows exactly what she +wants down to the last button."</p> + +<p>"Then why can't she go alone?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well,—I don't know," replied Mrs. Delarayne anxiously; "she might +perhaps feel that neither of us was taking much interest in her, don't +you think?"</p> + +<p>"How much are you allowing her?"</p> + +<p>"A hundred pounds."</p> + +<p>"Edith!"</p> + +<p>"My dear,—I could say nothing!"</p> + +<p>"But I never had half that sum all at once."</p> + +<p>"I know," sighed her mother wearily. "But you can have it now, or more +if you want it."</p> + +<p>There was a loud drumming of feet, and the door opened.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peachy darling!" Leonetta cried, "you're the very person I wanted +to see, and I couldn't think what had become of you."</p> + +<p>She was brandishing a paper of the latest Paris fashions in her hand as +she skipped to her mother's side.</p> + +<p>"You see," she pursued, "this is what I want for my best evening +turn-out, I couldn't find it a moment ago." And she proceeded to +describe to her mother what the particular confection consisted of.</p> + +<p>"Of course they do these things miles better in Paris," she added with a +pout.</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said Mrs. Delarayne coldly.</p> + +<p>"And they're not a scrap more expensive either," Leonetta continued.</p> + +<p>"Possibly not," her mother rejoined. Then there was a moment's silence +while Leonetta ran rapidly through the newspaper in her hands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<p>At last Mrs. Delarayne spoke.</p> + +<p>"Leo, darling," she began, "would you mind very much if Cleo went with +you to-morrow instead of me?"</p> + +<p>Leonetta glanced up, scrutinised her mother and sister for a second, and +her brow clouded. "Oh, Peachy," she cried at last, "you are a worm!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne sat down, and fumbled nervously with a brooch at her +neck. She realised dimly that she ought to protest against being +addressed in this manner by her younger daughter and stared vacantly at +Cleopatra.</p> + +<p>"You see," she said, "I have my Inner Light meeting."</p> + +<p>"Your inner what?" Leonetta exclaimed contemptuously.</p> + +<p>A slight flush crept slowly up the widow's neck, and she looked +hopelessly in the direction of her elder daughter.</p> + +<p>Leonetta laughed. "Inner Light!" she cried. "Peachy, you are getting +into funny ways in your old age; now come, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>A look of such deep mortification came into Mrs. Delarayne's eyes, that +Cleopatra herself felt provoked.</p> + +<p>"There's no need to be rude, Baby!" she ejaculated angrily, not +realising quite how much of her anger was utterly unconnected with her +sister's treatment of their mother.</p> + +<p>Leonetta glanced down at her paper in the thoughtful manner of a buck +about to butt. For<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> the first time she had perceived clearly that much +of which she had not the smallest inkling must have happened during her +long absences from home, and that these two women,—her mother and +sister,—were united by strangely powerful bonds. Being an intelligent +creature, therefore, she decided to postpone the framing of her strategy +until she had learned more about the strength that seemed to be +constantly combining against her.</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes at last, and looked straight into her sister's face.</p> + +<p>"I can't think what makes you so dreadfully stuffy," she declared, +"surely there's no harm in what I said."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne, who longed only for one thing—that the remark +complained about, with its brutal reference to her old age, should not +be repeated, and least of all discussed,—here interposed a word or two.</p> + +<p>"No, my darling Leo, of course not. You come fresh from school; you are +full of new ideas and schemes; and we,—well, we've remained at home."</p> + +<p>This observation was perhaps a little feeble, and it also constituted a +desertion of Cleopatra, but in any case it seemed to give Leonetta the +necessary hint, for she went quite close to her mother and began +smoothing her hair. "You must tell me all about the Inner Light some +time," she said, "it sounds ripping."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>She glanced triumphantly at her sister as she spoke. Half of her action +had been completely unconscious. Obviously she felt the need of making +one of these women her friend, and instinctively she inclined to the one +who appeared to be the more powerful.</p> + +<p>"Peachy darling," she continued, "don't you think this white satin frock +that the Claude hag is going to make me might be my coming-out frock? It +will be new for the early autumn."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra gasped, and Mrs. Delarayne gave her a glance full of meaning.</p> + +<p>"You see," Leonetta pursued, "it will be the best of the lot, won't it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne drew Leonetta towards her with an affectionate gesture, +and smiled in that ingratiating manner so necessary to timidity in +distress.</p> + +<p>"But I didn't know you were to come out this autumn," she protested +lamely, not daring to look at Cleopatra, whose attitude she only too +shrewdly divined.</p> + +<p>"It's ridiculous," Cleopatra exclaimed; "I didn't come out until I was +eighteen. You know, Edith, you and father wouldn't hear of making it a +moment sooner."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but things are a little different now," Leonetta interposed.</p> + +<p>"It would be unfair, grossly unfair, Edith," Cleopatra protested, "if +you let her come out earlier than I did. Particularly as I did my best<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +to make you and father let me, and you both absolutely refused."</p> + +<p>Leonetta was now gently stroking her mother's hair. She would not trust +her eyes to look at her sister.</p> + +<p>"Well, Peachy," she said, "surely you can't make a fuss about six +months, whatever you say, Cleo. After all, I'll be seventeen and a +half."</p> + +<p>"Any way," Cleopatra snapped, "it won't be right."</p> + +<p>"But what can it matter to you?" the younger girl demanded, glaring not +too amiably at her sister.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra's face coloured a little at this question.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," she replied, and she moved towards the door. "I don't +care what you do."</p> + +<p>"Where are you going to, Cleo dear?" Mrs. Delarayne enquired in a voice +fraught with all the sympathy she could not openly express.</p> + +<p>"I'm going out to get a breath of air," replied Cleopatra without +turning her head; and she swept out of the room, performing as she went +those peculiar oscillations of the upper part of her body, which are not +unusually adopted by young women who are very much upon their dignity +when they retire. The oscillations in question consist in curving the +body sideways over small obstacles, such as chairs and tables, at the +moment of passing them, as if with an exaggerated effort to combine the +utmost care with the utmost rapidity of movement.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne rose and went sadly to the window. Her eyes, full of +self-pity, gazed with unwonted indifference at the passers-by. How +thankful she would have been to have Mr. Delarayne at her side at this +critical moment in her life. There were times when she was not +unappreciative of the many advantages of widowhood; but this was not +precisely the moment when the bright side of her peculiar situation +seemed to be conspicuous. With Leonetta home for good, and Cleo still +unmarried, she felt the need of help and advice; and it was significant +that, as she became more and more aware of the practical usefulness that +the late Mr. Delarayne might have had at this juncture, her thoughts +turned rather to Lord Henry than to Sir Joseph Bullion.</p> + +<p>She must speak to Lord Henry. He would know how to direct her.</p> + +<p>A sound in the room disturbed her meditations. Leonetta, having +concluded a further examination of the Paris fashions, had tossed the +paper on to the table.</p> + +<p>"Peachy darling," she began, with slow deliberation. "May I have a +friend to stay with me?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne continued to gaze into the street. She did not like being +called Peachy. She had an indistinct feeling that it sounded +vulgar,—why she would have been unable to explain. Nevertheless, since +anything was preferable to being called "Mother" at the top of +Leonetta's strident soprano in the public highway, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> for some reason +or other Leonetta would not make use of the name "Edith," she felt that +it would perhaps be diplomatic to say nothing.</p> + +<p>"Who is she?" she enquired cautiously.</p> + +<p>Leonetta was silent for a moment. It was not the question, but the +caution that dictated it, that struck the girl as strange.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it enough that she is a friend of mine?" she observed.</p> + +<p>"Quite, of course!" Mrs. Delarayne hastened to reply. "I only +meant,—what is her name, who are her people?"</p> + +<p>"Vanessa Vollenberg," answered Leonetta.</p> + +<p>"It sounds foreign," was the mother's quiet comment.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact, it is."</p> + +<p>"It sounds a little Jewish."</p> + +<p>"She is a Jewess," Leonetta admitted.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne purred approvingly over her remarkable display of +insight.</p> + +<p>"She's very beautiful and wonderfully clever," Leonetta pursued.</p> + +<p>"How old?"</p> + +<p>"A year older than I am,—eighteen and a half."</p> + +<p>"Jewesses are always pretty at that age," Mrs. Delarayne muttered, +glancing at her daughter furtively for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I know," Leonetta replied with unexpected warmth; "and they +fade quickly afterwards. That's what everybody says."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was clear that for some obscure reasons, she was very much attached +to Vanessa Vollenberg.</p> + +<p>"But Mrs. Vollenberg," she continued, "is the most beautiful woman in +the world. She has been painted by every great artist in Europe. So she +can't have faded much."</p> + +<p>"How long do you want Vanessa to stay?"</p> + +<p>Leonetta suggested that her friend might go to Brineweald with them for +a fortnight; Mrs. Delarayne said that it might be three weeks if she +chose, and the girl bounded towards her mother and embraced her.</p> + +<p>"Oh Peachy, my own Peachy,—that is sweet of you," she exclaimed, "you +are forgiven for not coming to the Claude hag to-morrow."</p> + +<p>One of the points in Cleopatra's nature that greatly endeared her to her +parent, was that she scarcely ever kissed, and when she did so, it was +delicately, with a respectful consideration for her mother's facial +toilet. Moreover, she never, in any circumstances, disarranged her +mother's hair.</p> + +<p>"Are they well off?" Mrs. Delarayne asked, easing a ringlet of hair +tenderly back into its position near her ear.</p> + +<p>"If you mean the Vollenbergs," Leonetta answered, "they're as rich as +you and Sir Joseph knocked into one."</p> + +<p>Her mother protested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well. He owns a whole quarter of Hull, and has a West Indian +Copra business into the bargain."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>Leonetta did not know what "copra" was, but she thought it sounded +sufficiently like a precious metal to suggest immense wealth.</p> + +<p>Later in the evening, Mrs. Delarayne and Cleopatra were alone in the +former's bedroom.</p> + +<p>"I have a feeling," Cleopatra was saying, "that I don't love Denis +sufficiently to go mad about him. You know what I mean: he may be the +best specimen of manhood who has ever crossed this threshold, but he +does not electrify me."</p> + +<p>"That's very sound," her mother rejoined with unusual emphasis. "There's +no need to be electrified by the man one marries."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I feel that one ought,—I mean that seeing that I could,—you +know,—if one is going to be something to a man, one feels that one +would like to be electrified by him."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne deposited her voluminous transformation lovingly upon the +dressing-table,—Cleo was such an intimate friend!</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" she ejaculated. "Romantic rubbish! How often have I told you +girls that provided a man can keep you in comfort and has a clean sweet +mouth, it doesn't matter a rap about anything else. Even if he has dirty +hands and finger-nails in addition, it doesn't signify;—there's the +English Channel and the Atlantic close by to wash them in. But if he +hasn't a clean, sweet mouth, a second deluge wouldn't wash it for him. +How can you attach so much importance to trifles, when in Denis you have +the two first pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>requisites in an eminent degree? You are romantic, my +dear Cleo. And matrimony is a matter of flesh and blood. When the +demands of these are properly attended to, I assure you the rest is mere +foolishness. Denis can keep you in comfort, and he has the teeth of an +African negro. What more can you want? You cannot go on losing chance +after chance through these romantic notions."</p> + +<p>"But surely," Cleo objected hopelessly, "a man ought to fire you with +something more exciting than the consideration of his means and his +dentition!"</p> + +<p>"In our class," Mrs. Delarayne rejoined with gravity, "men no longer set +fire to anything. Get that out of your mind at once. Modern English +civilisation has entirely failed to produce men who can be at once +gentlemen and fiery lovers. We have wanted things both ways, and that is +why we have failed. We have wanted nice clean-minded men with whom we +could walk, talk, and play games freely. But that means men who can +exercise self-control. Now, of course, we are certainly free to enjoy +men as safe playmates all through our youth; but we are, I'm afraid, +also free to be bored with them as husbands for the rest of our lives."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>There are many people who would have considered Mrs. Delarayne a selfish +mother. Despite the fact that no man, woman, or child has ever yet been +known to perform an unselfish action, the superstition still holds +ground, that "selfish" and "unselfish" are two different and possible +descriptions of human life and action. Believing, as we do, however, +that no intellectually honest man can any longer attach any significance +to these words, it cannot be admitted in these pages that Mrs. Delarayne +was selfish. Neither was she at all conscious of any evil impulses when, +standing at the dining-room window on her "Inner Light" afternoon, she +watched her two children leave the house on their way to the "Claude +hag," as Leonetta called the lady. On the contrary, she felt wonderfully +free, exceptionally happy, profoundly relieved. The big house was +silent. She was alone. She even had to suppress the half-formed longing +that it might always be so.</p> + +<p>She knew that Cleopatra felt no deep sympathy with any part of the +"Inner Light" doctrine, and she was convinced, before enquiring, that +Leonetta would sympathise with it even less. Al<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>though, therefore, she +expected a number of young men that afternoon,—Lord Henry, St. Maur, +and Malster, among them,—who might have interested her daughters, she +was not in the least conscious of having acted with deliberate hostility +in arranging so neatly that they should be out of the house when these +gentlemen came.</p> + +<p>To explain precisely what the "Inner Light" meetings meant to Mrs. +Delarayne would entail such a long discussion of the relation of women's +religiosity in general to sex and to self-deception, that it would +require almost the compass of another independent treatise to deal with +it adequately.</p> + +<p>In a word Mrs. Delarayne suffered, as a large number of modern women +suffer, from receiving no sure and reliable guidance from men. As a +widow this was, of course, incidental to her position; but she knew well +enough that there were thousands who still had their husbands, who were +no better off than she was. In addition to this, she had succumbed to +the influence of that absurd belief, so prevalent in cultivated circles, +that typical modern thought is superior to Christianity.</p> + +<p>She felt the ease and peace of mind that resulted from having a belief +of some sort; but she would have regarded it as a surrender of principle +to return to Christianity; and, far from suspecting that most modern +thought, as manifested in the doctrine of the "Inner Light," for +instance, or Theosophy, or Christian Science, is inferior to +Christian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>ity, she had become a member of the Inner Light, and paid its +heavy entrance fee of fifty guineas, with a feeling of deep pride and +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>The doctrine of the Inner Light was an importation from America. It had +been introduced into England by a very intelligent, very tall, but very +delicate looking Virginian lady, about fifteen years before this story +opens. It had not spread very much, it is true,—its total number of +members in Great Britain amounted only to two thousand five hundred; but +it was all the more select on that account, and it was guaranteed by its +founders and by all who belonged to it, to be entirely free from those +"regrettable remnants of superstition which so very much marred the +beauty of the older religions."</p> + +<p>It professed to recognise only one purifying and creative agent in life, +and that was Light. "The world was all darkness and death," said the +first prophet of the "Inner Light,"—an American named Adolf +Albernspiel, who had died worth half a million dollars,—"and then Light +appeared, and with it Life and the great lucid Powers: Thought, Spirit, +Order."</p> + +<p>It was so obviously superior to Christianity, it commended itself so +cogently to the meanest intelligence, that the members of the "Inner +Light," try how they might to exercise the tolerance which is universal +to-day, could hardly refrain from a mild consciousness of superiority +when they looked down upon other creeds.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thus the priests of the Order were not called "Fathers" or "Brethren," +which implied a false anthropomorphic relationship to a supreme parent +"God"; they were simply "Incandescents":—Incandescent Bernard, +Incandescent Margaret, Incandescent Mansel, and so on. Again, in +allowing women to officiate at the altar of the Supreme Incandescence, +the doctrine of the Inner Light rose superior to Christianity. "Owing to +Judaic tradition and influence," as his Incandescence Albernspiel had +truly pointed out, "the Christian Church had never enjoyed the eminent +advantage of women's ministration. Even the Greeks had been wiser than +this. And thus much of an essential character in all true religion had +always been absent from Christianity, owing to this proscription of +feminine influence." (<i>The Doctrine of the Inner Light</i>, Vol. II., p. +1303.)</p> + +<p>There was only one Temple in England, at which all the faithful met once +a year, and that was at Liverpool. It was hoped that other churches +would be built sooner or later in other big centres, but +meanwhile,—that is to say, pending the collecting of the necessary +building fund,—all the faithful outside Liverpool were recommended to +meet once a month at each other's houses, where one of the Incandescents +would hold a service.</p> + +<p>The Incandescent for London was a pale and feverish looking little man, +Gerald Tribe by name, with false teeth and large, bony red hands, who +lived as a sort of non-paying guest at the house of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> Miss Mallowcoid, +Mrs. Delarayne's elder sister, at Hampstead. It was a perfectly orderly +arrangement, because, apart from the fact that he had his young wife +with him, he was in any case such a learned and pure-minded young man, +that, as Miss Mallowcoid declared, even if he had not been married, she +would have regarded it as a privilege to live under the same roof with +him. She admitted, of course, that his wife was so far beneath him as to +present an almost insufferable objection to the arrangement; but Miss +Mallowcoid regarded this creature as the trial and chastisement sent by +the supreme Incandescence, to bring both her own and Gerald Tribe's +inner light to ever greater prodigies of brilliance and power.</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid, who had been responsible for her sister, Mrs. +Delarayne's conversion to the Inner Light, was expected that afternoon, +as were also Sir Joseph Bullion, and all the London faithful. Lord Henry +had also reluctantly agreed to attend this one meeting after months of +persuasion from Mrs. Delarayne.</p> + +<p>If Mrs. Delarayne had been asked why she had joined the cult of the +Inner Light, she would have probably replied that it was a simple +doctrine. Light was the beginning, Light would be the end. Life on earth +was simply the struggle of Light against Darkness. When you died, you +became one with the Eternal Incandescence. Age, old age,—and this was +the part that chiefly attracted Mrs. Delarayne,—<i>was simply the fatigue +incurred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> by battling with darkness</i>. When Light prevailed, as it would +in the other world, Age would pass away, <i>and everybody would remain +eternally youthful</i>.</p> + +<p>Thus, far from feeling selfish or unselfish, Mrs. Delarayne was +conscious only of a sensation of supreme elation, as she watched her +daughters leave the house on that afternoon in July. She was even able +to contemplate their unusual beauty, which would have made them a credit +to any family, with unmixed feelings of pride as they walked down the +square, and she smiled as she noticed the eagerness with which Leonetta +strode ahead, just about half a pace in front of her sister. When she +turned away from the window, therefore, and once again surveyed the +large stately dining-room, with its row upon row of chairs all ready for +the meeting, she was conscious only of feeling supremely happy and above +all secure.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry was to come at last. For months, in fact ever since her first +initiation into the Order, she had implored him to attend a meeting, and +now that her will had prevailed she felt confident that once he saw with +his own eyes the large number of distinguished people gathered that day +under her roof—all followers and devotees of the Inner Light,—he would +be forced to acknowledge that there was a good deal in it.</p> + +<p>Among the first arrivals was Sir Lionel Borridge, the inventor of the +most up-to-date calculating machine, and a mathematician of renown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> He +had a conical brow like a beautifully polished knee, and very sad eyes +which seemed to proclaim to the world that the study of mathematics was, +on the whole, a most harrowing occupation. With him came his aged wife +and spinster daughter. Both appeared to be over fifty, and, like the +head of their household, also deeply depressed by mathematics. These +three, looking so learned, looking so miserable with learning, were +surely the best evidence that could be advanced in support of the truth +of the Inner Light; for they were all convinced adherents of the Order. +Sir Joseph arrived punctually at three, the hour appointed for the +meeting. With him came Malster, and one of the junior secretaries of +Bullion Ltd., a certain Guy Tyrrell. Lord Henry and St. Maur came a +minute after time, and were followed by a phalanx of ladies of uncertain +age, with their Poms, their Pekinese, their Yorkshire and their toy +terriers.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne's dining-room was filling rapidly. A buzz of +conversation, accompanied by the shuffling of the latest arrivals' feet, +began to pervade the large room, and necks were craned in tense +expectation of celebrities.</p> + +<p>The philocanine Palmer was entrusted with the care of the legion of lap +dogs out in the garden,—for the religious meeting could not admit even +the most docile pet animal; and the sound of their spiteful yappings +could be heard through the open windows at the back of the room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You know, my dear," said Lady Muriel Bellington, who had brought her +Mexican hairless, "of course he is very, very naughty. And it's very +tiresome. But they are so minute, one couldn't beat them. It would be +really too too!"</p> + +<p>Lady fflote, already purple with the heat, went almost black at the +suggestion of beating the Mexican hairless.</p> + +<p>"Beat them!" she ejaculated. "Oh that would be very wrong. Oh no, you +couldn't bully them. Better far let them tyrannise over you. I should +never forgive myself."</p> + +<p>In another part of the room Sir Lionel Borridge was leaning across Mrs. +Gerald Tribe, the delicate and emaciated wife of the Incandescent Gerald +Tribe, to address a word to Miss Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>"I think it possible, you know," he said very gravely, and looking the +image of the most unconquerable woe, "that I may be able to give our +minister certain mathematical facts, which I feel convinced are all in +support of the doctrine of the Inner Light. I was working at them with +my daughter last night,—the results are simply astounding—astounding, +that's the only word."</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid ejaculated, "Really! Really!" in a hushed, awed voice, +and then quickly proceeded to communicate the thrilling intelligence to +her right hand neighbour, who marvelled as reverently and as inaudibly +as she had done.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph, feeling a little bewildered, was ask<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>ing Guy Tyrrell a +string of questions which this young man was quite unqualified to +answer, and both looked and felt extremely uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry, who was seated in the second row from the front, between +Denis Malster and St. Maur, glanced round at the crowd behind him, and +frowned darkly.</p> + +<p>"I think, you know, Lord Henry," said Denis Malster, noticing the young +nobleman's expression of angry scorn, "you do not allow sufficiently for +the fact that all of us have a subconscious inkling of the supernatural +behind phenomena, and these attempts on the part of the followers of the +Inner Light, of the Theosophists, or the Spiritualists, to realise the +nature of this supernatural basis to the material and visible world, are +all proofs of this subconscious inkling."</p> + +<p>"I don't think," Lord Henry replied, "that you are sufficiently inclined +to allow for the fundamental fact, that mankind is very, very slow in +dropping an old habit. We are now, thank goodness, witnessing the slow +death agony of Christianity. These people here are among those who plume +themselves on having abandoned Christian dogma. But deep down in their +natures, there is not the inkling of the supernatural of which you +speak, but simply the religious habit,—the habit of believing in +something vague and indemonstrable, the habit of services and +congregational worship. And while they are dropping away from the old +Church in all directions, they simultaneously,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> from sheer habit, create +new-fangled creeds very much more absurd than anything the Church ever +taught, and not nearly so beautiful."</p> + +<p>At this moment a hush suddenly fell upon the whole company, and Mrs. +Delarayne, who by virtue of her rôle as hostess, was officiating as +assistant to the Incandescent Gerald that afternoon, entered the room by +a small door at the back, followed by the minister.</p> + +<p>Everyone stood up, and Lord Henry noticed that the venerable bald head +of Sir Lionel Borridge was bowed in humble reverence.</p> + +<p>The service lasted about three quarters of an hour; even Sir Joseph +Bullion, who, as the latest of the elect, was the new broom of the +afternoon, was seen to gape once during the course of it; and when it +was over and a sort of blessing had been pronounced by the minister, the +whole company filed out of the dining-room into the library for +refreshment and also for the discussion of the meeting.</p> + +<p>Everyone seemed intent upon reaching Mrs. Delarayne, and among those who +struggled most to achieve this end was Sir Joseph Bullion. +Congratulations were being pronounced on all sides. "How well she had +read the Articles of Faith!" "How clearly she had announced the hymns!" +"How cool and collected she was, and yet how reverent!"</p> + +<p>Gradually the throng pressed less thickly about her, and Sir Joseph +reached his idol.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wonderful, Edith,—wonderful!" he whispered. "And what a beautiful +impressive service!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne grasped his hand, and even nodded, but her eyes were busy +elsewhere. She was watching the movements of Lord Henry, who had not yet +spoken to her, and who, apparently in animated conversation with Sir +Lionel Borridge, had hitherto held himself aloof.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't remember, of course," Sir Joseph pursued, "the arrival of +Baroness Puckha Bilj in London in the late eighties, with her doctrine +of 'Self-Exteriorisation.' The Inner Light reminds me somewhat of that. +We were her bankers. She was most successful."</p> + +<p>"Your husband surpassed himself, Mrs. Tribe," said Denis Malster to the +emaciated wife of the Incandescent Gerald. Denis felt extremely superior +behind his solid Anglican Protestant entrenchments, and thought that he +could afford to be generous and even patronising to the members of a +struggling creed.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Baroness Puckha Bilj had not your advantages," continued the +undaunted Sir Joseph. "She was already advanced in years when she left +Hungary."</p> + +<p>"Have some cake?" said Mrs. Delarayne.</p> + +<p>"I admit," Lord Henry was saying, "that a new religion is perhaps the +most urgent need of modern times; but then this Age is scarcely great +enough to make it."</p> + +<p>"Come, come!" exclaimed Sir Lionel gruffly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> his melancholy eyes closing +heavily as he spoke, "you are a little hard surely. Is not this your +first attendance here? I don't seem to remember having seen you amongst +us before."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry apologised and turned away. He had noticed his hostess's eye +upon him, and he hastened towards her.</p> + +<p>"Sir Lionel's conversation seems to have been singularly engrossing," +remarked Mrs. Delarayne as he approached.</p> + +<p>"It always amazes me," declared the young nobleman with laughter in his +eyes, "how the men of the so-called 'exact sciences' become involved in +our new emergency substitutes for a great Faith."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne purred with a slightly treble note of dissent.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Sir Joseph demanded.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is the refuge of the mind that deals only with precise and +exact terms and rules, to plunge into the opposite extreme,—into blue +mistiness for instance. Or is it perhaps the fact that mathematicians +and physicists deal very largely with symbols, with abstractions as +opposed to realities, and that they therefore easily fall a prey to this +sort of thing?"</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph shrugged his shoulders and tried hard to look wise.</p> + +<p>"The worst of it is," Lord Henry pursued, "the adherence of a man like +Borridge, makes lesser men imagine that the creed to which he lends his +support, must have something in it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne contented herself with pouting, and casting a glance full +of distress signals at Sir Joseph.</p> + +<p>But Sir Joseph appeared not to notice, and taking unnecessarily large +bites at a piece of cake he held, was evidently hoping to convey the +impression that a sudden and inconvenient access of appetite prevented +his opposing Lord Henry as violently as he might otherwise have done on +the subject of the Inner Light.</p> + +<p>The occupants of the room were beginning to revolve in that purposeful +manner which augurs of leave-taking. People came up to shake hands with +their hostess, and gradually the library emptied. Only Denis Malster, +St. Maur, Sir Joseph, and Lord Henry remained.</p> + +<p>Their hostess fidgeted uneasily. She wished to be alone with Lord Henry. +Gradually the others understood, and ultimately took their leave.</p> + +<p>"Now quickly, explain to me," Lord Henry began severely, "why you have +anything to do with this arrant nonsense. Surely it would be more +dignified, more sensible to be a Christian again, than to lend your +support to this inferior modern bunkum?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne, with her elbow on the mantelpiece and her chin in her +hand, stood sulking and was mute.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens! The Inner Light!" He strode towards her. "Promise me +you'll give it up," he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>That was her position. What for? What did he propose to offer in +compensation? His protection? His devotion? His love? Then the sacrifice +might be worth while. She bowed her head and smiled icily. She adored +this young man. This was the last weapon she believed she could still +wield against him. She was aware, perhaps, that the Inner Light was all +nonsense. The fact that he said it was made it abundantly probable to +her. But was it possible that the Inner Light might afford her a means +of bringing their relationship to its desired conclusion?</p> + +<p>"A supremely intelligent woman like you," Lord Henry continued, +"—really! And the Incandescent Gerald! And hymn number 27——!"</p> + +<p>"You may scoff," said the poor lady, feeling uncommonly hot, "but it all +means something to me."</p> + +<p>"That is not true!" Lord Henry exclaimed. "You know it's not true. Oh, +and Lady fflote, and Lady Muriel. And Adolf Albernspiel—God!"</p> + +<p>"Are you still determined to go to China?" Mrs. Delarayne demanded, her +voice faltering a little.</p> + +<p>"As firmly as ever."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't let us quarrel then," she said. "The time is short enough."</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry," she began hesitatingly, as she pulled a marguerite to +pieces over the fender.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> "I asked you to stay for a few minutes because +I wanted to consult you on a very delicate matter."</p> + +<p>He sat down facing her, and began to tug at the mesh over his brow. He +frowned and blinked rapidly, as was his wont when interested. He +wondered whether this charming and unhappy creature realised how +thoroughly he understood her.</p> + +<p>"You know Leonetta is home again," Mrs. Delarayne continued.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry nodded.</p> + +<p>"She is rather difficult to manage."</p> + +<p>He nodded again.</p> + +<p>"She is so full of life, so eager, so—well, can you imagine me at +seventeen? Can you picture the mercurial creature I was, with every +sense agog, with every nerve on the <i>qui vive</i>?—a dreadful little +person in every way."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry chuckled, and gave his forelock one or two unusually rapid +twists.</p> + +<p>"Leonetta is if anything worse than I was," Mrs. Delarayne continued, +"for she is of this century. I belonged to the last one. D'you +understand?"</p> + +<p>He bowed.</p> + +<p>"She is vitality incarnate,—wilful, womanly, vain, beautiful,—not more +beautiful than Cleopatra, but more intrepid, more inquisitive, more +determined to live than her elder sister."</p> + +<p>"Have you a photograph of her?" Lord Henry enquired.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne darted across the room, and returned with a large framed +photograph which she handed to her visitor.</p> + +<p>"There's the latest. It was taken a month ago."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry examined it closely.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, with his customary gravity in dealing with interesting +questions. "I see. I see now. Well?"</p> + +<p>"Can you see the girl she is? Daring,—oh, and can I say it?"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry looked up and blinked rapidly again.</p> + +<p>"A little—a little——"</p> + +<p>"A little inclined to temperamental precocity?" Lord Henry enquired.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne, very much relieved, nodded quickly.</p> + +<p>"That's exactly it,—that's just what I meant to say,—that's it +precisely. Oh how accurately that describes her!"</p> + +<p>The elegant widow was uncommonly agitated and anxious. Lord Henry noted +her state of mind, and wondered what it signified.</p> + +<p>"I feel—people tell me,—I feel I ought perhaps to tell Leonetta——"</p> + +<p>"You are wondering," Lord Henry interrupted, hoping to help her, +"whether it is your duty to enlighten the child at all concerning——"</p> + +<p>She sat down beside him. "Yes, I am," she said quickly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Has she asked any questions?" Lord Henry demanded, allowing his hand +for a moment to hang motionless from his mesh of hair and glancing up at +the cornice.</p> + +<p>"No, I scarcely expect that," Mrs. Delarayne replied. "But in case. You +see Cleopatra was so different. I never had any difficulty with her. Her +reserve was always so rigid, I would have trusted her as a <i>cantinière</i> +in a barracks of Zouaves. I never spoke a word about anything to +Cleopatra. But Leonetta!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see. You think Leonetta different?"</p> + +<p>"What ought I to do? Do help me! Some say this and some say that. Some +say that a mother should speak; some say that they never did, and they +don't see why I should. My sister, Miss Mallowcoid, you know, says I +ought to."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry gave vent to an expletive of contempt.</p> + +<p>"I'll do what you say;—only what you say," said the harassed matron, +resting a hand on his.</p> + +<p>"You should begin, my dear lady," Lord Henry replied, "by utterly +distrusting all the nonsense the modern world says on this subject."</p> + +<p>"But I do,—I don't! I mean, I pay no heed to what anybody says but +you."</p> + +<p>A shadow from the Inner Light passed across Lord Henry's mind; but that, +he rightly imagined, was the widow's last little fortress against him.</p> + +<p>"The bond that unites parent to child is a very precious one," Lord +Henry continued. "It is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> however, as brittle as it is precious. A +trifle will snap it. Now there is one aspect of the relationship between +parent and child, the physical aspect, the physical relation, which lies +beneath a sort of sacred seal: it is deliberately never fully realised; +it does not require to be fully realised, particularly by the child——"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne nodded quickly and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Think of the havoc you may create, through yourself breaking this seal +by calling this delicate aspect into prominence, by discussing with your +child all those matters which, as between you and her, by virtue of your +relationship, are a closed book!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see, I see," cried the widow quickly. "My feelings, my +instincts, were always against it from the very start, and I see now +that I was right."</p> + +<p>"The modern world is immensely stupid; few of us know how immensely +stupid it is. Everything that modern thought expresses, on this subject, +particularly, you must feel sure therefore is utterly and radically +absurd. You cannot afford to weaken the precious bond that unites you to +your children; therefore do not attempt this business."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see. Yes, you are right. I feel you are right."</p> + +<p>"It can only lead to the most acute embarrassment as between parent and +child,—however well it is done;—and you would do it admirably, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +know. Unfortunately, when one is embarrassed one is not at one's best +for understanding. Consequently the whole proceeding, besides being +dangerous, would be utterly futile."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne pressed his hand. "It is at times like these," she burst +out a little tearfully, "that I think of you going to China, and all +that."</p> + +<p>He rose.</p> + +<p>"One minute," she said, turning eyes glistening with tears pleadingly +upon him. "You have not told me what to do."</p> + +<p>"The natural and proper thing," he replied, "is to keep her well in hand +and then to trust her to her husband. The good husband is the best +hierophant."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand," said Mrs. Delarayne rising also.</p> + +<p>"They master these things better on the Continent than we do in +England," Lord Henry continued. "The young girl is carefully supervised, +scrupulously watched, and a good husband is entrusted with the rest. +That is by far the best."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Mrs. Delarayne exclaimed, laughing in her old way for the first +time that afternoon, "but then, you see, they happen to have the +Continental husband to whom they can entrust the matter."</p> + +<p>"True," Lord Henry replied. "Never mind. We must try to find her someone +who is as like a Continental husband as possible."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>"St. Maur is a most fascinating boy," Mrs. Delarayne observed.</p> + +<p>"Ah—hands off Aubrey, at least for the present. He's not ripe yet," +said Lord Henry; and in a moment he was gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>A day or two later,—that is to say on the Saturday before Sir Joseph's +evening At Home in honour of Leonetta's homecoming,—Mrs. Delarayne +herself gave a dinner party, to which a few of her more intimate friends +were invited. Sir Joseph, of course, was among the guests, as were also +Denis and Guy Tyrrell. For some reason, into which she made no effort to +enquire, however, Mrs. Delarayne did not ask Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of the day in question, Leonetta, after her tea, +ensconced herself in the library and wrote the following letter to her +friend, Vanessa Vollenberg:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"My Sweetheart,</p> + +<p>"It is Saturday and we are having a dinner party this +evening, and I'm feeling awfully excited. Things are +particularly slow here on the whole. I have scarcely spoken +to a man since I addressed my porter at King's Cross four +days ago. Isn't it rank? What mother and my sister Cleo do +with their men I can't imagine, unless they think they are +better out of harm's way. I know they know heaps of men.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By the way, talking of keeping out of harm's way, you +remember you used to tell me at school that if I looked long +enough at a young man with my dark eyes he would get +sunburnt,—well, the day before yesterday a very funny thing +happened. I was in the train with poor old Cleo (she's grown +a most appalling old maid, by-the-bye), and there was a +young man opposite who really looked a most awful devil. You +know, he had those wicked eyes that go up at their outside +corners like tigers'. He was heavenly. I simply couldn't +take my eyes off him, and he kept looking at me. Cleo said +very stuffily (she's always stuffy with me), 'Don't stare!' +and he must have overheard, because he turned away, and +there was a most devilish curl on his lips. If we hadn't got +out at the next station, I'm sure we should have ended by +smiling at each other quite openly. You know, he was one of +the sort who one guesses has got good teeth before they even +open their mouths.</p> + +<p>"Some men are coming this evening, thank God! But what +they'll be like Heaven alone knows! I have hopes though, +because mother always did have a sweet tooth for rather nice +men, you see father was tremendously attractive. But what +poor Auntie Cleo's choice will be I daren't think. One of +the men is supposed to be earmarked for her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, and now listen. Peachy—that's my mother—insists upon +your coming to our place at Brineweald for at least three +weeks during the summer holidays. Oh, Nessy, my heart's +love!—what a joy to see you again! So you will come, won't +you? I told Peachy you could play a good game of tennis, and +now she insists on your coming. So mind, no refusal. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +must tell your dear mother she simply must spare you, and +there's an end of it.</p> + +<p>"Thank you a billion trillion times for your absolutely +divine letter. But I cannot write about all you say, I'm too +excited as it is. When can you come? Then we can talk. Oh +for another long talk with my wise and wicked Nessy.</p> + +<p>"Now listen! We leave for Brineweald in about ten days. Can +you join us in about a fortnight from now? We might have +gone at once, but I must have some clothes. And it seems to +me that it will take all my time to get them before we +start.</p> + +<p>"Oh, and now another thing (and this is very, <i>very</i> secret, +so secret that you must <i>swear</i> you'll tear up this letter +<i>at once</i>, the moment you have read it). You remember you +and the other girls used to laugh at me at school about my +brown neck and my brown eyelids, and my brownish knuckles. +You used to chaff me and tell me it was because I hadn't +washed. Well, you were all wrong, and I told you at the time +you were all wrong. I have just been reading a most +interesting book, all about these things (but you must never +let Peachy know about it, as it is one of father's and I +have been reading it on the sly). Remember you've sworn to +tear this letter up. In any case it explains all about my +brown neck and my brown eyelids and knuckles. It calls it +'Pigmentation'—the '<i>pigmentation of the mature virgin</i>.' +Isn't it interesting? So you see it was quite natural; and I +can't help it; on the contrary it shows I am very vigorous. +So you were all wrong—even Miss Butterworth who said I was +afraid of cold water.</p> + +<p>"But I'll forgive everything to my sweet Nessy if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> only, <i>if +only</i> she will come to the bosom of her love at Brineweald.</p></div> + +<p class="f3">"With crates of kisses,</p> + +<p class="f1">"Yours ever,</p> + +<p class="f4">"<span class="smcap">Leo</span>."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"P.S. Excuse this short scribble. I must go to dress. Tell +Charlie that if he has not kissed that horrid Dewlap girl +yet, I send him a nice long kiss. By-the-bye, he's such a +blind fool, he won't have noticed she bites her nails. <i>Do</i> +tell him!</p></div> + +<p class="f4">"Yours <span class="smcap">Leo</span>."</p> + +<p>This letter written, sealed, and stamped, Leonetta put on a +tam-o'-shanter, and ran to the post with it; whereupon hurrying +upstairs, she burst violently into her mother's bedroom, to announce +what she had done. It was half-past six and her mother was dressing.</p> + +<p>Now Mrs. Delarayne's toilet, as may be imagined, was an unusually +elaborate and skilful business. Every corner of her large bedroom seemed +to offer its contribution towards the final effect. The bed, the chairs, +and even the mantelpiece participated in the process, while cupboard and +wardrobe doors stood ominously open.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne's maid Wilmott,—silent, grave, preoccupied and +efficient,—moved hither and thither, calmly but quickly, her head +discreetly bowed, her voice more subdued than at ordinary times, as if +she were officiating at a rite; and gradually, very gradually, the +business proceeded.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> + +<p>Facing a corner of the bedroom, with a large window to her left, Mrs. +Delarayne sat before her dressing-table, upon which, towering above the +forest of bottles, brushes, boxes, and other paraphernalia, stood a +large triple mirror, which enabled the elegant widow to get three +different aspects of her handsome face at the same time.</p> + +<p>The expression upon Mrs. Delarayne's face when she peered into this +formidable reflector of her own image was scarcely self-complacent or +serene. It was rather studious, anxious, critical, almost fierce, like +that one would expect to find on the face of an ancient alchemist +contemplating an alembic of precious compounds. Year in, year out, ever +since her gradually waning youth had begun to add ever fresh +complications to her once rapid and easy toilet, Mrs. Delarayne had +faced herself with this determined and defiant expression on her +features, resolved to overcome every difficulty and every undesirable +innovation of time. Slowly the complex equipment had grown up. Now it +was so extensive, that it required all the dexterity and knowledge that +habit alone can impart, in order to master and understand its +multitudinous intricacies.</p> + +<p>In this mirror, then, when her expression was at its fiercest in +intentness and concentration, she saw her daughter enter the room behind +her, and for an instant a spasmodic frown darkened her already lowering +brow.</p> + +<p>"I cannot see you now, you know that, Leo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> darling," she hastened to +exclaim as sweetly as possible, while her daughter was still on the +threshold.</p> + +<p>"All right, Peachy,—I shan't keep you a moment."</p> + +<p>A slight flush crept up the mother's neck just below her ears,—this was +a thing Cleo had too much delicacy to do. Cleo never disturbed her while +she was dressing,—and she straightway stopped all operations and laid +her hands resignedly in her lap.</p> + +<p>"Well, be quick," she said, with ill-concealed irritation. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>In the glass she could see her daughter's quick and intelligent eyes +wandering all about her with the deepest interest, and resting here and +there as if more than usually absorbed, and she frowned again.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Leonetta, who had not seen her mother's bedroom, particularly +the dressing-table, at such a busy crisis for many years, and who, when +she had seen it in the past had been too young to grasp its full +meaning, was too eagerly engaged scanning its imposing array of creams, +scents, powders, oils, salves, cosmetics, tresses of hair, and other +"aids," to be able to remember what she had come for, and simply stood +there like one fascinated and spellbound.</p> + +<p>"Quick, child! can't you see you're wasting my time?" her mother +ejaculated irascibly. "Besides, you've got to get dressed too!"</p> + +<p>This was an unfortunate remark. It brought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> out more vividly than was +necessary, the immense contrast between her own and her daughter's +toilet, and before she had time to think, Leonetta had replied.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've got heaps of time. It doesn't take me a moment. I'll race you +easily, even now."</p> + +<p>Then a thought entered Leonetta's mind, which, to her credit be it said, +she resisted at first, but which was too overpowering to be completely +banished. It struck her for a moment that there was something faintly +comical, almost pathetically ridiculous, in this elderly matron taking +such laborious and elaborate pains to make herself attractive. Try as +she might, Leonetta, from her angle of vision of seventeen years, could +not repress the question: "What was it all for? What was the good of it +all? Who could possibly care? Was the end commensurate with the +exhaustive and exhausting means?" As the fierce light from the window +beat down upon her mother's face, it seemed so old, so wondrously old, +that all the formidable machinery of beautification about the room +struck a chord of compassion in the flapper's breast, which was, +however, at once compounded with humour in her mind. And then she could +control herself no longer, and was forced to smile,—one of those broad +mirthful smiles that are parlously near a laugh. Feeling, however, that +her mood was one of derision, she turned quickly aside,—but not soon +enough successfully to evade her mother's observant scrutiny.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne was too well aware of the awkward possibilities of the +situation, and moreover too acutely sensitive generally, to be in any +doubt as to the meaning of her younger daughter's amusement, and the +flush beneath her ears spread to her cheeks. Simultaneously, however, +her handsome face seemed suddenly to grow wonderfully stern and +composed, and her eyes flashed with the fire which every woman seems to +hold in reserve for an anti-feminine attack.</p> + +<p>"Wilmott," she said quietly, "will you leave the room a moment? I'll +ring when I want you."</p> + +<p>Without even turning round to satisfy her curiosity, the well-trained +servant dropped on to the corner of the bed the things she held in her +hands, and was gone.</p> + +<p>For some unaccountable reason Leonetta at the same time felt a tremor of +apprehension pass slowly over her, and her hands grew icily cold. She +could feel her mother's masterful will in the atmosphere of the room, +and glancing tremulously askance at the widow's unfinished coiffure, +every line of which seemed crisp with power, walked over to the +hearth-rug.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne's redness had now vanished. She was if anything a little +pale, and she turned to face her daughter.</p> + +<p>"I am not angry, Leo," she began with terrifying suavity, "but I felt I +really could not explain all these things to you,"—she waved a hand +over the mass of articles displayed on the dressing-table,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>— "in front +of Wilmott. You see, servants have to take these things for granted +without explanation."</p> + +<p>Leonetta felt her ears beginning to burn furiously. Her mother could be +terrible.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you see now," continued the widow, "how worrying and how difficult +are the means which I have to use to make myself presentable. Age is a +tiresome thing, is it not? It is so much more simple when one is young."</p> + +<p>The invincible "Warrior" smiled kindly, and saw that tears were +gathering in her daughter's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Would you perhaps like me to go through these things with you, and +explain them to you one by one?" she continued. "I have had to learn it +all myself. I might save you a good many pitfalls in the remote future."</p> + +<p>Leonetta's throat was dry, and her lips were parched.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," she replied hoarsely, and she made quickly towards the +door.</p> + +<p>"You have not told me what you wanted to say," said her mother +playfully.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you later on," rejoined the girl in broken tones.</p> + +<p>"Then will you please ring for Wilmott?" said Mrs. Delarayne, turning +calmly to face her mirror again.</p> + +<p>And after savagely pressing the bell, the flapper vanished.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + +<p>With her eyes blinded by stinging tears, and feeling very much more +maddened by regret than by mortification, Leonetta fled to her room. She +was not only staggered, she was also thoroughly ashamed. A boy suddenly +butted by a lamb, which he had believed he might torment with impunity, +could not have felt more astonished. A convert brought face to face with +the livid wounds which, in her days of unbelief, she had inflicted upon +a Christian martyr could not have felt more deeply dejected and +penitent. Like a flash, an old emotion of childhood had filled her +breast; an old emotion that seemed only to have gathered strength in the +intervening years,—that blind, unthinking and dependent love of the +infant for its mother.</p> + +<p>Should she go back and throw herself at the wonderful woman's knees? +Should she set out her plea for forgiveness in the folds of her mother's +dress as she had done as a baby? No, Wilmott would be there,—Wilmott +and everything besides! Moreover,—she looked in the glass,—her face +was distraught, her ears flared, her eyes still smarted horribly. Even +if Wilmott were dismissed as before, the girl would guess something.</p> + +<p>Slowly she proceeded with her dressing, and, as she did so, a certain +vague delicacy of feeling, a sort of secret reverence for her brave +youth-loving mother downstairs, kept her from glancing too frequently in +the glass. The contrast now, instead of elating her, simply accentuated +her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> reminiscence of guilt. The very speed with which she adjusted her +hair and made it "presentable," as her mother had expressed it, brought +back the cruel memory of what had happened only a few minutes +previously.</p> + +<p>In being thus affected by Mrs. Delarayne's able and perfectly relentless +handling of a difficult situation; in feeling her love for her mother +intensified backwards, so to speak, to the degree it had attained in +infancy, as the result of the incident, Leonetta showed not only that +she was worthy of her incomparable mother, but also that she had +survived less unimpaired, than some might have thought, the questionable +blessings of a finishing education.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne who, without being truculently triumphant, was +nevertheless mildly conscious of having scored a valuable and highly +desirable point, repaired to the drawing-room twenty minutes later in a +mood admirably suited to giving her guests a warm and hearty welcome.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra was the first to join her. Each woman honestly thought that +she had rarely seen the other look quite so beautiful, and the comments +that were exchanged were as sincere as they were flattering.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne was too loyal to betray one sister to the other, so she +did not refer to the incident in her bedroom. Occasionally, however, +thoughts of it would make her glance a little anxiously in the direction +of the door, and as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> did so, she fervently hoped that the lesson she +had administered to her younger daughter had not been too severe.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what Baby can be doing all this time!" Cleopatra exclaimed at +last.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and see, I think," said Mrs. Delarayne, lifting her dress just +slightly in front, and making towards the door.</p> + +<p>"No, Edith," her daughter exclaimed, rising quickly. "I'll go. I cannot +have you making yourself hot by climbing all those stairs. Please let me +go!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne's wiry arm braced itself as her hand clasped the handle +of the door. "I think I'd better go," she replied.</p> + +<p>For the first time Cleopatra began to suspect that something had +happened. She knew the relations existing between Leonetta and her +mother, but as the latter had always been so surprisingly patient and +long-suffering, she was very far from suspecting what had actually +occurred.</p> + +<p>Their hesitation was cut short for them by the arrival of the first +guest, Sir Joseph Bullion, who, a moment later, was followed by Denis +Malster, Guy Tyrrell, Agatha Fearwell and her brother Stephen (friends +of Cleopatra's), and Miss Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>The last to enter the drawing-room was Leonetta. She had evidently +dreaded encountering her mother and sister alone, and she had purposely +waited till she heard the guests arrive before com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>ing down. Although to +those who knew her there were certain unusual signs of demurity in her +expression and demeanour in the early part of the evening, she presented +a dramatically beautiful appearance, and the sober reserve of her mood +if anything enhanced this effect, by lending it the additional charm of +mystery and inscrutableness.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra was a little puzzled. Never had she expected that Leo would +behave in this way, particularly in the presence of young men, and her +feeling towards her sister underwent a momentary revulsion. She noticed +that Denis scarcely took his eyes off her sister; but she also observed +that Leo hardly ever responded, and simply talked quietly and demurely +on to Guy Tyrrell or Stephen Fearwell. She could not understand, nor did +her deepest wishes allow her to suspect, that her sister's delightfully +sober mood was only a transient one.</p> + +<p>During the dinner a slight diversion was created by Leonetta's +addressing her parent as "Mother." But the poor child was so confused +when she realised what she had done, and particularly when she thought +of why she had done it, that everybody except Miss Mallowcoid +endeavoured to ease the situation by being tremendously voluble.</p> + +<p>After what had occurred between herself and her mother, the cold and +distant appellation "Edith" did not spring naturally or spontaneously to +Leonetta's lips. On the other hand "Peachy" seemed to belong to another +and previous exist<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>ence. She did not wish her mother to suspect, +however, that she had used the term "mother" with deliberate intent to +annoy.</p> + +<p>"That's right, my child," cried Miss Mallowcoid. "It is really +refreshing to hear one of you girls, at least, addressing your mother in +the usual and proper fashion!"</p> + +<p>Leonetta with her cheeks ablaze, glared at her aunt menacingly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't like it," she blurted out. "It was a slip of the tongue. +Cleo and I much prefer the name Edith."</p> + +<p>She spoke sharply and even rudely, seeing that it was her aunt she was +addressing, but Mrs. Delarayne, who was beginning to understand the +penitential spirit she was in, smiled kindly at her notwithstanding.</p> + +<p>"I always look upon them as three sisters," Sir Joseph exclaimed +somewhat laboriously, "whatever they call one another."</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid scoffed, and Mrs. Delarayne patted his hand +persuasively. "You get on with your dinner," she said playfully.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Miss Mallowcoid had not taken her vindictive eyes off her +younger niece, and the latter in sheer desperation plunged into an +animated but very perfunctory conversation with her right-hand +neighbour, Guy Tyrrell.</p> + +<p>It is time that this young man should be described. He was the type +usually called healthy and "clean-minded." He loved all sports and all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +kinds of exercise, particularly walking, and he could talk about these +out-of-door occupations fairly amusingly. He was fair, blue-eyed, +clean-shaven, and healthy-looking, and he believed in the possibility of +being a "pal" to a girl,—particularly if she happened to be a flapper. +His age was twenty-seven.</p> + +<p>It is not generally understood what precisely is implied by the so-called +healthy "clean-minded" unmarried Englishman of twenty-seven, or +thereabouts. As a rule the epithet "clean-minded" sums up not merely a +mental condition, but a method of life. It signifies that the young man to +whom it may justly be applied is either a master, or at least a lover, of +games, that his outlook is what is known as "breezy," that he observes the +rules of cricket in every relation to his fellow creatures, and that he is +capable of enduring defeat or success with the same impassable calm and +good-nature. Now it would be absurd to deny that here we have a very +imposing catalogue of highly desirable characteristics; it would, however, +be equally absurd to claim that the person in whom they are all happily +combined, necessarily displays, side by side with his mastery of games and +his deep understanding of cricket in particular, that mastery or +understanding of the mysteries of life, that virtuosity in the art of life, +which would constitute him a desirable mate. There is a <i>savoir faire</i>, +there are problems and intricacies in life, which no degree of familiarity +with cricket,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> no vast fund of experience in the football field, can help a +man to master; and it is even questionable whether a young man's ultimate +destiny as a husband and a father, far from being assisted, is not even +seriously complicated by the extent to which he must have specialised in +games and sports in order to earn for himself the whiteflower of +"clean-mindedness." It is the wives of such men who are in a position to +throw the most light on this question. There is no doubt that they +frequently have a tale to tell; but the best among them are naturally +disinclined to admit the very serious reasons they may have for disliking +the silver trophies that adorn their homes.</p> + +<p>As the dinner wore on, animation waxed greater; Sir Joseph dropped an +ever-increasing number of aspirates, and Leonetta was actually heard to +laugh quite merrily.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra still noticed that Denis was very much interested in her, and +also observed that, from time to time, Leonetta now responded to his +attentive scrutiny.</p> + +<p>The conversation turned on gymnastics. Denis, Guy, and Leonetta all +seemed to be talking at once; it was a subject that Cleopatra did not +know much about.</p> + +<p>"We always had three quarters of an hour's gym a day," said Leonetta, +looking straight at Denis.</p> + +<p>He laughed. "Oh, well," he exclaimed, "you have done me. I haven't +touched parallel bars or a trapeze for ten years."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Neither have I," Guy added.</p> + +<p>Thereupon Leonetta allowed Guy to feel the muscles of her arm.</p> + +<p>"Iron!" he ejaculated, while Cleopatra looked on with just a little +surprise.</p> + +<p>"You might at least say steel," she interjected, trying to sustain her +rôle as one of the juveniles at table.</p> + +<p>In the midst of a very prosy conversation with Sir Joseph and Miss +Mallowcoid, Mrs. Delarayne found opportunities enough to watch the +younger people, and she was not a little relieved to see the cloud +gradually lifting from Leonetta's brow. She knew that in the +circumstances she had not been too hard, and gathered from a hundred +different signs that her relationship to her younger daughter had been +materially improved by what had occurred.</p> + +<p>Later on in the drawing-room, before the men arrived, however, Leonetta +seemed to suffer a relapse into her former mood of excessive sobriety, +and it was then that Miss Mallowcoid beckoned her niece to her.</p> + +<p>"I think you were unnecessarily cross with me at dinner," Mrs. Delarayne +overheard her sister saying.</p> + +<p>Leonetta pouted, and with an air of utter indifference turned to +Cleopatra.</p> + +<p>"I think Guy Tyrrell rather tame, don't you? It was most awful uphill +work talking to him all through dinner."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra held up a finger admonishingly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> "You seemed to be talking +animatedly enough," she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Leonetta began, "all about photography, walking tours, and things +that don't matter—" Then she felt Miss Mallowcoid's huge cold hand on +her arm.</p> + +<p>"Leonetta dear, I said something to you a moment ago," lisped the +elderly spinster. And again Mrs. Delarayne looked up to try to catch her +daughter's reply.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Aunt Bella," said the girl, "but really one does not usually +expect to be congratulated on a slip of the tongue, and your—" she +burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne thereupon resumed her conversation with Agatha Fearwell, +as she was now satisfied that Leonetta was both thoroughly recovered and +satisfactorily reformed.</p> + +<p>"But I did not congratulate you, I—" her aunt persisted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," Leonetta interrupted, "it really isn't worth discussing."</p> + +<p>In any case it was not discussed, for at this juncture the men appeared.</p> + +<p>They distributed themselves anything but haphazardly; Sir Joseph, for +instance, seating himself by the side of his hostess; Denis Malster +between Leonetta and her sister, and Guy and Stephen, as their +diffidence suggested, as remotely as possible from the younger women of +the party.</p> + +<p>"Now, Leonetta," Sir Joseph began, "tell us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> something about your school +life. You are the only one amongst us who has just come from a strange +world."</p> + +<p>Leonetta laughed. "Yes, a very strange world," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph laughed too at what he conceived to be a most whimsical +suggestion.</p> + +<p>"And did you 'ave nice teachers?" he pursued.</p> + +<p>"Miss Tomlinson, the history mistress was my favourite," replied the +girl.</p> + +<p>Denis remarked that he did not know they taught history at a school of +Domesticity.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you see," Leonetta replied, "the history of the subject. Cookery +since the dawn of civilisation, or something desperate like that."</p> + +<p>"Was she nice?" Sir Joseph enquired.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," answered the girl, "though she wasn't beautiful. You +know, she had that sort of very long chin that you feel you ought to +shake hands with."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph laughed and made all kinds of grimaces at Mrs. Delarayne, +intended to convey that Leonetta was indeed a chip of the old block.</p> + +<p>"That's unkind," said Miss Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster threw out his legs and clasped his hands at the back of +his head preparatory to making a speech.</p> + +<p>"The heartlessness of flappers!" he murmured. "This is indeed a subject +worthy of elaboration. Why is the flapper usually heartless?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne was quick to perceive the un<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>pleasant possibilities of +developing such a theme, particularly in view of what had happened +earlier in the evening, and, seeking to save Leonetta's feelings, she +valiantly tried to change the subject.</p> + +<p>"Well, in any case," she said, addressing Leonetta, "you are none the +worse for it, my dear. Two years ago you were such a tomboy you could +scarcely get out of the door without chipping a piece off each hip; and +now——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, now she chips pieces off other people," interposed Miss +Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>Leonetta, however, was not attending. Her eyes were for the moment +fastened on Denis Malster. He had known how to say just the very thing +to provoke her interest. He had as much as declared that she was +heartless. He,—a man,—had said this. It was like a challenge. She, who +felt all heart, or what the world calls "heart," was strangely moved. +How could he say such a thing? This was the last remark she would have +expected from any man. Her curiosity was kindled, and with it her +vanity.</p> + +<p>She noticed, as her sister had noticed before her, that he was +efficient, well-groomed, smart of speech, passably good-looking, +independent at least in bearing, hard, at least in appearance, and +possessed of a certain gift of irony that could act like a lash.</p> + +<p>She began to think more highly of him; in fact the recollection of his +last remark actually piqued her now she thought of it again. At last, +for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> sheer decency, she had to look away from him, and as she did so, +she observed that Cleopatra averted her eyes from her.</p> + +<p>There was a stir in the company. Agatha Fearwell was going to sing, and +Miss Mallowcoid went to the piano.</p> + +<p>The performance was not above the usual standard of such amateur +efforts, and at the end of it the singer was vouchsafed the usual +perfunctory plaudits.</p> + +<p>Thereupon Sir Joseph requested a song from Cleopatra. This apparently +necessitated a long search in the music cabinet during which all the +young people rose from their seats. At last a song was found; it was a +sort of French folk-song entitled <i>Les Épouseuses du Berry</i>.</p> + +<p>As Cleopatra turned to join her aunt at the piano, however, a spectacle +met her eyes which, innocent as it appeared, was nevertheless fatal to +her composure.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster and Leonetta, facing each other in a far corner of the +room, with heads so close that they almost touched, and with hands +tightly clasped, were playing the old, old game of trying the strength +of each other's wrists, each endeavouring to force the other to kneel.</p> + +<p>It was harmless enough,—simply one of those very transparent and very +early attempts that are almost unconsciously made by two young people of +opposite sexes, to become decently and interestingly in close touch with +each other.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>Cleopatra's first feeling was one of surprise at Leonetta's being so +wonderfully resourceful in engaging the attention of men. When, however, +she observed the details of the contest,—the closely gripped hands, the +fingers intertwined, the palms now meeting, now parting, and the two +smiling faces, Denis Malster's rather attractive figure, appearing to +tremendous advantage now, she could not quite see why,—a feeling of +uncontrollable alarm took possession of her, and she spread her music +with some agitation before her aunt.</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid played the opening bars, and still the contest in the far +corner did not stop. Denis was not even aware that she—Cleopatra—was +about to sing.</p> + +<p>At last Mrs. Delarayne, who had not been blind to what was taking place, +felt she must interfere. Cleopatra's first note was already overdue.</p> + +<p>"Leo, Leo, my dear," she cried, "your sister is going to sing to us."</p> + +<p>Leonetta turned round, said she was sorry, released her hands, and she +and Denis joined the seated group at some distance from the piano.</p> + +<p>The incident, however, was not over yet; for, just as her sister sang +her first note, Leonetta, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and her +hands discoloured by the struggle, ejaculated loud enough for everyone +to hear, "Denis, you're a fibber. Your hands are like iron too!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne put a finger to her lips, but it was too late. There was +a sound of music being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> roughly folded up, and Cleopatra turned away +from the piano.</p> + +<p>"If you're all going to talk," she said, looking a little pale, "it's no +use my singing, is it? I can wait a moment."</p> + +<p>"Sorry, old girl," Leonetta cried. "It was only me. I'm dumb now."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne had risen and was urging her elder daughter back to the +piano. Sir Joseph was also trying his hand at persuasion, and when Miss +Mallowcoid and Agatha added their prayers to the rest, Cleopatra at last +spread her music out again, and the song began.</p> + +<p>Those, however, who know the swing and gaiety of <i>Les Épouseuses du +Berry</i>, will hardly require to be told how hopeless was the effect of it +when sung by a voice which, owing to recent and unabated vexation, was +continually on the verge of tears. Nothing, perhaps, is more thoroughly +tragic than a really lively melody intoned by a voice quavering with +emotion, and even Sir Joseph, who did not understand a word of the song, +was deeply grateful when it was all over.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne made determined efforts at restoring the natural and +spontaneous good cheer which the party appeared to have lost, but her +exertions were only partially successful, and although Agatha Fearwell +and Cleopatra sang other songs, the recollection of that tragico-comic +<i>Les Épouseuses du Berry</i> had evidently sunk too deeply to be removed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> + +<p>That night, as Cleopatra was taking leave of her mother, in the latter's +bedroom, she lingered a little at the door.</p> + +<p>"What is it, my darling?" Mrs. Delarayne demanded. "Do you want to ask +me something?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Edith," Cleopatra replied slowly, looking down at the handle she +was holding. "I am perfectly prepared to admit that Leo did not perhaps +intend to be offensive over my song, although, of course, as you know +she ruined the whole thing; but anyhow, do you think that she has any +right, so soon after meeting him, to call Mr. Malster 'Denis'? Isn't it +rather bad form?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne sighed. "Very bad form, my dear, very bad form," she +replied. "Of course, I admit, it's very bad form. But for all we know, +he may have asked her to do it. You see, both you and I call him +'Denis,' and I suppose he thought it would sound odd if Leo did not +also."</p> + +<p>Still Cleopatra lingered. She wanted to say more, and Mrs. Delarayne +divined that she wanted to say more. The words, however, were hard to +find, and, at last, bidding her mother "Good-night," she departed only +half comforted.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>Lord Henry felt he had done his best for England, and now his mind +turned covetously towards a country and a clime where his best promised +to yield richer and better fruit. He had mended society's nervous wrecks +so long that he had come to look upon the whole modern world as a +machine too hopelessly out of gear to repay his skilful efforts.</p> + +<p>"People who never sit down to a meal with an appetite," he would say, +"people whose bodies are as surcharged as their houses with superfluous +loot, cannot hope to be well, physically or spiritually. We live on an +island huddled together, and yet we grow every day further apart. For +the acquisition of superfluous loot means incessant strife. The worst +sign of the times is that abstract terms no longer mean the same thing +to any two people. Individualism is thus destroying even the value of +language. Because where each man has his individual view a common +language itself becomes an impossibility. The effort of the Middle Ages +was to convert Europe into a single nation. The effort of the modern or +'Muddle' Age, is to convert each single nation into a Europe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> That is +why abstract terms are slowly losing their value as the current coin of +speech."</p> + +<p>St. Maur had attached himself to Lord Henry as a kind of voluntary or +honorary secretary. He assisted his master where and when he could, and +felt that he was more than adequately repaid in the enormous amount he +learnt from him.</p> + +<p>"Is there no remedy?" he demanded seriously on a day early in August, +when the prospect of losing his friend was weighing more heavily than +usual upon him. The two were sitting talking in the study of Lord +Henry's cottage which stood in a lane off the London road, about two +miles north of Ashbury, where his sanatorium was situated.</p> + +<p>"There is a remedy, of course," replied Lord Henry. "It would consist in +uniting modern nations afresh by means of a powerful common culture. It +is only then that men can be guided and led, for it is only then that +they can understand what they are taught about life and humanity. In the +Middle Ages a common culture was so universal, that even the barriers of +nationality did not prevent men from understanding one another. Now +there is such a total lack of a uniform culture that men of the same +nation speak an unknown tongue to one another. That is the recipe for +stupidity."</p> + +<p>"But cannot this new uniform culture be created?" St. Maur insisted.</p> + +<p>"It would mean a great new religion," Lord Henry answered. "And we are +all too much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> exhausted for such a stupendous undertaking. New religions +depend in the first place upon the belief in great men, and where are +the great men of to-day? Only those whose coarse impudence has made them +forget their limitations start new religions nowadays. And look at the +result!"</p> + +<p>"There are enough of them at all events," suggested St. Maur.</p> + +<p>"Exactly,—their number is the best comment on their futility."</p> + +<p>"But surely the effort, general as it is, shows that people agree with +you, and feel the need that you see and recognise?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the arrogance with which they pretend to supply the need +themselves, is the best proof of how deeply they misunderstand the +gravity of their plight. Look at these Theosophists, Spiritualists, and +members of the Inner Light,—mere cliques, mere handfuls of uninspired +and uninspiring cranks. They'll never spread a uniform and unifying +culture. They cannot therefore make language once more a common currency +for thought."</p> + +<p>Aubrey St. Maur had endeared himself to Lord Henry chiefly by the +inordinate beauty of his person, his exuberant health, and his modesty. +He was wealthy and the only son of a wealthy father. All the "loot" of +the de Porvilliers had come to him through his mother, and to Lord +Henry's surprise had failed to turn his head. On the contrary, it had if +anything filled him with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> feeling of guilt, or perhaps that which is +most akin to guilt—obligation. And he had long wondered how best he +could discharge this obligation to the world. In Lord Henry's company he +had elected to find a solution to this problem.</p> + +<p>But Lord Henry did not want the youth to join him on his journey to +China. The love the young nobleman still felt for his native country +bade him leave this promising member of it, if only as a forlorn hope, +to prove to Englishmen that here and there, at ever more distant +intervals, their blood was still capable of producing something that was +eminently desirable.</p> + +<p>"You will succeed your father in the Upper House," he said to St. Maur +on this occasion, when the latter expressed the desire to become a pious +mandarin, "and you will, I trust, be an example of health and wisdom to +all. The faith in blood and lineage wants people like you. There is so +precious little to which it can be pinned nowadays."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well," protested St. Maur. "But you are deserting the +battlefield, and leaving an unfledged pupil in charge. Is this nothing +to you? Are you incapable of becoming attached to anybody? Without +fishing for compliments, is it nothing to you to break our friendship in +this way?"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry, who as usual was curling his mesh of hair with his fingers, +cast a sidelong glance full of meaning at his friend and smiled.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy, if it hadn't been for you," he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> said, "I should not be +here now. Do you suppose it amuses me to investigate the unsavoury +details of every society lady's nervous affliction? Do you suppose I'm +flattered by such and such a Guardsman's encomiums when I have cured his +stammer, or his inability to proceed beyond the letter 'P' when writing +a letter?"</p> + +<p>"What is your real purpose in going to China?" persisted the younger +man. "I shan't divulge. Can't you tell me?"</p> + +<p>"In the first place, my dear boy," Lord Henry replied, "curiosity. I +honestly want to see how Chinamen have escaped the madness that is +overtaking Europe. Secondly, I have a heart, and I love my country, and +I cannot witness my country's decline. Thirdly, and chiefly,—but this +is a secret,—I feel that now it is the duty of all enlightened Western +Europeans, who have seen the madness of European civilisation, to hasten +to the last healthy spot on earth and to preach the Gospel of +Europophobia,—that is to say, to warn the wise East against our +criminal errors, and to save it from becoming infected by our diseases. +If the world is to be saved, a <i>cordon sanitaire</i> must be established +round Europe and everything like Europe; for Europe has now become a +pestilence."</p> + +<p>St. Maur who had been standing at the window with his back turned to his +friend swung suddenly round, his face illumined as if by an inspiration.</p> + +<p>"By Jove," he cried, "that is an idea! That is indeed a crusade! I +hadn't thought of that!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is the only beneficent direction in which I feel I can use my +powers," said Lord Henry gravely. "It is, if you will, my religion. I +feel I am called to be a missionary to the East, to preach the solemn +warning against Western civilisation."</p> + +<p>"God!" St. Maur exclaimed, "that's an idea with which to fire a +generation. It is a new gospel; a new gospel of sin and the Devil."</p> + +<p>"I assure you," Lord Henry rejoined, "the bulk of the men at my club +would not turn a hair at the suggestion. They would simply turn their +papers over, nod significantly at each other, and whisper, 'The fellow's +not all there.'"</p> + +<p>At this moment Lord Henry's man, Fordham, entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" his master grunted from the depths of his chair.</p> + +<p>"A lady to see you, my lord," replied the man.</p> + +<p>"I'm out."</p> + +<p>"That's what I said, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"The lady said that was all nonsense; she 'ad called at the Sanatorium, +and they'd said you was 'ere."</p> + +<p>"Then her name's Delarayne," said Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's it, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, show her up."</p> + +<p>"That woman's a wonder," St. Maur exclaimed. "It is a boiling hot day; +at any moment there may be a storm; there was probably no fly at the +sta<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>tion,—there never is when I come,—and she must have walked the +whole of the two miles in the dust. She has an eye on you, my friend."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lord Henry, "and by the time a woman has her eye on you, she +usually has her claws in you as well. You needn't go," he added, as he +noticed St. Maur preparing to leave. "But she's an admirable woman. Good +taste amounts almost to heroism in these women who battle with age until +their very last breath."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne, if anything more regal and more youthful than ever, but +certainly showing signs of having taken violent exercise along a chalky +thoroughfare, stepped eagerly towards Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>"My dear Lord Henry," she began, "so good of you to be in only to me. +But oh, I felt I must see you before leaving town."</p> + +<p>She turned and shook hands with St. Maur, and Lord Henry moved an easy +chair in her direction.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's right; give me a chair, quick!" she gasped. "I'm +broken—broken in body and spirit."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry asked the expected question.</p> + +<p>"Only this," she said, "that my life soon won't be worth a moment's +purchase."</p> + +<p>"You are tired," suggested her host. "You don't look after yourself."</p> + +<p>"It isn't that," Mrs. Delarayne rejoined. "Nobody takes greater care of +themselves than I do. I go to bed every night at ten o'clock precisely,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +and read until half-past two. What more can I do?"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry blinked rapidly, and surveyed her with an air of deep +interest. "And you say you are leaving town?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm taking my family to Brineweald, you know. It is my annual +penance, my yearly sacrificial offering to my children. It lasts just +six weeks. By the end of it, of course, I am at death's door; but I feel +that I can then face the remaining forty-six weeks of gross selfishness +with a clean conscience and a brazen face."</p> + +<p>"Who's going?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the usual crowd,—my daughters, of course, a friend of theirs, a +young Jewess, and perhaps the Fearwell children. The men of the party +and my sister Bella will be lodged at Sir Joseph's place, Brineweald +Park."</p> + +<p>"It sounds engaging enough," said St. Maur.</p> + +<p>"Oh, most!" sighed Mrs. Delarayne. "Oh, you can't think what a happy +mother I'd be if only I had no children!"</p> + +<p>Both men laughed, and Mrs. Delarayne who, ever since her arrival, had +been casting unmistakable glances at St. Maur, at last succeeded in +silently conveying her meaning to him.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm afraid I must be going downstairs," he said, "I've letters to +write."</p> + +<p>She extended a hand with alacrity. "Oh, it looks as if I were driving +you away," she said.</p> + +<p>St. Maur protested feebly against this truthful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> interpretation of his +proposed retreat, and withdrew.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry took a seat opposite to his visitor, who was obviously as shy +as a schoolgirl in his presence, and surveyed her covertly.</p> + +<p>"Have you come to tell me that you have abandoned that absurd Inner +Light?" he demanded playfully.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed; why should I?" she rejoined with affected indignation.</p> + +<p>"It is unpardonable," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Why unpardonable?"</p> + +<p>"Had you been a Protestant in the past, it would at least have been +comprehensible," he said, "because any kind of absurdity is possible +after one has been a Protestant. What after all are all these +ridiculous, new-fangled creeds but further schisms of Protestantism? But +seeing that you were once a Catholic, I repeat, it is unpardonable."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne purred resentfully, as if to imply that it would require +something more than that line of persuasion to convince her of her +error.</p> + +<p>"What do you do to induce me to abandon anything—however erroneous?" +she protested at last. "It isn't as if you were even remaining in the +country. You are going away. But I cannot bear to think of your going +away."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry folded his hands and scrutinised her for a moment beneath +lowered brows. Her manner was unmistakable; she revealed as much of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +game as her dignity allowed. His heart softened towards her.</p> + +<p>"Is it so much to you that I am going?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she replied, mock cheerfully, "<i>le roi est mort, vive le +roi!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Haven't you a number of friends?"</p> + +<p>"Weighed in the scales, of course," she said, "they represent a +tremendous amount of friendship."</p> + +<p>"Aren't your daughters an interest?"</p> + +<p>"Too adorable, of course,—so adorable that I sometimes wish I'd never +been born."</p> + +<p>The problem as it presented itself to Lord Henry was rightly: how could +this quinquagenarian be given a son whom she could worship? To Mrs. +Delarayne the problem was: how could she induce this young man to +overcome the obvious objection consisting in the disparity of their +ages? She could read her own nature no further than this.</p> + +<p>"Have you never any feelings of loneliness?" she demanded. "Don't you +ever reflect upon the happiness you might secure yourself and somebody +else by being decently married?"</p> + +<p>"I might be tempted to marry. It is perfectly possible," Lord Henry +replied. "Hitherto the only thing that has deterred me has been my +vanity. It would be so horrible to watch the love a woman might bear me +slowly turning to indifference,—for that is what marriage means,—that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +I don't think I could have the courage to embark upon the undertaking."</p> + +<p>"You are flippant," said the widow sadly. "You pipe and joke while Rome +is burning."</p> + +<p>"One day, of course, I shall have to marry," he muttered, as if to +himself.</p> + +<p>She would have liked to ask him to Brineweald. She wanted a deep breath +of him before he left. For some reason, however, for which she was not +too anxious to account, she did not express this wish.</p> + +<p>"Why will you <i>have</i> to?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I mean," he said, "simply what I am always repeating in my clinique, +that save in the case of those who are really called to celibacy,—the +Newmans, the Spencers, and the Nietzsches of this world,—physical and +spiritual health is difficult without a normal sexual life."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," the widow agreed.</p> + +<p>"Quite so," Lord Henry repeated, "a <i>normal</i> sexual life." He emphasised +the word "normal," hoping thereby to convey gently how hopeless her +scheme was.</p> + +<p>"And when will that be?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Heaven knows!"</p> + +<p>She rose, went to the window, and there was a pause.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry," she began after a while, "would it seem odd to you? Would +you think me shameless? Am I hopelessly abandoned, to tell you now, how +very much more than mere friendship, mere gratitude I feel for you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>He buried his face in his hands and held his breath. He knew this was +inevitable; but as he had already told St. Maur, he had a heart.</p> + +<p>She did not look at him, but continued speaking fluently, warmly, +incisively.</p> + +<p>"Ever since I met you, I have felt what all of us women long to feel, +the ridiculous inferiority of the bulk of modern men suddenly relieved +by an object which we are willing to serve and obey. Your cures, if you +have ever effected any in me, were just that,—not your regimens or your +analyses,—but your words, your glance, the touch of your hand, your +presence. Everybody knows you have a bewildering presence. I need not +add to the idle compliments you must receive on all hands. But surely I +have recognised the greatness beneath the outward glamour. And it has +cast a spell over me. I admit it. I am fettered to it, riveted to it. We +women suffer to-day because we have no such men as you to look up to. +Oh, to have met for once something great, something precious, in a world +where these things are so rare!"</p> + +<p>He glanced up at her. He could not help observing her spruce footgear +smothered in the dust of the road, her straight proud back, her fine +profile outlined against the bright colours of the chintz, and her +blue-veined hands. And he felt an uncontrollable impulse to tell her how +deeply he admired her.</p> + +<p>"You are no fool," she pursued; "you must have known that I loved you. +Therefore I'm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> only confirming what you already know. But, believe me, +Lord Henry, I am something more than one of your interesting cases."</p> + +<p>He protested.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know; you always say women cannot understand men, because to +comprehend is to comprise, and the smaller cannot comprise the +greater——"</p> + +<p>He smiled approvingly.</p> + +<p>"You see how accurately I can quote you. That is possibly true. I do not +claim to be able to understand you. But surely you will grant me that a +woman may have a deep and very real knowledge of being in the presence +of something exceptionally great, without precisely understanding it?"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry rose. He was blinking rapidly and tugging with more than +usual force at his mesh of hair.</p> + +<p>"Am I impossible?" she asked hoarsely. "Is the disparity of our ages +such that, hitherto, the thought of our being more than friends has been +unthinkable to you?"</p> + +<p>He went to her side by the window. Words were forming on his lips, but +they would make no sentence. She saw his lips moving and noticed his +distress.</p> + +<p>"Is it not a sign of our deep sympathy that you are the only man in all +England in whose presence I forget my ghastly age, my half century and +more expended on futilities?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> + +<p>He took her hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edith Delarayne, you wonderful creature!" he exclaimed; "that is +the tragedy. You put your finger on the tragedy. If only you could be +twenty again, what a wife you would make for me!"</p> + +<p>She gave a little sob and fell into his arms. "Oh, my boy, my dear boy!" +she cried, and kissed his hand almost with the avidity of hunger, as it +clasped hers on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>She released herself slowly and lightly dabbed her eyes.</p> + +<p>"When are you going away?" he demanded gravely.</p> + +<p>"The day after to-morrow," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Write to me as usual," he said.</p> + +<p>She caught his hand and grasped it firmly. "Oh, Lord Henry, be the same +to me!" she pleaded.</p> + +<p>He laughed the plea to scorn. "Of course I'll always be the same to you. +What do you think?"</p> + +<p>She saw that he meant it and moved lightly towards the door. "I must be +going," she said, putting away her handkerchief, and trying to control +an awkward catch in her breath which was reminiscent of her weeping.</p> + +<p>He urged her to stay for lunch; he offered to have her fetched by the +Sanatorium car; he begged to be allowed to accompany her back to +Ashbury; but she stalwartly refused; and in a moment he and St. Maur +were watching her, sprightly as a girl, tripping back along the dusty +road to the station.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My boy, my dear boy," he muttered to St. Maur, "that is what she felt, +that is what she said. The unconscious voice in her knew the desired +relationship and expressed the wish, although the conscious mind thought +only of 'husband.'"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p>"So inexhaustibly rich is the sun that even when it goes down it pours +its gold into the very depths of the sea; and then even the poorest +boatman rows with golden oars."</p> + +<p>Thus spoke the greatest poet of the nineteenth century, and thus all +generations of men have felt.</p> + +<p>The warm rich colour, as of ripeness, that it gives to the youngest +cheek, the tawny tinge as of jungle fauna with which it vitalises every +dead-white urban hand, and the enchanting glamour it lends to the +plainest head and face,—these are a few of the works of the sun that +are surely a proof of its demoniacal glory. Halos, it is true, it +fashions as well, and beyond reckoning; but the white teeth that flash +from the tanned mask are scarcely those of a saint. Or has a saint +actually been known who really had white teeth of his own?</p> + +<p>August in England, between the moist wood-clad hills and the blinding +glitter of the sea; August in a beautiful country homestead, with its +flowering garden, its cool carpet of lawn stretching to a black line of +thick hedgerow which seems to be the last barrier between earth and +ocean,—what a season it is, and what a setting for the great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>est game +of youth, the game of catch as catch can, with a cheerless winter for +the losers!</p> + +<p>The world is at her old best, and all her children are exalted and +exhilarated by the knowledge that they are at their best also. Even the +trippers are perpetually in Sabbath clothes, as a sign that they are +infected with the prevalent feeling of festivity.</p> + +<p>Sabbath clothes without the Sabbath gloom, beauty without piety, freedom +with open shops, sunshine without duty,—these to the masses are some of +the chief joys of the summer sun in England.</p> + +<p>In this enumeration of a few of the leading features of a sunny August +in England, however, we should not forget to mention what will appear to +some the least desirable of them all. The fact that this particular +feature is omitted by the most successful English poets of the Victorian +School, as by other sentimentalists, would not excuse us in failing to +give it at least a passing reference here; for Victorian, alas! does not +by any means signify Alexandrian in regard to the periods of English +poetry; and even if it be a sin to mention this aspect of a sunny +August, we prefer to sin rather than to resemble a Victorian poet.</p> + +<p>The quality referred to, then, is a certain result of the eternally +pagan influence of the sun. For, say what you will, the sun is pagan. It +says "Yea" to life. In its glorious rays it is ridiculously easy to +forget the alleged beauties of another world. Under its scorching heat +the snaky<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> sinuousness of a basking cat seems more seductive than the +image of a winged angel, and amid the gold it lavishes, nothing looks +more loathsome, more repulsive, than the pale cheek of pious ill-health. +In short it urges man and woman to a wanton enjoyment of life and their +fellows; it recalls to them their relationship to the beasts of the +field and the birds in the trees; it fills them with a careless thirst +and hunger for the chief pastimes of these animals,—feeding, drinking, +and procreation; and the more "exalted" practices of self-abnegation, +self-sacrifice, and the mortification of the flesh, are easily forgotten +in such a mood.</p> + +<p>Nothing goes wrong, nothing can go wrong, while the sun blazes and the +flowers are beautiful. So thinks everybody who has survived Puritanism +unscathed, so thought the majority of Brineweald's visitors that year, +so thought Mrs. Delarayne and her party of eager young swains and still +more eager virgins. Wantonness was in the air,—wantonness and beauty; +and when these two imps of passion come together August is at its +zenith.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne had been down at Brineweald a little under a week; +Vanessa Vollenberg and the young Fearwells had already been of the party +four whole days; Sir Joseph with Denis Malster and Guy Tyrrell, Mr. and +Mrs. Gerald Tribe and Miss Mallowcoid had arrived at Brineweald Park +twenty-four hours after the Delarayne household<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> had been completed, and +now everybody was busy settling down to the novelty of life, effacing +the traces of strangeness wherever they appeared, and measuring each +other's skill and power at pastimes not necessarily confined to +swimming, golf, and tennis.</p> + +<p>Leonetta had been congratulated on her friend Vanessa. Mrs. Delarayne +who had expected an over-dressed, heavy young lady, with Shylock +countenance and shaggy negroid coiffure, had been not a little surprised +when she saw alight on the Brineweald down platform a girl who, though +distinctly Semitic in features, had all the refinement, good taste, and +sobriety of a Gentile and a lady. It was a relief, to say the least, and +when, in addition, she found her intelligent and a lively companion, she +was devoutly thankful.</p> + +<p>Nothing beneath that fierce August sun escaped the keen comprehending +eye of Vanessa Vollenberg. The mother and the two daughters with whom +she found her present lot cast, gave her food enough for meditation and +secret comment; but while their acumen and penetration were hardly +inferior to her own, she felt an adult among people not completely grown +up. It was as if they still retained more of the ingenuousness of +primitive womanhood than she, and thus she "circumnavigated" them, while +they, all too self-centred, had barely discovered in which hemisphere +her shores were to be found. In this way the seniority of her race was +probably revealed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beautiful in her own Oriental style, voluptuous and graceful, with small +well-made hands, and shapely limbs, she might have proved a formidable +rival to Leonetta; or was it perhaps precisely her Jewish blood,—which +seemed in Leonetta's eyes to preclude rivalry,—that had first endeared +this attractive young Jewess to her wilful Gentile friend?</p> + +<p>Girls have strange reasons for "falling in love" with each other at +school. It is not impossible that the inconceivability of eventual +rivalry should be one of these.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne's house, "The Fastness," was one of a round dozen large +houses that stood along the crest of Brineweald Hill, overlooking the +little seaside town of Stonechurch. It took a little over fifteen +minutes to walk down from Brineweald to the beach at Stonechurch, and +perhaps a little over twenty minutes to walk back up the steep hill. Sir +Joseph's place, Brineweald Park, lay inland on the far side of the +village of Brineweald, about a mile from "The Fastness," but the +distance was soon covered by the young people, even when they could not +dispose of one of Sir Joseph's cars; and the two households were +therefore practically always mingled.</p> + +<p>Bathing, tennis, golf, picnicking, croquet,—these helped to fill the +time while the sun was high; and when the cool of the evening came, the +quiet paths and groves of Brineweald Park, or the bowers of Mrs. +Delarayne's garden, were an agreeable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> refuge for bodies pleasantly +fatigued and faintly langorous.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne who was not uncommonly in a condition of faint languor +was content, during these terrible six weeks of her life, to play the +part of spectator. Silently, but with a good proportion of the available +interest, she contemplated the younger members of the party, and whether +she happened to be on her <i>chaise-longue</i> overlooking her own lawn, or +on the terrace of Brineweald Park, her deep concern about the +performances of her juniors never abated. The fact that a good deal of +this determined attention was calculated to ward off the less attractive +alternative of Sir Joseph's untiring advances, was suspected least of +all by the generous squire of Brineweald himself; but it was noticeable +too, that she would often sit for long spells neither observing the +pranks of her young people nor listening to Sir Joseph's dulcet tones, +and then it was that her daughters would suspect that age was after all +beginning to tell, even in the case of their valiant parent. At such +times she was, of course, simply dreaming day dreams of the life she +could have had if, as "he" had said, she had been twenty now; and the +beatific expression that would come into her face was scarcely one of +reconciliation to senility.</p> + +<p>To say that Vanessa Vollenberg and Agatha Fearwell were perfectly happy +on this holiday, would be a little wide of the mark. Indeed their +condition fell very much more short of perfect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> happiness than they +could possibly have anticipated.</p> + +<p>Truth to tell, Leonetta was too indisputably mistress of the stage. The +infinite resource with which she contrived always to draw the limelight in +her direction, the unremitting regularity with which she turned every +circumstance into a "curtain" for her own apotheosis, while it fired the +proud Cleopatra to ever fresh efforts at successful competition,—efforts +which were proving tremendously exhausting,—left Vanessa and Agatha in a +state not unlike a suspension of hostilities. They simply waited. Of all +the men, Denis Malster was certainly the only one that a girl could have +been expected to make a struggle for, and since he appeared to be entirely +hypnotised by Leonetta, the remaining two, one of whom, in Agatha's case, +was a brother, seemed to invite only a Platonic relationship of games and +sports.</p> + +<p>It is true that Guy Tyrrell felt he could have gone to any lengths with +the fascinating, voluptuous Jewess; but he had the inevitable defects of +his "clean-mindedness," and knew as little how to engage the interest of +a thoroughly matriculated girl as to rouse enthusiasm for botany in a +cat.</p> + +<p>The first walk they had taken with the three young men and Cleopatra and +her sister had been typical of much that followed.</p> + +<p>In the middle of a conversation in which Vanessa's native Jewish wit was +beginning to tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> against the more homely gifts of the rest of the +party, Leonetta would suddenly fall back, stand in an attitude of rapt +attention over a brook, a well, a wild flower, a plank bridge, a pool, +or anything; and, at a signal from her, the three men of the party would +quickly rally to her halting place, and enter heartily into whatever +spirit the object contemplated was supposed to stimulate.</p> + +<p>It was usually the merest trifle that caused her thus to arrest for a +moment the forward movement of her companions, and to interrupt a +conversation to boot; but Vanessa alone had the penetration to see the +unfailing instinct for power, the unflagging determination to be the +centre of attention, which prompted this simple strategy, on Leonetta's +part; and rather than compete with it,—seeing that it was practised +with all the usual efficiency of unconsciousness,—she saved herself the +vexation of possible defeat by yielding quietly to Leonetta the +supremacy she apparently insisted upon having. Thus, while she kept a +steady eye upon Denis Malster, whose manner had captivated her from the +start, she was content, or rather discontent, to note step by step Guy +Tyrrell's blundering innocence in attempted courtship.</p> + +<p>Agatha, accustomed as she was to the rôle of padding in life, fell back +on her devoted brother, and used such influence as she possessed over +him, to keep his mind well aired and cool amid the slightly overheating +breezes of that memorable midsummer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>Cleopatra, on the other hand, not so wise perhaps as Vanessa, certainly +not so ready to retire as Agatha, and possibly less able to feel if not +to simulate indifference, than either of them, plunged into the conflict +with a vigour and a degree of animation which made her almost as +unbearable to the other girls as Leonetta herself. Again, however, +Vanessa was shrewd enough to realise the emergency Cleopatra was in, and +forgave her much that left Agatha painfully wondering. For Cleopatra the +fight was a serious one. It called for all her resources and all her +skill. Unfortunately she lacked Leonetta's fertility in finding means by +which to draw the general attention upon herself, and being overanxious +as well, her tactics frequently failed. She would descend to every shift +to thwart her sister's wiles,—only to find, however, that it was more +often Stephen Fearwell or the Incandescent Gerald, than Guy and Denis, +who allowed themselves to be diverted from their orbit round Leonetta, +to attend to her.</p> + +<p>At tennis it would be a blister suddenly formed on Leonetta's hand; at +croquet it would be a fledgling just beside her ball; on the beach it +would be a peculiar pebble,—anywhere, everywhere, there was always +something over which Leonetta would suddenly stand dramatically still, +until every male within sight, including sometimes Sir Joseph himself, +had run all agog to her side.</p> + +<p>Now the imitation of such tactics is difficult enough; their defeat, +when they are combated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> consciously, is literally exhausting. In two or +three days Cleopatra was exhausted.</p> + +<p>Never at a loss for a pretext, never apparently thinking any excuse too +jejune, too transparently fatuous, or too puerile, to draw the attention +of the men, Leonetta, with unabated high spirits, won again and again, +every day, every hour, such a number of these silent secret victories +over the rest of the young women of the party, that at the end of a +week, when their cumulative effect was so overwhelmingly manifest as no +longer to allow of denial, she openly assumed the rôle of queen of the +party.</p> + +<p>Again and again, in a game of tennis, Cleopatra's tired and overworked +brain would grapple with the problem, why a certain empty remark of +Leonetta's had caused Denis and Guy to double up with laughter, and had +thus held up the game for a moment; and the solution was hard to find. +She knew that even a brighter remark from herself would not have so much +as caused them to interrupt their service; but she was imperfectly +acquainted with the psychology of rulership, and did not understand that +when once, by fair means or foul, a certain member of a party has by her +own unaided efforts elevated herself to the position of its queen, +everything ostensibly witty that proceeds from her mouth is greeted with +obsequious laughter by her devoted subjects.</p> + +<p>Indeed, in order not to appear a spoilsport, Cleopatra was at last +reduced to the humiliating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> resort of joining in the courtly merriment +which appeared to her so extravagantly to result from her sister's +mildest jests.</p> + +<p>To say that by this time she was feeling a slight sinking sensation in +the region of her heart, would be to express with scrupulous moderation +what was actually taking place. For Cleopatra, theretofore, had held her +own against the best. A good rider, a splendid shot, with almost a +professional form in tennis and golf, and a good swimmer and dancer +besides, she possessed none of those shortcomings, so handsomely +acknowledged when they are present, which would even have justified her +in taking up an unassuming position. Besides she was quite rightly aware +of owning certain sterling qualities which promised to afford a very +much more solid support to the everyday life of this world, than the +constant carnival brilliance of her sister; and she found it oppressive +to have to appear perpetually in carnival spirits, when she craved for +those more sober moods in which her less volatile virtues could make a +good display.</p> + +<p>She was beginning to find her sister's hard, unrelenting rivalry +difficult to forgive, and the steady shaping of a dreaded feeling of +loathing for the cause of her partial eclipse began to cause her some +alarm.</p> + +<p>Thus each day ended with a tacit, concealed, but very real victory for +Leonetta, without her sister deriving any further satisfaction from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +unavowed contest, than an aching weariness both of body and spirit.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Vanessa, more piqued by her whilom "sweetheart's" increasing +neglect of her than by that young lady's inordinate success with the +men, would come on the scene in the evening with all the advantage of +being less jaded than Cleopatra by the day's incessant duel, and then +would frequently score point after point against her schoolmate, without +ever revealing a sign of the eagerness she felt for the fray. In +addition she made herself a great favourite of the wealthy baronet, and +recognising in him a means of possibly exercising some power over Denis, +cultivated his affection by every wile of which her clever race made her +capable.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster was obviously the most staggered by the turn events had +taken. Bewildered and fascinated by Leonetta's art of blowing hot and +cold, as the spirit moved her, kept constantly alert by the rapid +changes of her caprice, he had come to have eyes and ears only for her +imperious youth. If she ran off with Guy Tyrrell or with Stephen +Fearwell,—a mere boy,—he grew grave, meditative, taciturn; when she +returned he resumed his rôle of obsequious courtier without either +reserve or concealment. And who can be more obsequious to a pretty +schoolgirl than an Englishman of thirty?</p> + +<p>The British are known all over the world for their stamina, for the grit +and tenacity with which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> they can play a losing game; nay, it is even +reported that they have frequently turned a losing game into a victory +by this very capacity for stubborn patience in adversity.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra lacked none of the qualities which have made the British +nation famous. She, too, could play a losing game with dignity, grace, +and pride; even if, as in this case, it was the cruellest game that a +girl can be called upon to play. Perhaps, too, she noticed the conflict +that had started in Denis Malster's heart; or maybe she simply saw the +unmistakable signs of his dawning passion. But, in any case, and as +quickly as surely as she realised that he was becoming enslaved to her +sister, his charms underwent a mysterious intensification in her eyes +that only aggravated the difficulties of her position.</p> + +<p>Certainly he had not made the first advances. Or, if he had, they had +been too subtle to be observed. What woman, moreover, really believes +that a man is ever guilty in the traffic of the sexes? She had, however, +been compelled to notice her sister's manœuvres. They had been +unmistakable, untiring, unpardonable.</p> + +<p>At times she had even been constrained to admire the skill with which +Guy Tyrrell, Stephen Fearwell, and the Incandescent Gerald himself had +been employed by Leonetta in the business of tormenting Denis into a +state of complete subjection. Every means was legitimate to Leonetta. If +she could not pretend to read a man's hand, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> would make a cat's +cradle with him; if she could not take his arm, she would plead sudden +fatigue in order that he might take her hand to pull her up hill; if she +picked a wild rose, a thorn would be sure to remain buried in the skin +of her finger, which at some propitious moment would require to be +laboriously removed by one of the male members of the party.</p> + +<p>A girl may struggle with fortitude against such a determined dispute for +supremacy; she may deploy her whole strength and even contrive parallel +manœuvres of her own; but even when she is not less beautiful than +her rival, as was the case with Cleopatra, the more conscious of the two +engaged in such a match is bound in the end to be less happy in her +discoveries, less spontaneous in her inventions, and therefore less +successful in her results. For natural spontaneity is quickly felt and +appreciated by a group of fellow-beings, as is also the element of +vexation and overanxiousness, which Cleopatra was beginning to reveal +despite all her efforts at concealment.</p> + +<p>The most unnerving, the most jading, however, of all her self-imposed +performances at this moment, was the constraint to laugh and be merry, +when others laughed and were merry over the frequently empty horse-play +of her sister.</p> + +<p>It was this particularly that was beginning to tell against her in the +duel. And as fast as she felt herself losing ground, as surely as she +felt her hold on Denis slackening, the old gnawing sensa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>tion at her +heart, which had first been felt years before when Leonetta had ceased +to be a child, would assert itself with hitherto unwonted painfulness, +unprecedented insistence, until it began like a disease to come between +her and her meals, and, worse than all, to engage her attention when she +ought to have been sleeping.</p> + +<p>Thus during these wonderful summer days, while all nature was proud with +her magnificent display, while the sun poured down its splendour without +stint upon the homely Kentish coast, Cleopatra, nodding and bowing in +the breeze, like any other flower, fragrant and unhandseled like the +other blooms about her, and voluptuous and seductive like a full-blown +rose, was yet aware of a parasitic germ in her heart that was eating her +life-blood away. To her, alone, in all that party, the warm arms of the +sun brandished javelins, and the calm riches of the landscape concealed +jibes. The meanest field labourer seemed happier than she, the commonest +insect more wanton and more free.</p> + +<p>You would have passed her by without noticing that she was in any way +different from her sister, except perhaps that she was obviously more +mature. In her spirited glance and smile you would have detected nothing +of the tempest in her soul, nothing of the fear in her heart. Only a +botanist of the human spirit could have observed that subtle difference +in her look, that suggestion of anxiety in her parted lips, which told +the tale<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> of her incomparably courageous, determined, undaunted, but +sadly unavailing fight.</p> + +<p>It was the night, the long silence alone, that she was beginning to +dread. And those who dread the night show the lines of fear on their +faces during the day. They laugh, they join in the general sport, their +gait is light, their clothes may be gay, but at the back of their eyes, +the sympathetic can see the previous night's vigil; and it is the +haunting fear of experiencing it again that gives their voices, their +words, their very laughter that ring of overanxiousness, that stamp of +heavily overtaxed bravery.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra dreaded the night; but she also dreaded the dawn. Denis, +sunburnt, athletic, efficient at everything he undertook, Denis +ironical, pensive, independent, Denis revealed anew to her in a way she +had least expected, was obviously either humouring a flapper most +shamelessly—or—or——</p> + +<p>The alternative could not be articulated. To have pronounced it would +have lent it a reality that it must not possess. It was, however, in the +effort not to frame the alternative that her vigils were kept. And it is +extraordinary how one can perspire even on the coolest night over such +an effort.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>"Peachy, what do you think has happened? Oh, <i>do</i> guess!"</p> + +<p>The voice was Leonetta's. The question was followed by a laugh, a laugh +that spoke at once of triumph and merriment.</p> + +<p>It was lunch-time on the morning of the ninth day of their holiday. Mrs. +Delarayne, in the garden of "The Fastness," was stretched on her +<i>chaise-longue</i> reading. Beside her Cleopatra, who had not felt inclined +for a bathe that morning, and who, therefore, had not been into +Stonechurch, was working at some fancy embroidery.</p> + +<p>"I haven't any idea," Mrs. Delarayne replied, as Leonetta stalked up the +garden path with Denis at her side, followed by Vanessa, Guy Tyrrell, +and the Fearwells. They all had their wet bathing things with them, and +even the matronly Vanessa had her hair hanging over her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Why, the man in the sweetstuff shop at the corner of the High Street +took Denis and me for husband and wife!" Leonetta exclaimed, bursting +with laughter once more.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra's hand shook a little, but she did not look up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He probably noticed us waiting outside and thought you were the +schoolmistress of the party,—that's all," interjected Vanessa.</p> + +<p>Everybody laughed except Leonetta.</p> + +<p>"That's absurd," she protested, "because he could scarcely have thought +I could be——"</p> + +<p>But her voice was drowned by more laughter, led chiefly by Vanessa.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, it's not worth arguing about, any way," said the Jewess, +twirling her bathing dress round very rapidly.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that!" cried Leonetta sharply. "Can't you see that you're +simply drenching poor Peachy?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne smiled imperceptibly at this remark, and all the bathers +ran off to prepare for lunch.</p> + +<p>"I think," said the widow to her elder daughter, "that it would have +been only considerate if Denis had offered to stay behind to keep you +company this morning."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra, bundling up her work with lightning speed, rose. Her ears +were hot and red, and she could not let her mother see her face.</p> + +<p>"Do you,—oh, well, I don't," she said a little tetchily, and made +rapidly towards the house.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne stared sadly after her. Had she said anything +offensive?—Children were difficult, very difficult, she thought; and +she longed for the freedom and the society of her London home.</p> + +<p>"I think I made Denis rather savage this morn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>ing," Leonetta was +explaining to Vanessa, meanwhile, as the two were arranging their hair +in the bedroom they shared.</p> + +<p>Vanessa, stopping her operations for a moment, turned and regarded her +friend with some interest.</p> + +<p>"When and where?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Well, you know that awfully good-looking boy who was sitting on the +bench when we bathed yesterday——"</p> + +<p>Vanessa nodded in her business-like way.</p> + +<p>"Well, didn't you notice that he bathed at the same time as we did +to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought I saw him," replied Vanessa.</p> + +<p>"And he kept standing in the water," Leonetta continued, "with his arms +folded, staring at me. He looked most awfully wicked,—it was lovely!" +she cried laughing.</p> + +<p>"But where does Denis come in?" enquired the Jewess, who was not too +prone to jump to hasty conclusions concerning other people's triumphs.</p> + +<p>"Well, don't you see,—Denis saw him, and saw that I sometimes stared +back at him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that all?" Vanessa exclaimed, with a somewhat exaggerated note +of disappointment in her voice. "But did he say anything then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, after the bathe," Leonetta rejoined, dropping her voice to a +whisper, "he asked me whether I knew that strange young man."</p> + +<p>"Well?" Vanessa demanded, still retaining the note of disappointed +expectancy in her voice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's all," Leonetta replied, conscious that Vanessa had ruined the +effect of her little narrative.</p> + +<p>For some moments Vanessa silently continued her toilet; then when she +was quite ready to go downstairs, she sat down and waited for her +friend.</p> + +<p>"Are you fond of Denis?" she enquired at last.</p> + +<p>"He's not bad," replied Leonetta carelessly. "What do you think he +thinks of me?"</p> + +<p>Vanessa's keen Jewish features became inscrutable in a moment, and her +eyes turned as it were indifferently to the window. A week ago she might +have replied that Denis was obviously "smitten"; but four days of almost +total neglect and really formidable rivalry are hard to forgive, even +when one flatters oneself that one is "above" such treatment.</p> + +<p>"He certainly seems to be amused by you," she said cryptically.</p> + +<p>Leonetta did not like this way of putting it, and the conversation +therefore ceased to interest her. "Are you coming?" she said, and made +towards the door.</p> + +<p>In another room Cleopatra had been listening to Agatha Fearwell's +account of what had occurred at Stonechurch that morning, and the facts +she culled from the girl's guileless and unsuspecting statement had not +reassured her.</p> + +<p>"Cleo, what on earth's the matter?" Agatha cried suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Why—what?" Cleopatra rejoined, bracing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> herself, but turning a drawn +and haggard face, that had just grown unusually pale, to her friend.</p> + +<p>"My dear, aren't you well?"</p> + +<p>"Quite," replied Cleopatra, parting her lips in a faint, hardly +convincing smile.</p> + +<p>"But you can't be,—sit down, do!" said Agatha.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra made a stupendous effort to recover herself, which was +singularly reminiscent of her undefeated mother. "The heat, I suppose," +she observed.</p> + +<p>But Agatha was not satisfied. She was too intelligent to be silenced by +such an obvious feminine defence. She could not help drawing her own +conclusions, although Cleopatra's proud reserve forbade her asking any +further questions.</p> + +<p>Denis stayed to lunch at "The Fastness" that day, and in the afternoon +there was tennis. The beautiful weather still continuing, Mrs. Delarayne +was loath to join Sir Joseph on his interminable excursions by car. He +had her sister with him, and the Tribes, and she had also sent Vanessa, +of whom he had grown very fond, to represent her. "If people will keep a +lot of fat chauffeurs who must be occupied," she said, "I don't see why +I should be compelled to bore myself for hours at a time on that +account." However, they were all returning to "The Fastness" to tea that +afternoon.</p> + +<p>So she reclined on her <i>chaise-longue</i> in one of the shady corners of +her garden behind the lawn, reading the latest of Richard Latimer's +novels, and there very soon Cleopatra joined her. Between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> them stood an +occasional table, and upon it were tumblers, a few bottles of ale, and a +glass jug containing still lemonade.</p> + +<p>A moment before Agatha had had five minutes' private conversation with +Mrs. Delarayne, and the latter was looking a trifle serious when her +daughter joined her.</p> + +<p>"Cleo, my dear," she began, "you look tired,—been overdoing it?"</p> + +<p>"I have a headache," Cleopatra retorted impatiently.</p> + +<p>No more than Agatha was Mrs. Delarayne likely to be satisfied with this +reply. She saw now that Agatha had been right, and blamed herself for +her blindness hitherto.</p> + +<p>"I don't like you to be so interested in that silly needlework," she +added. "You are not yourself, or you would not work so ridiculously +fast."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Cleo, do you hear me?" she cried. "I'm speaking to you. Look up?—Why +are you so silent?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edith, for Heaven's sake!" exclaimed the distracted girl. "I don't +think I could have slept well last night—that's all."</p> + +<p>"Why aren't you Denis's partner at tennis?"</p> + +<p>"For the simple reason," Cleopatra replied, with a self-revelatory glare +in her eyes, "that Baby is!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne turned to her novel for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> moment. "Who's Agatha playing +with?" she enquired at last.</p> + +<p>"With Guy of course."</p> + +<p>"And where's Stephen?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's somewhere. I believe he's cleaning his motor-cycle."</p> + +<p>At this point Guy's voice was heard from the lawn:</p> + +<p>"We're thirty and Leonetta and Denis are love!"</p> + +<p>Cleopatra made a violent movement with her foot, and accidently kicked +the table so that all the tumblers rang in unison.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Cleo, my dear!—do be careful!" the widow exclaimed. "What have you +done?"</p> + +<p>"It's nothing, Edith—nothing."</p> + +<p>"Forty—love," cried Guy Tyrrell.</p> + +<p>"The terminology of tennis is at times a little tiresome," thought Mrs. +Delarayne.</p> + +<p>"You must play in the next game," she said, regarding her daughter a +little anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sick of tennis," Cleopatra sighed. "I hate all games."</p> + +<p>"You used to like it so!" her mother expostulated.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly there came the sound of shrieks from the direction of the +lawn, and Guy's voice was heard again: "I say, Denis, old man," it said, +"do attend to the game, please; you can flirt with Leonetta later on."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra put down her embroidery with a jerk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> and pressed a hand +spasmodically to her brow. "Don't you think it's dreadfully hot here?" +she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne frowned. "My dear, you couldn't have a cooler place in +all Brineweald. Take some lemonade." Then after a pause during which she +made another brief examination of her daughter's looks, she added: "I +certainly think you ought to go and lie down; but I do wish they +wouldn't shout so."</p> + +<p>Then she took up her novel again.</p> + +<p>A few minutes passed thus, Mrs. Delarayne pretending to read, and +wondering all the while whether Agatha had not perhaps overstated +Cleopatra's trouble; and Cleopatra working frantically like one who is +determined not to think at all.</p> + +<p>All of a sudden Leonetta came racing down the path from the lawn, and +dashed past her mother and sister, with Denis close at her heels.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne looked up, and her expression was one of annoyance. She +saw Denis catch her younger daughter just as she reached the shrubbery +concealing the kitchen end of the house from the garden.</p> + +<p>"Leo, will you give that up!" panted Denis.</p> + +<p>They were only a few yards away, and Mrs. Delarayne followed the whole +proceeding with a frown. "Well, tell me first what it is!" rejoined the +flapper, holding her hands behind her back, and smiling defiantly at +him.</p> + +<p>"I thought you two were playing tennis," Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> Delarayne cried aloud, +with just a suggestion of indignation, and craning her neck so as to be +seen by them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we've done with that long ago," Leonetta replied, obviously a +little excited.</p> + +<p>"It's my note-book," said Denis, "it must have fallen out of my pocket." +He caught the girl by the arm, and she laughed. Then quickly shaking him +off, she dashed up the garden with Denis close behind her.</p> + +<p>"The game of chasing and being chased," said a familiar voice, and +Cleopatra looked up. It was Vanessa, followed by all the motoring party.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the oldest game of mankind," added Sir Joseph.</p> + +<p>"And one of which I suppose the human female never grows tired," Mrs. +Delarayne observed rising.</p> + +<p>"Any excuse will do," Vanessa continued, resting a hand gently on +Cleopatra's shoulder. "Won't it, Cleo dear?"</p> + +<p>Cleopatra darted up, saw that her mother was too much engaged greeting +the party from the Park to notice her disappearance, and made rapidly +towards the house.</p> + +<p>"Isn't Cleo well?" Miss Mallowcoid demanded, her eyebrows high up in her +fringe with indignant surprise.</p> + +<p>"It surely isn't as bad as all that!" ejaculated the unfortunate widow. +"Do you notice it too?"</p> + +<p>"It certainly is very noticeable, I should have thought," Vanessa +remarked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne then begged the young Jewess to find out what Cleopatra +was doing, and to persuade her if possible to lie down. She thereupon +conducted her guests to a small marquee where tea was laid, and called +to the tennis-players to join them.</p> + +<p>In a moment Vanessa returned.</p> + +<p>"She doesn't want me," she exclaimed. "She says she wants to be alone."</p> + +<p>"But isn't she going to have any tea?" cried Mrs. Delarayne shrilly.</p> + +<p>"Later on, she said," the Jewess replied.</p> + +<p>"How full of caprice these young things are!" interjected Miss +Mallowcoid. "Why, she did not even wish us good-day!"</p> + +<p>"The truth is," said Mrs. Delarayne, "Cleo hates being ill, and probably +wished to avoid being asked questions."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how natural that is!" Mrs. Tribe observed, glancing half fearfully +at Miss Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>"You've made this place look very pretty," said Sir Joseph, smiling +unctuously at his hostess; "charming, charming! A perfect setting for +a—for a precious——"</p> + +<p>"Here, you want some refreshment," snapped Miss Mallowcoid gruffly. +"Edith, where's Sir Joseph's cup?"</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph laughed a little boisterously, and the tennis players +arrived.</p> + +<p>"Where's Cleo?" was Leonetta's first question. She looked hot and +excited, but extremely happy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid explained that Cleo was in one of her "precious" moods, +as she put it. She had never been a great favourite with her nieces, and +since the fuel of affection is so largely a distillation of vanity, she +did not feel much love towards them. Her remark, however, succeeded in +making Mrs. Delarayne fill Sir Joseph's saucer with tea.</p> + +<p>"That's not kind," said the widow, glaring first at her sister and then +at Denis. "Cleo, I'm afraid, is not very well."</p> + +<p>"The heat perhaps," lisped the Incandescent Gerald.</p> + +<p>"And other things," added Agatha, in her quiet, eloquent way.</p> + +<p>Her brother Stephen stared perplexedly at her for some seconds, and then +looked round the party with an air of utter bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Ah, these young people will do too much!" Sir Joseph remarked solemnly. +Then turning to his hostess he added: "It was the same at the time of +the bicycle craze in the early nineties,—but you would scarcely +remember that, my dear lady!"</p> + +<p>"What!" ejaculated Miss Mallowcoid. "Edith not remember the bicycle +craze of the nineties! My dear Sir Joseph, what absurd rubbish!"</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid was beginning to make her sister feel what the doctors +call "febrile."</p> + +<p>"You so frequently jump at wrong conclusions in your efforts to set the +world right, my dear Bella," she said with bitter precision. "Surely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +one's life may be so full of other preoccupations that one can forget +even the most startling events."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see what you mean," said Miss Mallowcoid, speaking with her mouth +full of very dry short-bread, "I didn't know he meant it in that way."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph was about to exclaim that he did not, as a matter of fact, +mean it "in that way"; but realising the hyperbolic quality of his +intended compliment, he preferred to appear eager to swallow the end of +a chocolate <i>éclair</i> rather than attempt to explain.</p> + +<p>At this point Denis was observed to try and snatch back a piece of cake +that Leonetta had, in keeping with her customary tactics, previously +taken from his plate. In doing so, however, he struck the top of the +milk jug with his elbow, and the vessel toppled over and emptied itself +upon his own and Leonetta's clothes.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne flushed a little in anger. At any other time she would +have laughed with the rest over such an incident, but in the +circumstances it was too intimately connected with the cause of her +anxiety to be passed over in silence.</p> + +<p>"Leo, you really are a pest," she exclaimed. "You simply cannot leave +Denis alone one minute. Really, Denis, if you'll excuse my being +outspoken, I'm surprised at your encouraging the child!"</p> + +<p>"What it is to be young and good-looking!" sighed Vanessa, casting a +sidelong glance at the young gentleman in question.</p> + +<p>"All right, Peachy!" Leonetta snapped, vexed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> and almost outraged by her +mother's bald statement of the plain truth, "it's only an accident; you +needn't be so cross."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne was on the point of administering a stinging lesson to +her flapper daughter,—a lesson which that young person would certainly +have remembered to the end of her days,—when, suddenly, Wilmott +appeared on the lawn in front of the marquee.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Wilmott, what is it?" Mrs. Delarayne enquired irritably.</p> + +<p>"If you please, mum, will you come and see Miss Cleopatra; she's fallen +down in the billiard-room."</p> + +<p>"Fallen down in the billiard-room?" everybody repeated.</p> + +<p>The whole party were on their legs in an instant.</p> + +<p>"Now, what are you all going to do?" cried Mrs. Delarayne, never more +herself than when a heavy demand was laid upon her self-possession. +"Please remain where you are, and get on with your tea. I'll go and see +what's happened. Agatha!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne and Agatha, followed by Wilmott, went back to the house, +and, as they went, the maid explained that it was a wonder Miss +Cleopatra had not killed herself, as her head "was quite close up +against the fender."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>That evening, on the terrace of Brineweald Park, where the whole party +had dined, Mrs. Delarayne and Sir Joseph sat solemnly talking.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You will have to do something, Joseph," the widow was saying. "He's +certainly in your power. Convey to him by some means that he cannot play +fast and loose in this way. He accepted the rise of two hundred on the +understanding that he would marry."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear Edith, I can't exactly make him marry, can I?" Sir Joseph +protested.</p> + +<p>"But he has not even proposed yet!" the lady cried.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph grunted.</p> + +<p>"Instead, if you please, he is making a fool of himself with Leo, and +turning her into an insufferable little prig."</p> + +<p>"Not really!"</p> + +<p>"Really!"</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph grunted again.</p> + +<p>"It's making Cleopatra quite ill. Agatha says it is, and I'm sure she's +right. She fainted in the billiard-room this afternoon and her head was +within an inch of the fender. The poor girl almost killed herself. +Besides, I hate a child to have her head turned by a man of thirty. It's +such easy going for him, and she's too young to know the difference +between an actor and a coachman."</p> + +<p>"I'll see what I can do," said the baronet, stirring himself a little. +"But you'll admit the position is delicate."</p> + +<p>"It's so absurd, because Leonetta has not got the marks of the cradle +off her back yet."</p> + +<p>"A child as fascinating as her dear mother," Sir Joseph interposed, +taking the widow's hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> + +<p>She brushed his fingers from her. "I've lost patience with him," she +cried. "What is it makes these young Englishmen always abandon +full-blown maturity for flapperdom? I suppose it is the tradition of +their manufacturing race to worship raw material."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's not in love with her," Sir Joseph objected.</p> + +<p>In another part of the park Miss Mallowcoid, Agatha, and Cleopatra were +walking arm-in-arm. Miss Mallowcoid, always stirred to some act of +self-sacrificing devotion by the sight of genuine illness, was making it +her duty to give her niece a little healthy exercise before going to +bed. Cleopatra would have given a good deal to escape this determined +altruism on her aunt's part, but Miss Mallowcoid was not so easily +thwarted in the practice of her virtues.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Denis, surrounded by the rest of the party, was indulging in +a form of amusement that he had popularised of late among the younger +members of the two households. It consisted in a sort of uneven +cock-fight between himself and Gerald Tribe, on the question of +religion, and it was punctuated by roars of laughter from Leonetta, +Vanessa, Guy Tyrrell, and even Stephen Fearwell; while the unfortunate +Mrs. Tribe, feeling that her husband was being made to look ridiculous +for the edification of the rest of the party, would repeatedly interrupt +the proceedings by urging her spouse to "come to bed." This, however, +he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> always resolutely refused to do, much to the satisfaction of +everybody present; and the unequal contest would be continued.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the sensitive and sensible woman would interpolate a remark +which considerably discomfited her husband's aggressor; and then, hoping +to bring the controversy quickly to an end on this note of triumph, +would tug vigorously at his coat sleeve. But Incandescent Gerald, hot, +excited, beaten, and indignant, was not to be lured away to the marital +bed while he still smarted from his opponent's blows, and endeavouring +ever afresh to turn the tide of battle, would remain to blunder on into +another rout.</p> + +<p>At one moment on the evening of the day of Cleopatra's first fall, when +the laughter against him rose too high, the moon revealed to Stephen +Fearwell that tears of indignation were welling in Mrs. Tribe's eyes; +and then thinking of Miss Mallowcoid, and of how this one holiday in the +year, away from the hard spinster's cold tyranny, was being spoilt for +her by these evening debates, he rose smartly to his feet, clapped the +Incandescent Gerald on the back, and tugged at his collar.</p> + +<p>"Look here, sir," he cried, "you're beginning to interest me in this +Inner Light of yours. Come for a walk and tell me more about it. Perhaps +Mrs. Tribe will join us?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't take them away!" cried Guy Tyrrell, while Leonetta and +Vanessa moaned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sorry," said Stephen, "but I honestly want to hear all about it. Come +on, Tribe!"</p> + +<p>Incandescent Gerald rose, half dazed. He believed in his Inner Light, +whatever Denis might have to say against it, and he could hardly resist +Stephen's gratifying suggestion. He smiled guilelessly into the young +man's face, and he, Stephen, and Mrs. Tribe vanished into the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Stephen was a lout to go and do that!" Guy exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I think he noticed that Mrs. Tribe was beginning to cry," said Vanessa.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Nessy, you must be dreaming!" retorted Denis.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<p>In the full-grown schoolgirl, who stands on the threshold of womanhood, +we have a creature who, though probably admirably equipped with normal +or even supernormal passions, is, possibly owing to the accident of her +age and her position, less prone to be led by passion than by vanity in +her first affairs with the other sex.</p> + +<p>Standing on the threshold of life as she does, she may be a little too +eager to prove that she is fit for the game, fit for the thrills and +throbs of the great melodrama. Out of sheer anxiety therefore, without +any genuine desire to gratify a passion, but simply with the view of +giving her self-esteem the proof that she is mature, she may behave very +much as if her heart and passions were involved. And though, in later +life, she may develop into a supremely desirable woman, she behaves for +the nonce very much like those deplorable people who in all they think +and do are actuated by vanity alone.</p> + +<p>The dupe in such cases, the fool in such cases, the creature who, owing +to his gross misunderstanding of the situation, allows himself to be +persuaded by his vanity that he has stimulated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> <i>une grande passion</i> in +an unbroken filly, naturally deserves all he gets. Unfortunately, as the +world is at present constituted, his punishment, like that of the modern +co-respondent, always falls short of its proper severity.</p> + +<p>Now Denis Malster was certainly no fool,—nay, he was probably above the +average in intelligence; and yet the speed with which he had succeeded +in monopolising Leonetta's attention made him feel in his gratified +vanity, so immensely grateful to the girl, that willy-nilly, he found +himself drifting all too pleasantly along that warm and intoxicating +stream that the nineteenth century called "Love," without feeling either +the obligation or even the desire to realise calmly and dispassionately +what had actually happened.</p> + +<p>Quite recently she had even allowed him to kiss her. It was unspeakable +bliss, almost distressing in its transcendent quality. He "had such joy +of kissing her," he "had small care to sleep or feed. For the joy to +kiss between her brows time upon time" he "was well-nigh dead." How +could he be deceived by such unequivocal demonstrations of real passion? +In any case it was too wonderful to be wrong, and if wrong—what then? +The Devil was worth a score of heavens!</p> + +<p>He had not carelessly overlooked the other sister. He was not +absent-minded where she was concerned. He had resolutely cast her out of +his mind. With conscious deliberation he had banished her far beyond his +horizon. His only re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>maining difficulty was not to discover the nature +of his next step, but how to take it. He felt an irrevocable destiny +bidding him solicit Leonetta's hand, but he rightly foresaw that there +might be some difficulty where Mrs. Delarayne was concerned.</p> + +<p>It was because he happened to be in this mood of conscienceless desire, +unreflecting longing, that he had been able to listen calmly at the +table, the day before, while Wilmott announced Cleopatra's fall. Dimly +he had connected his behaviour with her indisposition; but the +temptation to continue along his present lines was too great to allow +him to dwell profitably upon that aspect of the situation.</p> + +<p>Now again, just after he had come down from Brineweald Park to "The +Fastness," as was his wont after breakfast, he had scarcely felt a fibre +of pity or remorse stir in his body while Mrs. Delarayne had described +Cleopatra's second fainting fit to him. He had expressed his sympathy +formally, conventionally, like one who had but a few moments to spare +for such considerations, and even before Mrs. Delarayne had completed +her narrative, had allowed his eyes to wander eagerly all over the +garden for a sign of Leonetta.</p> + +<p>Rigid and unmoved, he had seen the stir caused by the arrival of the +doctor, and later by the departure of Stephen Fearwell on his +motor-cycle with an urgent message from Mrs. Delarayne to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> Sir Joseph to +send one of his cars round at once for her immediate use.</p> + +<p>What the car was wanted for, how it was connected with Cleopatra's +illness, he hadn't either the inclination or the interest to discover; +he only deplored the destiny that caused Cleopatra's breakdown when, +suddenly, without Mrs. Delarayne's having made any mention of the plan +to him, Leonetta, dazzling, electrifying, and elfish as usual, tripped +out into the garden to whisper to him that her mother wished her to +drive with her to Ashbury at once.</p> + +<p>"To Ashbury—you—at once—with the Warrior?" he ejaculated. "Whatever +for?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Leonetta.</p> + +<p>"But it's impossible," he objected. "Can't you say you can't go?"</p> + +<p>"I wish I could."</p> + +<p>"But why should the old Warrior want to take precisely you to Ashbury?" +he pursued.</p> + +<p>"I only know," she replied, "that Lord Henry's Sanatorium is at Ashbury, +and that Peachy's making far too much of Cleo's illness. Why, it's only +the heat."</p> + +<p>"How many miles is it to Ashbury?"</p> + +<p>"Seventeen to twenty, I believe."</p> + +<p>"So you'll be gone about two hours?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my darling,—cheer up."</p> + +<p>He smiled at these words, pressed her hand tenderly as he did so, and +heard the car glide round the drive.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good-bye, my goddess," he whispered.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly Mrs. Delarayne's head appeared at one of the bedroom +windows of the house.</p> + +<p>"Come in and get ready at once, Leonetta!" she called out angrily. "The +car has just arrived."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, my angel," she whispered, and ran in.</p> + +<p>It was eleven o'clock; they could be back for lunch. The Fearwells, +Vanessa, and Guy Tyrrell had gone to Stonechurch for a bathe. The whole +place was a desert. He thought he might go for a walk, and entered the +house to fetch his hat and stick. But he hesitated; he felt so desolate +alone. The sound, however, of another car in the drive outside, and Sir +Joseph's voice giving instructions to the chauffeur, brought him quickly +to his senses, and snatching his hat down, he ran out of the house, +through the garden, and out into the meadows beyond.</p> + +<p>It was a glorious day. He had no wish to try to account for his +reluctance to meet his chief alone at that moment, and as he swung his +stick and whistled on his walk, he tried to convince himself that he +could afford to snap his fingers at the powerful City magnate.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Meanwhile Mrs. Delarayne and Leonetta were racing along as swiftly as +Sir Joseph's head chauffeur dared to go. The road and the hedges on +either side seemed to be simply a green-edged ribbon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> which the bonnet +of the car cut into two gigantic streamers that flew for miles and miles +behind them. Villages were skirted as far as possible, and appeared to +be packed hurriedly away like so much stage scenery. Narrow bridges and +awkward turnings were negotiated at top speed, and seemed to be cleared +more by good luck than skilled driving; but still the pace was not +sufficiently hard for Mrs. Delarayne, who, sitting almost erect in the +car, with neck craned and eyes fixed on the farthest horizon, spoke +scarcely a word to her companion.</p> + +<p>The mother instinct had been roused in the heart of this elegant, +youth-loving widow,—that, and also the complex emotions provoked by the +fact that, since her last momentous interview with Lord Henry, she had +not heard from him.</p> + +<p>It had cost her a good deal to decide upon this step. For reasons which +she had refrained from investigating, she had not introduced Lord Henry +to her daughters. At first the omission had been the outcome of a series +of pure accidents, quite beyond her control. Then, as she acquired the +habit of meeting him alone, or at least unaccompanied by her offspring, +her relationship to him had at last seemed to derive part of its +essential character from this very exclusiveness. He appeared to belong +to her. The thought of one of her daughters becoming perhaps attached to +him filled her with vague qualms, as if her relationship to him would +thereby be marred. Thenceforward intention or design began to take the +place of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> accident, and her daughters had been rigorously excluded +whenever Lord Henry and the widow met.</p> + +<p>And now, in a moment of stress, in a mood of deep anxiety concerning a +daughter who, despite the radical difficulty of daughter-and-mother +relationships, had been on the whole singularly devoted and sensible, +she had resolved to reverse the old order, to invite Lord Henry to "The +Fastness," and thus necessarily to let her daughters meet him.</p> + +<p>The sight of the blundering local practitioner that morning had revealed +to her the danger of excluding Lord Henry any longer from her family +affairs. Her difficulties had become too heavy. She knew that he and he +alone could assist her; and she determined to enlist his help. Thus her +principal "secret" man, the most cherished of all her clandestine male +attachments, was to be brought by her own hand, by her own act and +exertion, into the presence of charms far more magnetic, far more +irresistible than any she could now hope to wield, and which were all +the more apparent to her for being so much like her own. This was indeed +a surrender of principle which showed that Mrs. Delarayne's maternal +instinct had been moved to action; but its energy in this case, +creditable as it was, fell so far short of what it might have been in +the case of a beloved son, that the widow far from being happy, was +conscious only of being urged by painful duty upon the errand she was +now fulfilling.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>The presence of Leonetta in the car, though an insoluble mystery to the +child herself, was accounted for simply as an obvious manœuvre on the +part of an angry and ingenious woman of the world, to retaliate to some +extent upon the chief cause of all her trouble, the annoyance and +disturbance he had occasioned her. But she was too sensible to upbraid +the girl herself. She knew how fatally decisive opposition might prove +at this stage in Leonetta's sudden excitement over Denis Malster, and +she resolved to be guided in the whole of the complicated business by +the sure hand of Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>To Leonetta's secretly guilty heart, however, her mother's silence +seemed to remove the one possible explanation that yet remained for her +having been made to drive to Ashbury; and by the time three quarters of +the journey had been accomplished, she resigned herself to a mood of +mystified boredom.</p> + +<p>Occasionally her mother would mutter anxiously: "I wonder whether Lord +Henry will be in";—but that was all. Her affability and good nature +seemed to be the same as usual.</p> + +<p>At last the car drew up at the northern outskirts of Ashbury, before a +building that appeared to Leonetta as unlike her mental image of a +sanatorium as anything could possibly be. It was a large building with a +white stucco front, badly cracked all over,—evidently a sort of old +manor house of about the period of George IV,—and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> sight of the +smart motor cars drawn up on either side of the road in front of its +partly dilapidated gate, seemed but to enhance the general impression of +decay which characterised both the house and its surroundings.</p> + +<p>The string of cars, however, brought a smile to Mrs. Delarayne's lips, +for they showed that Lord Henry's clinique was open that day.</p> + +<p>"Now wait for me here, in the car," she said in her most positive +manner, "however long I am."</p> + +<p>Leonetta and Cleopatra knew from experience that when their mother spoke +in this way she would brook no disobedience; and so throwing off her +dust cloak, Leonetta settled herself in the car to see what interest she +could derive from watching the activity at the gate.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne's card sufficed to bring the matron hurrying down with +the assurance that Lord Henry would see her next. He was very busy, and +had been hard at work for at least a fortnight. There was a room full of +people waiting.</p> + +<p>"Unusually hard at work!" Mrs. Delarayne observed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the matron, "quite exceptional."</p> + +<p>"And why is that?" the widow enquired.</p> + +<p>"We think it is the heat. The dog days seem somehow to increase nervous +trouble in quite a number of people,—at least so Lord Henry says."</p> + +<p>"Then you may be sure it is so," said Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> Delarayne emphatically. She +was taken to a private room, and there in a few minutes Lord Henry +joined her.</p> + +<p>He listened with his usual earnestness to all she had to tell him, and +learned as much as he could from the description of her untrained +observation of Cleopatra's symptoms.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Lord Henry,—do tell me,—that makes grown-up men of the +present day so susceptible to raw flappers? You surely have an +explanation!"</p> + +<p>"I have," Lord Henry replied, smiling in his malicious way. "It is +accounted for by the whole trend of modern sentiment and modern +prejudice. It is in the air. It is the result of the nineteenth +century's absurd exaltation of rude untrammelled nature. It really +amounts to anarchy, because it is always accompanied by a certain +feeling of hostility towards law and culture. Hence the love of wild +rugged moors and mountains which is a modern mania."</p> + +<p>"Oh, didn't the ancients admire these things?" the lady exclaimed a +little crestfallen.</p> + +<p>"Of course they didn't," Lord Henry replied. "Hence, too, the ridiculous +present-day exaltation of childhood, because children are stupidly +supposed to trail 'clouds of glory' from whence they come, as that old +spinster Wordsworth assures us. In fact everything immature or +uncultivated is supposed to be sacrosanct. Of course that young man, +Denis Malster, must be a sentimentalist, too,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> and he probably wants +kicking badly; but it is not entirely his fault. The sentiment, as I +say, is in the air. We are all threatened with infection. They had it in +the eighteenth century in France."</p> + +<p>"What can I do?" Mrs. Delarayne demanded.</p> + +<p>"Nothing!"</p> + +<p>"But I can't let Cleopatra fall about in all directions,—she'll kill +herself."</p> + +<p>"What did the doctor say?"</p> + +<p>"Need you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Prescribed iron and strychnine, I suppose. Or did he suggest cold +baths?"</p> + +<p>"No, as you say, he prescribed iron, quinine, and strychnine."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry glanced at his note-book.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I am absolutely full up. But—but——"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne fidgeted.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I shall have to come if I'm to do any good. My senior +assistant here will have to do the best he can, that's all."</p> + +<p>Although Mrs. Delarayne was quite prepared for this, she had hoped even +until the last that Lord Henry might be able to treat Cleopatra from a +distance, and that she would therefore be spared the duty of having him +at Brineweald. It was a hard pill to swallow, but she took it +gracefully.</p> + +<p>"When can you come?" she asked with forced cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>"Can you send the car for me at about quarter to eight this evening?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne promised to do this, and the young man rose.</p> + +<p>She held his hand for some time as they said good-bye, and gazed +longingly into his face. It seemed to her that after this last meeting, +alone, on their old terms, nothing could any longer be quite the same. +He would become the friend of other members of her family. He would no +longer be her private refuge, her nook-and-corner intimate, her own +friend, her secret.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry," she pleaded on their way downstairs, "would you advise me +to say anything to Leonetta?"</p> + +<p>"What can you say?" he protested.</p> + +<p>"My sister says I ought to scold the child for what she calls her 'fast' +way with young men."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" Lord Henry exclaimed. "What can you tell the girl?—to +be less fascinating, to be less beautiful, to be less full of life? That +would be as futile as it would be deforming. You can only watch her so +that she does not come to harm, or fall into the hands of a villain. You +cannot moralise. I think you have been wonderful to restrain yourself so +far. But continue doing so."</p> + +<p>"You see, I remember what I was at her age!" the widow admitted +bashfully.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry laughed, and in a moment she laughed with him.</p> + +<p>He accompanied her to the door, and feeling very much relieved she +rejoined her daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>At half-past four that afternoon, just as the car bearing away Lord +Henry's last out-patient, had glided out of the drive, he sent for St. +Maur.</p> + +<p>The day had been a particularly heavy one. Unfortunate, miserable, and +beautiful girls, with everything they could wish for, had come in their +dozens for the last month, with nervous tics that utterly marred their +beauty and blighted their lives. He had seen no less than three that +day. Business men, Army men, clergymen, married women, mothers, each +with some kind of nervous catch in their voices, uncontrollable spasms +in their limbs, stammers, or obsessions,—everyone was now beginning to +hear of Lord Henry's wonderful success in dealing with such cases, and +he was getting inconveniently busy.</p> + +<p>Only a few were perhaps aware that he derived most of his skill in the +handling of these nervous disorders from the teaching of a certain +Austrian Jew of brilliant genius; but even those who knew this fact also +recognised that he had shown such enormous ability in adapting the +principles of his Semitic master to modern English conditions that he +was entitled to be regarded quite as much as an innovator as a disciple.</p> + +<p>What Lord Henry had done could have been accomplished only by an +Englishman of exceptional intelligence. He had discovered that the +almost universal feature of nervous abnormalities in England, which were +not the outcome of trauma or congenital disease, arose out of the +national<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> characteristic of "consuming one's own smoke." He had been the +first to demonstrate with scientific precision that the suppression of +Catholicism in England, with its concomitant proscription of the +confessional box from the churches, had laid the foundation of three +quarters of the nation's nervous disabilities. He had thus called +attention to yet one more objectionable and stupid feature of the +Protestant Church, and one which was perhaps more nauseating, more +sordid, than any to which his friend Dr. Melhado was so fond of +pointing. Thus he called his sanatorium in Kent "The Confessional," and +his methods, there, followed pretty closely the methods of the mediæval +Church.</p> + +<p>He would point out that it was this absence of the rite of confession +that made people in Protestant countries so conspicuously more +self-conscious than the inhabitants of Catholic countries. For nothing +leads to self-consciousness more certainly than the attempt constantly +to consume one's own smoke.</p> + +<p>"The independence, individualism, and natural secrecy of the English +character, together with the enormous amount of sex suppression that +English Puritanism involves," he used frequently to say, "leads to an +incredible amount of consumption of their own smoke by millions of the +English people. Large numbers of these people are able to digest the +fumes, others fall ill with nervous trouble owing to the poison +contained in the vapours they try to dispose of in secrecy."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>His startling successes had all been based upon the recognition of this +fundamental fact. "But," as he said, "instead of these people keeping +well through the ordinary exercise of their religion, they have, owing +to their absurd Protestant beliefs, to pay me through the nose for +providing them with a scientific instead of a sacerdotal confessional +box."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the hard work was beginning to tell, and as he waited for +St. Maur and recalled the circumstances of Mrs. Delarayne's visit, it +struck him that it would not be unwise to avail himself of that lady's +need of him in order perhaps to take a short holiday.</p> + +<p>Truth to tell, he was a little satiated with Society's nervous wrecks. +You cannot hold your nose for long over any kind of smoke without being +nauseated; but the fumes which men and women have tried to consume +themselves, and failed, have this peculiarity, that they are perhaps +more fœtid, more unsavoury, more asphyxiating, than any that can be +produced by the combustion of the most obnoxious and malodorous +chemicals.</p> + +<p>St. Maur observed his friend's condition as he entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Hard day?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Very."</p> + +<p>"I thought so. Cheques have been coming in pretty plentifully too. Any +celebrities?"</p> + +<p>"One M.P. and one Canon,—the rest ordinary, or rather extraordinary men +and women. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> don't let us talk about it; my stomach's turned as it +is. I'm going to take a few days' holiday, Aubrey."</p> + +<p>St. Maur in his astonishment had to sit down.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Delarayne has just been here. Her daughter seems to be an +interesting case of self-surrender and inversion of reproductive +instinct owing to repeated rebuffs. She is now at the self-immolating +stage. Rather dangerous. Falls about. Her knees give way. Might cut her +head open. Great struggle for supremacy apparently with flapper sister. +Both passionate girls, of course. Only thrown up sponge after hard and +unsuccessful fight. Local doctor orders iron, quinine, and strychnine. +It's a wonder he didn't order brimstone and treacle. Mother doesn't +understand the condition at all, but is sufficiently wise to suspect +that the behaviour of a certain young man with fascinating flapper +sister may be contributory."</p> + +<p>"Can't she come here?" asked St. Maur.</p> + +<p>"Well, she could. But it is one of those cases in which, if I want to do +any real good, I must watch conditions on the spot."</p> + +<p>"When do you leave?"</p> + +<p>"In an hour or two. The car's coming to fetch me."</p> + +<p>He rose, looked down with grave disapproval at his baggy trousers, and +flicked a speck or two of dust from his jacket.</p> + +<p>"Aubrey, dear boy, I want you to make me look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> smart,—do you think it +can be managed?" He smiled in his irresistible way, and St. Maur had to +laugh too. "You evidently think it quite impossible," he added.</p> + +<p>"No, not at all, you ass!" St. Maur objected. "I'm always telling you +that you can look the smartest man in England if you choose. You fellows +who are habitually dowdy create a most tremendous effect when, for once, +you really dress in a rational fashion."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry scratched his head and glanced dubiously down at his clothes +again.</p> + +<p>"I suppose these would do," he said.</p> + +<p>St. Maur expostulated with scorn. "Where are all your things? You've got +some presentable clothes, only you never wear them; or if you do, you +wear the wrong ties or the wrong shirts, or the wrong socks with them."</p> + +<p>"Have you got your crow's nest here?" Lord Henry demanded.</p> + +<p>St. Maur nodded.</p> + +<p>"Drive me to the cottage, then," said the elder man, throwing out his +arms dramatically, "and get me up to kill!"</p> + +<p>St. Maur was interested, and showed it in his glance.</p> + +<p>"Don't be alarmed, dear boy," said Lord Henry. "I may have to play a +part down at Brineweald."</p> + +<p>St. Maur did as he was bid, and the two spent about an hour and a half +in Lord Henry's bedroom,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> sorting out ties, collars, shirts, lounge +suits, dress clothes, and boots and shoes.</p> + +<p>At last Lord Henry was clothed, and, as St. Maur had truthfully +prophesied, looked the very paragon of a well-dressed man. Indeed, not +only was the contrast with his usual self so bewildering as to banish +all sense of proportion in estimating the splendour of his +transformation but the singular nobility of his face, with its wise, +youthful brow and deep, thoughtful eyes, also added such a curious +piquancy to his fashionable attire, that the general effect was little +short of startling. It is always so. Dress your scholar, your thinker, +your poet, in clothes that Saville Row has carefully designed and +carried out for a Society peacock, and the result is not a member of the +<i>phasianidæ</i>, but a golden eagle. It is as if the art of the tailor or +shirt maker were grateful for once to adorn something more than a mere +dandy. That depth of the eye, that wise and learned mouth, those +intelligent and almost understanding hands, the noble studious +brow,—all these embellishments added to the figure of the ordinary man, +give a certain finish to well-made garments, which these in their turn +impart to the aspect of the scholar; and the result is an effect of +completeness which is perhaps the highest product of the fashion, as +well as the taste, of any Age.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it is because it is so rarely seen that it is so overwhelmingly +attractive.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure this is right?" Lord Henry de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>manded, scrutinising his +image without a trace of recognition, in the long wardrobe mirror of his +room, and lightly fingering a tie that St. Maur had lent him.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" St. Maur cried in alarm; "for Heaven's sake don't touch it!"</p> + +<p>On the floor lay the young nobleman's portmanteau, partly filled with +St. Maur's shirts, collars, and ties; and in a large suit-case +sufficient clothes to provide him with decent variety. St. Maur had +drilled him carefully in the combination of socks, shirts, ties, and +suits, and had gone so far as to pack certain groups of things together, +in special sections, so that at Brineweald no mistake should be made.</p> + +<p>"You are a marvel, Aubrey!" ejaculated Lord Henry, twisting about in +front of the mirror. "I used to dress like this years ago, but I had +completely forgotten how to do it."</p> + +<p>"It's you who are the marvel," St. Maur exclaimed, contemplating his +friend with a critical and approving eye.</p> + +<p>They returned to the Sanatorium to partake of a light dinner. The porter +stared as he opened the door, and could scarcely believe his eyes. The +matron was unusually self-conscious as she received the parting +instructions from her chief, and the nurses all turned their heads in +Lord Henry's direction as they sped hither and thither, unable to +understand the meaning or the object of the strange metamorphosis.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The gorgeous vestments of the priest are all part of the general +scheme," Lord Henry whispered to St. Maur, as he stepped into Sir +Joseph's car.</p> + +<p>"Rather!" St. Maur cried after him; and in a few moments the car was +well on its way.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<p>Except to Sir Joseph, Mrs. Delarayne had revealed nothing about the +nature of her journey to Ashbury to any member of the party at +Brineweald. Lord Henry's visit was to be a surprise. She wished to +safeguard Cleopatra from all suspicion that his arrival that evening +might be connected with her indisposition, and contented herself with +assuring her child that, having heard that he was overworked and very +much run down, she had gone over to him in order to urge him to take a +holiday. She merely hoped, she said, that he would be able to follow her +advice and come to Brineweald.</p> + +<p>The afternoon was spent by the whole of the two households in paying a +visit to Canterbury. Under Mrs. Delarayne's vigilant eye, Leonetta and +Denis Malster had therefore been very discreet, and as the cars returned +in the evening, Sir Joseph was firmly of the opinion that his idol had, +with her customary art, slightly exaggerated the attentions which his +private secretary was paying to her younger daughter.</p> + +<p>Dinner at Brineweald Park was over, the younger people, except +Cleopatra, who had gone to bed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> had dispersed themselves over the +grounds as usual and Mrs. Delarayne, Miss Mallowcoid, and Sir Joseph +were sitting on the terrace finishing their coffee, when Sir Joseph's +head chauffeur was seen walking towards the steps with his junior, +bearing Lord Henry's Gladstone bag and suit-case.</p> + +<p>"Where did you leave Lord Henry?" Mrs. Delarayne cried.</p> + +<p>"He told me to drive straight to the garage, ma'am," replied the man, +"and bring the luggage here by hand."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Sir Joseph exclaimed, in the bullying tones he usually adopted +with his servants; "but can't you answer a question? Where did you leave +his lordship?"</p> + +<p>"He left the car at the Brineweald Gate," the man answered, "and said he +would take a walk in the grounds, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right!" Mrs. Delarayne remarked, and the men moved on +with their load.</p> + +<p>It was twilight. The lady scanned the stretch of park that lay before +her, and discovering no sign of life, turned to Sir Joseph.</p> + +<p>"I hope he will find his way," she said.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't possibly help it, I should have thought," snapped Miss +Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but he's so tiresome sometimes," replied the widow. "He's so +incorrigibly absent-minded."</p> + +<p>Brineweald Park was one of the largest in the whole of the West Kent +districts. Its confines stretched to the straggling outskirts of four +vil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>lages: Brineweald to the south-west, Hedlinge to the north, +Headstone to the east, and Sandlewood to the south-east. Paths cutting +diagonally through the Park, at a respectful distance from the house, +joined all these outlying places one to another, and the inhabitants of +all four villages were allowed a right of way, provided they conducted +themselves with due propriety and did no damage. It was a favourite +recreation ground for the children of the locality, but it was so vast +that it was but seldom a stranger was ever encountered in the grounds.</p> + +<p>The house, which was a large white building, three stories high, of +Georgian design, stood on an eminence overlooking the whole +country-side; and to the south a series of terraced lawns flanked by +steps descended as far as the broad drive leading to the Brineweald +Gate.</p> + +<p>A large wild and wooded tract lay in the direction of Sandlewood, where +Sir Joseph preserved his game, and where there were rabbits in +abundance; while joining Brineweald to Hedlinge there was a small +fast-running stream, called the Sprigg, which at certain points in its +course, fell in picturesque cascades, surmounted by rockeries and +ornamental foot-bridges. In the neighbourhood of these, on either bank, +Sir Joseph had also built seats and bowers, and in the summer these +resting-places were the coolest in the whole park.</p> + +<p>It was towards one of these cascades that, on the evening in question, +Lord Henry idly wandered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> The vast and peaceful expanse of the grounds +delighted him, and knowing the pertinacity and loquacity of his fair +admirer, he wished to have both his walk and his first view of his new +abode alone, before presenting himself at the house.</p> + +<p>Dimly in the gathering dusk, he discerned the outline of a rustic +bridge, and guided by the sound of plashing waters, directed his +footsteps towards it. Then above the murmur of the stream he heard the +ripple of a girl's ecstatic laughter, followed by what appeared to be +high words between two men, and then more laughter, followed by more +high words.</p> + +<p>There was evidently a party round the bridge, and they seemed to be +engaged in a fairly acrimonious discussion. He distinctly heard the +words, Inner Light, Incandescence, Spiritualism, God-head, First Cause.</p> + +<p>The argument was evidently religious, and it was conducted chiefly by +the men, with the rest of the party as audience and occasional chorus.</p> + +<p>He approached stealthily. A big dark shadow against the moonlit sky +gradually assumed definition on the other side of the stream. And from +the depths of that shadow came the voices to which he had been +listening.</p> + +<p>As he drew nearer, he recognised the shape of a bower in the mass of +shadow he had seen, and within it vaguely guessed the form of human +faces. It was evidently a large party. He could distinguish at least +half-a-dozen different voices.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> + +<p>He stepped on to the bridge, and leant against the rail. There was a +momentary pause in the discussion in the bower. Evidently its occupants +were taking stock of him. The subject of their argument, however, +interested him, and he stood motionless, hoping they would resume. He +could have represented but a shadow to them, even though the steadily +waxing light of the moon fell directly upon his head and shoulders; and +he rightly divined that, as other people besides the inhabitants of +Brineweald Park would probably enjoy the right of using the grounds, +they could not possibly tell who he was.</p> + +<p>Gradually the discussion was resumed.</p> + +<p>"What you don't seem to see," said a voice, which to Lord Henry appeared +to reveal the arrogance of its owner, "is that your Inner Light is but a +vague and vapid abstraction, a mere whiff of the whisky bottle, but not +the whisky itself."</p> + +<p>Here followed a delighted feminine laugh, full of music and malice.</p> + +<p>"And how do you hope," continued the arrogant voice, "ever to be able to +build anything upon a vaporous abstraction? What authority can a spook +have? What appeal to love, to fear, to reverence, to worship?"</p> + +<p>"Come to bed, Gerald!" said a rather sweet feminine voice, which was +half-drowned in the general laughter it seemed to provoke. "These +discussions never lead to anything, and I'm sick of them. They only +disturb your sleep."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Half a minute, Mrs. Tribe," said another man's voice, which Lord Henry +had not heard before, "we have reached an interesting point here. Do let +us just settle that!"</p> + +<p>"But my husband can only feel these things," continued the soft sweet +female voice, "he cannot argue about them. You only laugh at him, so +what's the good?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not laughing, am I?" said the arrogant voice.</p> + +<p>"No, but you make others laugh," persisted the soft sweet voice.</p> + +<p>"Leave them to me," interposed a weak male voice, which Lord Henry +recognised immediately as that of the Incandescent Gerald. And there was +a note so pathetic in the feeble strains of it, that the listener could +not help thinking of a hare being overtaken by harriers.</p> + +<p>"How can you invite the enlightened nineteenth century to accept the +idea of a godhead that is anything else than an abstraction?" continued +the weak male voice. "Why, to personify your god is to limit him. How +can a god be limited?"</p> + +<p>"Bravo, old Tribe!" cried a boy's voice, "that's a jolly good point. Now +what have you got to say to that, Malster?"</p> + +<p>"To understand him at all," replied the arrogant voice, which Lord Henry +now concluded must be Denis Malster's, "is in any case to limit him to +the compass of your understanding, even if that can only grasp a monkey +on a stick; so why not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> proceed to personal limitations at once? It +makes things much easier for the bulk of humanity, and it also makes +love and fear, and therefore morality possible. Without a personal god +you feel as if you are dealing only with a natural element, or natural +law. But who minds if the sea watched him while he picks his neighbour's +pocket? Who cares that the sky is overhearing him when he courts and +kisses his neighbour's wife?"</p> + +<p>The remark provoked wild outbursts of laughter, followed by the weak +voice, which said, "Don't, Agnes, don't fidget! Leave my coat-sleeve +alone!"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry having formed a fairly accurate estimate of the situation, +and realising that little Mrs. Tribe was evidently miserable, felt he +could endure it no longer. In any case Malster was having it too much +his own way with his chorus of sympathetic females, and so, turning +towards the group in the bower, the young nobleman advanced a few paces +towards them.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," he began, "but the subject of your discussion, which I +could scarcely help overhearing, interests me enormously. Might I be +allowed to join in it too?"</p> + +<p>Nobody recognised him. From the refined, gentle manner of his speech, he +might have been one of the local vicars taking a stroll. Only Malster +stirred, as if he felt there was something oddly familiar about the +speaker, but seeing that he had no reason to suppose that Lord Henry was +anywhere within twenty miles of the place, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> identity of the stranger +did not immediately occur to him. There was a pause, and then Malster +said:</p> + +<p>"Move up a bit, Leo! Yes, certainly, sir; we should be glad if you +would."</p> + +<p>"I'm tired," said the sweet soft female voice, which Lord Henry, as he +sat down, realised that he had rightly ascribed to Mrs. Tribe, "I want +to go indoors."</p> + +<p>"One moment," said the weak voice, which had now become more than +usually agitated.</p> + +<p>"To begin with," Lord Henry said, "I should like to join issue most +violently with the gentleman who has been arguing in favour of a +personal god. Nothing,—in the last two centuries has been more fatal to +Europe and humanity than this."</p> + +<p>There was a general movement as if the whole party wished to draw closer +to the speaker, and Stephen Fearwell, who was leaning against one of the +outside uprights of the bower, swung round until his head was well +inside the shelter.</p> + +<p>"Good man!" he ejaculated enthusiastically, as he performed this +movement. And Lord Henry recognised his voice as that of the boy who had +previously endeavoured to support Gerald Tribe. It was evident that he +could feel no deep concern about the issue. He merely wanted Gerald +Tribe to get an innings for once against Malster.</p> + +<p>"You see, as the supporter of a personal god has very truly pointed +out," continued Lord Henry,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> "the morality of any race, or nation, or +group of nations, who believe in a personal god, comes ultimately to +derive its authority from the will of that personal god."</p> + +<p>"Quite so!" said Denis in the same arrogant tone he had used all the +time.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but with what result?" Lord Henry demanded.</p> + +<p>"With the result—" began the Incandescent Gerald.</p> + +<p>"Leave it to him, you silly!" whispered the soft, sweet, female voice +with some eagerness. It was clear that Mrs. Tribe had suddenly changed +her mind about going to bed.</p> + +<p>"With the result," continued Lord Henry emphatically, "that the moment +the belief in the personal god declines, as on analysis it must decline, +morality declines with it. For morality in such cases is bound up, as +you say, with the belief in a personal god. Civilisation, in fact, is +once again on the rocks and society is no longer safe—why? Because by +making your moral code issue from the lips of your personal god, it has +become so much waste paper now that your personal god is beginning to be +felt as an absurdity. Thus in a religion with a personal god, heresy +always kills two birds with one stone. But once the bird morality is +killed, it takes a new civilisation and a new culture to hatch another +one. Man can survive without a belief in a personal god; he cannot +survive without a morality."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But a personal god," objected Denis, "is omniscient, all-seeing. He is +assumed to know all men's actions, and they dare not do wrong precisely +because they know he is watching them. That surely is the best safeguard +to decent conduct; it is in fact the meaning of conscience!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was coming to that point," said Lord Henry gravely, "and what is +the outcome of the thousands of years of belief in this omniscient god, +who can see all men's action? Why, sir, whoever you are," Lord Henry +exclaimed, his voice swelling with indignation, "the result is that +to-day things have come to such a pass that it is scarcely possible to +trust one man or woman in the whole of these islands to do the right +thing against their own interests, when your god, and your god alone is +their witness. That is the state to which your belief in an omniscient +personal god has reduced us, and you know that what I say is true."</p> + +<p>The Incandescent Gerald was so jubilant that he wished to laugh +outright; but his keen eager wife prevented him. She had no wish to save +the feelings of her husband's tormentor, but she was too much fascinated +and spellbound by what she had been able to divine of Lord Henry's +personality to brook the coarse interruption. Leonetta and Vanessa were +beginning to be conscious of this feeling too, and stared eagerly +through the darkness to try to catch a glimpse of the powerful stranger.</p> + +<p>"People have got so used to violating even the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> most elementary +principles of savage morality," continued Lord Henry, "without the +thunder of your almighty descending on their heads, that there is +scarcely a man or woman in Europe to-day who really fears your god as +their only witness, who really troubles about your god as their only +witness, or who even gives him a passing thought, when they stand +absolutely alone before the temptation to perpetrate some mean, +despicable or dishonourable action."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry was at his best. His words were uttered with extreme +precision, his manner was emphatic and passionate, and his mysterious +presence in the party only magnified the impression that these +characteristics made upon his listeners.</p> + +<p>"May I ask who you are?" Denis Malster demanded, leaning forward in the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," replied Lord Henry suavely. "I am Lord Henry Highbarn. I +have come here this evening for a rest and a change."</p> + +<p>A stillness as of death fell on the party, and the excited breathing of +all present could be heard.</p> + +<p>"I thought I knew you," Denis exclaimed at last, recovering from the +unpleasant shock the announcement had given him. "But I couldn't for the +life of me think who you could be."</p> + +<p>"Do they know you are here?" Leonetta gasped.</p> + +<p>"I presume so," said Lord Henry, "my luggage was taken up about an hour +ago."</p> + +<p>He rose, and immediately the rest of the party<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> did likewise. Out on the +bank of the Sprigg, in the moonlight, Denis then proceeded to introduce +all those present, and the whole gathering slowly crossed the bridge and +moved towards the house.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry, with Denis on his left and Leonetta on his right, was in the +van, but the others clustered round as closely as they could, and +conversation was general.</p> + +<p>Women of whatever station in life and from whatever clime, have a very +acute sense of strength and power in the opposite sex. If modern society +has dispensed with the arena and with the tilting jousts of chivalry, it +has nevertheless not deadened either women's passion for the tournament, +or the keenness with which they divine the merits of their respective +knights. And if argument is the only remaining form in which that clash +of arms of olden times is witnessed by them to-day, it is with no +diminished interest or perspicuity that they register its results. +Ordinary games hardly meet all the demands of the true joust; for, in +the first place, they do not include to the same extent as argument, +that formidable element in modern knightly equipment, the intellect; +and, secondly, because to the most thick-skinned there is something so +much more mortifying, ignominious, and humiliating in being beaten in +argument than in losing a game, that argument still retains, though in +an attenuated and spiritualised form, something of the excitement and +gravity of armed conflict.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster was well aware of all this,—indeed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> had he not thrown +down his gauntlet every night to the Incandescent Gerald precisely +because he knew how well he himself looked in the lists, and how well he +tilted? But perhaps Lord Henry was even better aware than Denis of the +important part played by intellectual male conflict in the presence of +women; and he moreover realised more certainly than Denis could possibly +have guessed, the precise effect on the female mind of repeated +victories in this modern and polite form of tournament.</p> + +<p>Certainly as Leonetta, Vanessa, Agatha, and Mrs. Tribe hastened their +footsteps to catch every word that fell from Lord Henry's lips, they +were largely animated by the natural curiosity provoked by the presence +of a distinguished stranger; but in their eagerness to get close up to +him and to be in constant earshot of his voice, there was also the tacit +admission, possibly unrealised by any of them as yet, that in him they +had recognised a knight of peculiar power and of brilliant style.</p> + +<p>They had not concerned themselves with the merits of the actual point +that had been at issue. All they felt was that a certain speaker had +spoken, not as one of the scribes, but as one having authority, and that +the former champion of the lists had for once been worsted in their +presence.</p> + +<p>All this was in the air, unuttered, and even imperfectly present in +unconsciousness. Only Denis Malster, a little uneasy and a little +resentful, and Lord Henry, as usual perfectly serene and urbane,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> could +have accurately explained what had taken place.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Lord Henry had been right. Cleopatra had given up. Jaded by the +unremitting exertions of a week's struggle for supremacy with her +sister, quite unable to face another week of similarly exhausting +effort, and unwilling to acknowledge herself defeated, illness had come +almost as a boon, almost as an angel of mercy. Something seemed to have +snapped inside her,—her main-spring it appeared to be; and now she +hugged her ailment, her weakness, or whatever it was, because it seemed +to offer her the chance of a graceful retreat before her ebbing forces +compelled her to surrender.</p> + +<p>She did not come to breakfast now, and retired early. She half hoped, +perhaps, that the very air of fragility and pathetic languor, which she +had half consciously adopted, would draw even keener attention than had +her former attitude of robust equality with her sister. Vanity is full +of resources when it is wounded. But her attacks of sudden faintness she +could not control; they represented the only genuine feature of her +indisposition,—at least they, and the continued insomnia which was an +important symptom.</p> + +<p>On the first evening of his visit, therefore, Lord Henry did not see +her, neither did she know as she tossed about in her bed at "The +Fastness" that he was anywhere within call. Instinctively she felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> that +her mother's deep sympathy and anxiety to help were with her, but it +never occurred to her that the maternal devotion to her would ever +extend to extreme measures.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Lord Henry was quietly taking stock of everybody at Brineweald +Park. An hour in the drawing-room there, after his walk in the grounds, +supplied him with much useful information; and by the time the car +arrived to take the Delarayne household back to "The Fastness," he had +already formed certain very valuable conclusions.</p> + +<p>It was clear to him that Denis Malster was head and shoulders above the +other men of the party, and but for a certain priggishness of manner +which, though offensive, was not altogether unamenable to correction, by +far the most attractive English male he had seen for some time. He had +almost forgotten their first encounter at the Inner Light meeting, and +was more favourably impressed than he had expected to be by the young +man who had quite evidently been the cause of Mrs. Delarayne's domestic +troubles.</p> + +<p>Conversely, the impression Lord Henry had made upon Denis Malster had +been unfavourable in the extreme. Here was a man who could not be relied +upon to be the same two days running. On the occasion of his first visit +to Bullion Ltd. he had looked a vagabond; his clothes had hung in +shapeless folds about his body, completely concealing whatever symmetry +it might have possessed.</p> + +<p>Denis remembered the faded green tie and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> badly fitting collar he +had seen Lord Henry wearing at the Inner Light meeting, the same green +tie and badly fitting collar in which the young nobleman had had the +simplicity to be photographed for the <i>Bystander</i> only a few weeks +previously,—and filled with consternation at the unaccountable +metamorphosis compared it with Lord Henry's present elegant neck-gear.</p> + +<p>It was monstrous to be so unreliable, monstrous to be so saltatory, so +capricious, as to upset other people's surest reckonings.</p> + +<p>On the following morning it was obvious that Denis had made a supreme +effort. It was an effect in white flannels with a superb foulard tie of +navy blue and wonderful white buckskin shoes. He reached the +breakfast-table at Brineweald Park unusually early, so eager was he to +discover what further sartorial devilry Lord Henry would be guilty of, +and he was not a little disappointed to find only Guy Tyrrell down.</p> + +<p>"Hullo Malster!" cried Guy, looking up from a partly consumed dish of +pork chop. "What the hell's up,—are you going to be married?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be an ass!" Denis replied, helping himself to devilled kidneys.</p> + +<p>"You're looking a howling swell this morning," continued the junior +secretary.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean my rig-out?" Denis enquired with a feeble pretence at not +having understood the meaning of Guy's remarks. "That's nothing. As a +matter of fact I hadn't tried these on since<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> they were made, and I was +wondering what they were like."</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell us what you think of Lord Henry!" Guy pursued after a while.</p> + +<p>"What do you?" Denis retorted, endeavouring to show indifference.</p> + +<p>"He's rather wonderful," Guy exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—wonderful?" the other demanded with an unmistakable +sinking feeling in his stomach.</p> + +<p>"Well, you know, smart in every sense of the word, brains and +everything."</p> + +<p>If Guy had deliberately intended to give Denis indigestion he could not +have set about his task with greater scientific understanding.</p> + +<p>In a moment Miss Mallowcoid appeared. Breakfast to her was an important +meal only when she was visiting. At other times she was satisfied with a +minute fish-cake, or a mere postage-stamp of thin bacon, particularly +when she had to show by example how megalosaurian was the appetite of +the frail Mrs. Gerald Tribe. She was quickly followed by Sir Joseph and +Mr. and Mrs. Tribe, and a few minutes later by Lord Henry himself.</p> + +<p>At the sight of Lord Henry, Denis grew unusually silent and the Tribes +exceptionally voluble. Sir Joseph asked the conventional questions of +his new guest, and on receiving the customary conventional replies, +serenely continued his meal. Miss Mallowcoid, on the other hand, +insisted on attending with scrupulous unselfishness to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> latest +arrival's wants, and encouraging him in every way to partake as +plentifully as she herself of the generous board.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile covertly and methodically Denis Malster was busy confirming +his worst suspicions of this scion of the house of Highbarn, and his +final conclusion was that the young man was behaving with deliberate +malice.</p> + +<p>Clad in a perfect grey flannel suit of graceful design in which even the +seams in black thread were made an attractive feature, and with a collar +and tie that had evidently been selected with taste, there was yet that +character of artless unconsciousness in his attire which gave Lord Henry +at once the appearance and the ease, without any of the traces of +effort, of a well-groomed man. Denis felt that no one could pertinently +have asked Lord Henry whether he was going to be married that day, and +yet there was a glamour about his person which was unmistakable.</p> + +<p>"There is no means of anticipating the wiles of charlatans," he thought +as he finished his breakfast; and he braced himself for a difficult day.</p> + +<p>Thus his imagination played with the new element that chance seemed to +have dropped in his path, and as he smoked his after-breakfast cigarette +on the terrace with Guy Tyrrell he was not in the happiest of moods.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph, the Tribes, Miss Mallowcoid, and Lord Henry were discussing +the programme of the day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I suppose I had better consult Mrs. Delarayne," said Lord Henry, +"before I dispose of any of my time. She will naturally——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't trouble to do that!" Miss Mallowcoid exclaimed. "You are down +here for a rest, and must do just as you like, Lord Henry."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph, who was the only member of the party in Mrs. Delarayne's +secret, understood however what the young man meant. He might possibly +have to remain with Cleopatra.</p> + +<p>"Quite right, Lord Henry," he said. "We really cannot do anything before +you see Mrs. Delarayne."</p> + +<p>At that moment a thumping noise from the direction of Brineweald +announced the usual morning visit of young Stephen Fearwell, and sure +enough, up the main drive, at top speed, there appeared the familiar +silhouette of the youth on his motor-cycle. This time, however, he did +not seem to be alone, fair arms seemed to be clinging to him, and the +flutter of a dress and a sun-bonnet seemed outlined at his back.</p> + +<p>The party on the terrace concentrated into a group at the top of the +steps, and the motor-cycle swung like a rocket round the last bend of +the drive.</p> + +<p>"Why, if it's not that little terror, Leonetta!" cried Miss Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster made an impulsive movement to descend the steps and +checked himself. Never before had Leonetta accompanied Stephen like +this. What could it signify?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> + +<p>The cycle stopped, and in a moment the children were running up the +steps.</p> + +<p>"Peachy has sent me for the morning at least," announced Leonetta, as +Sir Joseph greeted her, "and she wants Lord Henry to go to "The +Fastness" with Stephen at once, if he doesn't mind."</p> + +<p>"Anything wrong?" Sir Joseph demanded.</p> + +<p>It was difficult to imagine that such a sunny, happy messenger could +bring sad tidings, and Sir Joseph had to smile as he contemplated her.</p> + +<p>"I believe Cleo has had another fall, or something," replied the girl. +"Anyhow, Agatha and Vanessa will be here in a minute, and Stephen of +course will come back. Peachy and Cleo will stay at home."</p> + +<p>Leonetta eyed Lord Henry up and down as she spoke in that solemn +searching way in which virgins take stock of men. It was Nature +measuring the worth of one of her own products through the medium of +another of her own products.</p> + +<p>"Am I to go at once?" Lord Henry enquired, glancing for a moment at +Leonetta, and then turning to Sir Joseph.</p> + +<p>"Yes, please," said Leonetta and Stephen together.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry descended the steps while Stephen and Leonetta both assured +him that he could make himself quite comfortable on the back of the +motor-cycle. It was noticeable, however, that he paid more attention to +Stephen than to the girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I can order the car, and we can all go to the beach," said Sir Joseph.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster was jubilant. There stood Leonetta, a dream of beauty in +her simple cotton dress and sun-bonnet, magnetic in her grace and +luxuriant health, and Lord Henry was to be out of the way for at least +three hours.</p> + +<p>At last the couple on the motor-cycle were ready. "Sorry you're leaving +us," cried Sir Joseph. "But we'll see you later."</p> + +<p>Leonetta remained at the foot of the steps waving her hand, but Lord +Henry took no notice; he merely flourished his hat to Sir Joseph and +Miss Mallowcoid on the terrace.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne, hatless and tearful with impatience, was at the gate +waiting for the sound that was to announce the arrival of Lord Henry. +Inside Cleopatra had just recovered from another fainting fit, and +Agatha, who was with her, had rendered valuable help. Mrs. Delarayne had +never considered her weeks at Brineweald as a source of joy; if this +continued, however, they would prove absolutely intolerable.</p> + +<p>At last the familiar thumping sound became audible in the distance. Yes, +it was that dear boy Stephen, and someone was riding on the pillion-seat +of his cycle.</p> + +<p>In a moment cyclist and passenger dismounted at Mrs. Delarayne's gate, +but the latter alone accompanied the lady into the house.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord Henry," gasped the widow, "it is really very tiresome. Poor +Cleopatra has had another of her attacks, and I thought it would be best +if she saw you immediately afterwards. That's why I sent for you in all +that hurry."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid the attacks themselves can tell me little," observed Lord +Henry gravely. "It really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> didn't matter when I saw her. However, I +might just as well speak to her now."</p> + +<p>"Half a minute," whispered Mrs. Delarayne, leaving him in the +drawing-room. "I'll go and prepare her." And so saying she vanished into +the adjoining apartment, which, as far as Lord Henry was able to tell +from a glimpse, appeared to be the billiard-room.</p> + +<p>High words seemed to pass between the widow, her daughter, and Agatha; +for, although Mrs. Delarayne had closed the door behind her, Lord Henry +could distinctly catch snatches of their discussion. It was clear that +Cleopatra was resolutely objecting to see him, and that her mother and +Agatha were doing their utmost to induce her to alter her mind.</p> + +<p>At last Mrs. Delarayne returned.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it tiresome," she exclaimed, taking a chair, "now she absolutely +refuses to see you!"</p> + +<p>"It's not surprising," observed Lord Henry, sitting down beside her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but she must see you; I insist," Mrs. Delarayne pursued.</p> + +<p>"Her indisposition," muttered Lord Henry, "is probably a salutary +refuge. She imagines that she alone knows the cause of it, and that it +would therefore be utterly futile to be examined and worried by people +who cannot possibly trace it to its origin. She knows, moreover, that +even if it is traced to its origin, the discovery can only prove +humiliating to her pride."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, but——"</p> + +<p>"We must manœuvre."</p> + +<p>The widow did not understand.</p> + +<p>"I mean, if you and Agatha will only disappear, I'll walk into the room +and prevail upon her to make friends. That is to say," he added, +"provided she doesn't escape meanwhile."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne fingered her necklace pensively, and jerked her head +forward once or twice in solemn silence.</p> + +<p>"That's the only thing, I'm afraid," said Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>The widow rose, still staring very thoughtfully before her.</p> + +<p>"Don't make too heavy weather of it," continued Lord Henry. "It's not +serious. It will all be well in a day or two."</p> + +<p>"Really?" she exclaimed brightening.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne surveyed him a moment. She hadn't the faintest idea what +he was driving at, but such was her confidence in the soundness of his +judgment that she started on her way to fulfil his instructions. There +was but one circumstance that made her feel that Lord Henry was a trifle +unfamiliar to her on this visit, and that was his unusually well-groomed +appearance. In his present outfit he seemed just a little terrifying. It +was as if she divined that his more normal, his more fashionable +exterior on this occasion, made him accessible to other women besides +herself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + +<p>She smiled a little nervously and left the room, leaving the door ajar.</p> + +<p>He rose as soon as she had gone, heard her say a few words to her +daughter and Agatha, and a second or two later, was given the signal +which announced that the ground was clear.</p> + +<p>He entered the room as if by accident, glanced casually round, and in +doing so got a fleeting glimpse of Cleopatra.</p> + +<p>She was lying back in a deep armchair, her chin resting in her hand. He +noticed that she raised her head, regarded him with an expression of +mingled interest, fear, and surprise, then slightly stirring in her +chair, looked about her for some means of escape. Her back was turned to +the light so that her face was in shadow, and with the object of leaving +her under the protection of the discreet lighting she had chosen, he sat +down facing her, with the whole glare of the sunlit garden upon him.</p> + +<p>"Miss Delarayne," he began, "please don't move on my account. I don't +think I shall disturb you. I heard you would not see me. Quite right +too, perhaps. But surely there can be no harm in our talking, if it does +not annoy you."</p> + +<p>The woman in Cleopatra now urged her to show more animation, beneath +this young man's gaze, than was compatible with her avowed condition of +extreme lassitude and feebleness.</p> + +<p>"I only said I did not wish to see you," she declared, "because I felt +better alone."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was a little staggered by the extraordinary beauty of this girl who +so far had not taken her eyes off him. He had expected that Mrs. +Delarayne's daughters would be beautiful,—and in Leonetta he had had +his expectations confirmed. In Cleopatra, however, as he surveyed her +then, he discerned a degree of nobility and pride, which were apparent +neither in her mother nor her sister, and which lent a singular +queenliness to her impelling charms.</p> + +<p>"There, of course, you were wrong," he said with gentle persuasiveness, +blinking rapidly. "We are no longer wild beasts of prey who can creep +into caves to recover or die alone. We are human beings, social animals. +Two heads are better than one, even in the matter of getting well."</p> + +<p>She frowned and her expression grew more solemn than ever. If this were +Lord Henry, the mental picture she had formed of him had evidently been +very far from the truth; nor had Denis Malster's description of him been +even fair. She wondered, as she examined his fine thoughtful head, and +handsome athletic figure, telling to such advantage in his impeccable +attire, what motive Denis could have had in saying what he had about the +young noblemen before her. She was deeply interested, and for the time +being this feeling overcame every other motive in her breast.</p> + +<p>"If people don't understand you," she said, "it is surely better to be +alone."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> + +<p>He smiled in his roguish irresistible way. "If—" he repeated.</p> + +<p>A slight flush sprang into Cleopatra's cheeks, and quickly vanished +again. He was distinctly attractive—almost bewildering. She was going +to expostulate: "Surely you don't imagine that," when something which +she read in his face, in his intelligent hands, and in his general +manner made her feel that the words would sound banal.</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't stay with me, Lord Henry," she pleaded. He rose. +Whatever she may have meant, the plea sounded sincere enough, and he did +not wish to harass her.</p> + +<p>"Of course I won't," he said, "if it is unpleasant to you," and he moved +towards the door.</p> + +<p>"You surely want to be out in the sun," she added quickly. "You don't +want to stay indoors. Besides I am better now."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, with his fingers on the handle of the door leading to +the drawing-room. "One always feels a little stronger when one is +excited. That is only natural. The presence even of the meanest stranger +always causes a little excitement."</p> + +<p>She sighed. She began to wish he would sit down again. "But I assure you +I feel quite well now." The conviction was gradually stealing over her +that it was ignominious to be ill in the neighbourhood of this young +man. She asked herself whether he had seen Leonetta, and what he thought +of her, and she was seized by an incontrollable shudder.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You soon will be quite well," said Lord Henry gravely.</p> + +<p>"How can you tell!" she exclaimed, smiling incredulously and with some +satisfaction too as she noticed that he left the door and returned to +his seat.</p> + +<p>"Well, any way," he continued, "tell me just exactly what you feel. Try +to explain to me exactly how you feel just before you fall. I need +hardly tell you that it is of course not natural for a girl of your age +to have these sudden fits of collapse. Can you tell me about it?"</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and then she replied, with a strain of defiance in +her voice: "I frankly don't know. It's something I can't explain."</p> + +<p>"Is it something you frankly don't know, or something you can't +explain?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>She looked up as she heard her reply repeated in that form, and was a +little discomfited.</p> + +<p>"Will you try?" he added. "It is just possible, though, I admit, not +probable, that I may be able to help you when I know."</p> + +<p>"Well—" she began, determined if possible that he at least should never +know the truth.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" he interjected eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Directly after lunch the day before yesterday," Cleopatra pursued, "—I +must tell you we had curried chicken for lunch,—I felt a heavy +sensation in the pit of my stomach. I felt sick and giddy, my hands grew +cold, and about tea-time, I was walking in this very room, and my knees +gave way."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p> + +<p>He looked at her beneath lowered brows, as he tugged at his mesh of +hair. "So you think it is all a fit of indigestion," he said.</p> + +<p>She wondered whether he knew that she was lying. "Yes," she said.</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and he looked away from her.</p> + +<p>"Remember, Miss Delarayne," he muttered after a while, "that it will be +difficult to start me off on a false scent, even if it is as savoury as +curried chicken."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra started a little at this remark; she noticed his enigmatic +smile, and her brows twitched nervously.</p> + +<p>"I don't see what you mean," she stammered.</p> + +<p>"I mean," said Lord Henry, his head still bowed, and his free hand +picking imaginary atoms of fluff from his trousers, "that if you tell me +the truth, our two heads may make some progress. If you deliberately +mislead me, although the task will even then not be beyond the wit of +man, it will be a little more difficult."</p> + +<p>"But I assure you, Lord Henry," she protested, "I am not trying to +mislead you."</p> + +<p>"Come, Miss Delarayne, come!" he remonstrated. Then he added, after a +pause, "But perhaps I am wrong in assuming that you should feel any +confidence in me. After all, why should you?"</p> + +<p>She had never yet been in the presence of a man who inspired such +complete confidence, or who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> made her desire so ardently to be up and +about, active and well in his presence. Nevertheless her indomitable +pride made her moderate the manner of her reply.</p> + +<p>"What can I say?" she exclaimed, pretending to be at the end of her +resources.</p> + +<p>He flicked an imaginary feather from his knee. "Shall I prompt you?" he +enquired.</p> + +<p>His coolness at once mastered and terrified her.</p> + +<p>"How can you!" she ejaculated, her resistance failing.</p> + +<p>"Why haven't you told me, for instance," he began, "that you have +scarcely slept for five or six nights."</p> + +<p>Her mouth fell. "Lord Henry!"</p> + +<p>"Why haven't you said that last night, or perhaps for the last two +nights, you have tried a certain narcotic without much success? Sleep is +a very essential thing, Miss Delarayne. One cannot go without it with +impunity. You probably realise that."</p> + +<p>She stammered the beginning of a denial, but the words died on her lips. +She was too stiff with alarm to be able to speak. After all, vanity is a +great power even in the noblest of us.</p> + +<p>"Miss Delarayne," Lord Henry continued, "you and I can keep a secret. I +can at any rate. Let me see whether I cannot tell you why you have tried +to mislead me."</p> + +<p>Her ears were hot, and she glanced involuntarily towards the garden +door. Had any one else than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> Lord Henry revealed a fraction of his +ability to pierce her secret she would have fled.</p> + +<p>"A good suggestion," he exclaimed, following the direction of her eyes. +"Let's sit in the garden."</p> + +<p>He opened the door, and she walked out in front of him,—stiff, proud, +and erect. He noticed a shadow running back into the house, and presumed +it was Mrs. Delarayne.</p> + +<p>They reached the small marquee, two or three wicker chairs lay about the +lawn outside it, and they sat down. Now for the first time he could form +a just estimate of his companion's beauty, and he experienced some +difficulty in removing his glance from her. The stay at Brineweald had +tanned her face, and deepened the warm colour of her skin, and though +the recent vigils had somewhat deadened the brilliance of her eyes, they +still flashed with a dignity and independence that were a warning to any +one who might have thoughts of perpetrating an indiscretion in her +presence.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry tugged at his mesh, and wondered whether he had better +proceed. This girl's secret, wrapped as it was in her pride and, worse +still, in her vanity, seemed a very sacred thing to penetrate. Never had +he felt that divination could lie so close to desecration as when he +watched this magnificent creature before him, making her last proud +stand in front of the humiliating cause of her breakdown. His heart went +out to her, however; he suddenly felt the impulse, not of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> trained +psychologist to cure a patient, but of a gallant knight to save a +beautiful lady in distress. He was prepared to use every weapon in order +to defeat the dragon, and as his strongest weapons seemed to be his deep +knowledge of the human soul, and his long experience in curing it, he +proceeded on his old lines. But how different he was, notwithstanding, +from the Lord Henry of the Ashbury Sanatorium none knew better than +himself. He could no longer be cool and collected. He must fight with +the girl against the canker in her heart as if he himself also felt the +pain of it. He must tear it out and save her peace of mind, like the +therapeutist that he was; but he could not help also being the +fellow-sufferer, so deeply did he feel that he wished to share her woe +and her fears.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "I was beginning to tell you why you wished to lead me +astray."</p> + +<p>"I didn't wish to lead you astray," she cried, almost desperate lest he +should guess the truth.</p> + +<p>"Very often," Lord Henry continued, "we can confide in a friend +concerning a blow directed at our hearts, in fact that is actually one +of the uses of friendship. But it is difficult sometimes to confess the +pain of a blow levelled at our self-esteem, at our vanity."</p> + +<p>He looked discreetly away as he spoke, but he noticed that she stirred +at this point.</p> + +<p>"Not only your heart and your womanly yearnings are at stake here, Miss +Delarayne," he pur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>sued. "These when they are thwarted simply make one +sweetly miserable, languorously self-commiserating,—but it is your +pride and vanity that are concerned."</p> + +<p>She regarded him now as one magnetised, hypnotised, petrified.</p> + +<p>If every line of his face, and every sign in his whole person had not +convinced her of his exceptional character, she would have fled his +presence even now, never to confront him again.</p> + +<p>"These are real savages when they are provoked," he went on suavely. +"What do they care for the destruction their anger brings upon your +body? They would devastate your whole beauty without scruple in order to +calm their tempestuous rage. They begin by undermining the trust you +feel in your own claims. They then proceed to keep you awake at night +and to toss you about in your bed, when you ought to be refreshing your +body with sleep; and, finally, when they have ravished your sleep, they +open your mind to all the hideous spectres and shapes that are always +waiting, like hungry unemployed, to get busy in a wakeful and anxious +brain."</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry!" gasped the girl, starting as if to rise.</p> + +<p>"I am saying these things for you, Miss Delarayne," he said quickly, +"because it is perhaps too much to expect you to say them yourself, and +because you will find that their expression will relieve you. Oh, if I +can only do that,—surely——"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> + +<p>She looked at him for a moment and noted the fervour in his face, the +energy in his hands, and the honest nobility of his eyes; and anxious as +she now felt to escape from his terrifying presence, she was riveted by +his personality and could not move.</p> + +<p>"It was not only the prospect of having all your life to stroke the +cheeks of other people's children, Miss Delarayne, that you dreaded. +This is a natural, noble, splendid dread, it is true, which every woman +worthy of the name should feel when she reaches your age. But there is +something far more poisonous, far more harmful to your system in the +present situation, and that is the thought that you may have all your +life to stroke the cheeks of other people's children, thanks to a +creature who, delightful as she may be, you nevertheless rightly regard +not only as your subordinate, not only as your junior both in age and +claims, but also as one towards whom it is loathsome to you to feel any +such feelings as rivalry."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra gripped the arms of her wicker chair, and turned eyes full of +horror upon her companion.</p> + +<p>"It is this that is slowly causing your strength to ebb," he went on; +"it is this acid which is corroding your life."</p> + +<p>She gasped. "But it is a very real and additional pain," she exclaimed +hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"It is, of course," he assented. "It would be absurd to ignore it. Just +as it would be absurd to ignore the extra filip which your presence, or +your part in the business, adds to this, Leonetta's first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> affair. For +what is a man to her, after all? Another feather in her cap,—another +bauble! She has left school and her maiden's vanity,—we'll call it +self-esteem,—bids her at once try to confirm the high claims she +rightly thinks her beauty and her sex entitle her to make upon the +world. She wants to win her first crown as May Queen. No deeper passion +is involved. And should a man be induced, in his arrogance, to take +these first steps of hers seriously, she would regret all her life what +was merely a schoolgirl's whim. For society would take no pity on her, +and would compel her to spend her life with a creature of whom she had +only solicited the flattery of a season."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra bowed her head, and toyed nervously with a bracelet. She was +breathing heavily, but was now showing no desire to escape.</p> + +<p>"But there is a difference, a very deep difference," he continued, +"between the purchaser of a pearl necklet and the purchaser of a loaf of +bread. The first is acquiring merely another ornament, another set-off +to her beauty, another weapon in the fight for supremacy, and she +performs the act with a frivolous smile. The other is obtaining a +primitive and fundamental necessity, and she does it solemnly, aware as +she is of its real uses. The first is the schoolgirl receiving her first +attentions from a man; the second is the woman of passion who knows what +life has promised her."</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry," Cleopatra ejaculated, "how wonderfully you understand!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What aggravates your pain a thousandfold is the thought you are being +robbed of a necessity, by one who uses it as a toy. You feel as a +starving child might feel who sees the loaf that has been snatched from +him being used as a football."</p> + +<p>A tear trickled down Cleopatra's face. "That is wonderfully true," she +assented, and brushed the tear quickly away.</p> + +<p>He paused and looked at her for a moment beneath lowered brows. A +wonderful serenity had come upon her, and her lips no longer seemed +tormented with words they did not dare to utter.</p> + +<p>"What is so terrible, Lord Henry," she said at last, "what the world +does not seem to understand, and will not see, is that a girl with a +sister is placed in intimate, daily, and inevitable contact with the +very woman who is her most constant and most formidable rival. She sees +her grow up and gradually assume womanly shape. She watches the +development of every feature with eyes starting out of her head with +horror. While her sister is at the gawky age, she gets a short breathing +space, because a child at that time is so clumsy, so unattractive and +foolish. But all of a sudden this vanishes. The child becomes a woman, +startlingly beautiful and seductive. She realises it herself, and +naturally wants her successes, as Baby did."</p> + +<p>"Who's Baby?" Lord Henry interrupted.</p> + +<p>"My sister, Leonetta."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see—go on."</p> + +<p>"Then you do everything you can to make her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> feel she is not grown up +yet. But it is hopeless. In vain you try to thrust her back into +childhood——"</p> + +<p>"By calling her 'Baby' instead of 'Leonetta,' for instance," said Lord +Henry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course!" Cleopatra cried. "I didn't think of that." Then she +continued after a while, "But of course they want to shine, and you can +do nothing. You are expected to love them, cherish them; you are even +expected to take an interest in their clothes, in their hair! You even +have to go and help put the finishing touches, when all the time you +dread seeing her dressed up. It is excruciating, it is brutal. It is +inhuman, Lord Henry! Shall I tell you the truth,—though it's dreadful, +wicked. Well, <i>I hate</i> my sister. I loathe her with a deadly loathing. +My fingers itch to—oh, all through the night I think of some means of +disfiguring her. It is the most diabolical cruelty to put any woman into +the position I am in now. I long to fly away, where I shall never, never +see her again. It's that and nothing else that has given me these +fainting fits. I have controlled my loathing too long. One day, if only +fate is kind, I shall fall down and be killed."</p> + +<p>She collapsed at the end of this tirade, and burst into a torrent of +tears. There was no affectation about that flood. It was the expression +of real anguish, of long-pent-up suffering, and Lord Henry knew what +infinite good it would do.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Miss Delarayne!" he exclaimed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> still fearing that the +humiliation of the discovery, despite the relief it gave, would prove +too much for her immensely proud nature. "I share your secret now. I am +strong. You will feel my strength with you. You are no longer alone. You +will not have any more of these fainting fits."</p> + +<p>She still sobbed, and it was heartrending to Lord Henry to watch her. +Unmoved as he was, as a rule, by women's tears, he felt that these, +coming as they did from such a proud spirit, were almost like blood +issuing from a wound.</p> + +<p>"And now what will you think of me?" she said at last, lifting her head, +and drying her eyes. "Now that you have heard how unwomanly I am, how +wicked, how criminally wicked! Because, I suppose, morally speaking, to +lie awake and scheme out one's sister's disfigurement is as bad as to +accomplish it."</p> + +<p>He smiled. "You don't imagine, do you," he said, "that I am so +thoroughly modern and romantic as to turn away from an eagle when I find +it has not only angel's wings but also claws?"</p> + +<p>She laughed. "How did you manage to know so much about me?" she +demanded. "Ordinary men know and understand nothing. They would be +shocked and horrified, if I spoke to them about my sister as I have +spoken to you. How do you know these things?"</p> + +<p>"There is much less difference between human beings than one thinks," he +replied. "To know one decent man and one decent woman well, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> to be +intimately acquainted with the rest of the decent world, I can assure +you."</p> + +<p>"How I dreaded that anybody should know!" she exclaimed, "and yet how +simple it all seems to me now that you should know!"</p> + +<p>"And now why don't you go and lie down for a bit," he said.</p> + +<p>She rose, and without looking back at him, walked towards the house. Her +gait was lighter, more assured, more self-confident. It was the gait of +one who had ceased to run the gauntlet.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + + +<p>It wanted an hour and a half to lunch time. Mrs. Delarayne appeared to +have left "The Fastness," and Lord Henry was alone in the garden, +meditating and maturing his plans.</p> + +<p>A strange and pleasant titillation of all his nerves, somewhat similar +to that which in the morning convinces a man that he has had a +refreshing and healing sleep, seemed to hint to him that here he was not +the usual neuropathic therapeutist of Ashbury fame, not a mere +specialist spectator, but an acting figure, a participator in this +family affair. Could it be his old and deep-rooted admiration for Mrs. +Delarayne that made him feel this hearty concern about a patient's +condition?</p> + +<p>He yawned lazily and stretched himself in the fierce August sunlight. +Cleopatra's empty chair brought back to him her queenly presence, her +passionate confession, and the thought of what it must have cost her. He +felt a primitive and violent impulse to perform miracles for the girl +whose health and happiness, out of blind friendship for her mother, he +had undertaken to protect. He even felt prepared to go to greater +lengths in rescuing her self-esteem than he would ever have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> dared to go +with other people. For, to become normal again, he knew that her +self-esteem must be revived.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in the midst of his meditations, the sound of somebody +approaching from the direction of the house made him turn his head. It +was Mrs. Delarayne, and, some distance behind her, the whole of "The +Fastness" and Brineweald Park party.</p> + +<p>He rose with alacrity and, seizing her by the arm, led her across the +lawn to the far end of the garden.</p> + +<p>"Quick," he said, "before the others join us."</p> + +<p>She followed, looking up at him with the deepest interest.</p> + +<p>"Do you want Leonetta to marry Malster?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, most certainly not!" cried the widow with angry emphasis. +"Anything but that. I have taken the most profound dislike to him. That +must be avoided at all costs. The child doesn't know her own mind. +Besides, he doesn't deserve her, and Cleopatra's feelings have surely +been outraged enough. No, most emphatically not. She would only learn to +despise him in a couple of months. In fact, I believe Sir Joseph is +dismissing him from Bullion's."</p> + +<p>"I thought you would take that view," he said. "You are not forgetting, +I suppose, that they are very much in love with each other."</p> + +<p>"In love!" she exclaimed. "Why, Leonetta<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> would fall in love with a +stuffed owl at present, provided it could dance attendance on her."</p> + +<p>He grunted. "Now one thing more. Do you agree with me that, beautiful, +fascinating, and bewitching as Leonetta undoubtedly is, she would be all +the better for realising for once that she cannot have everything her +own way?"</p> + +<p>"She's an over-confident little hussy," ejaculated Mrs. Delarayne. "I've +tried to make her feel that myself, but parents are not much good at +that sort of thing. Children think we do it out of spite, you know. +That's what I used to think of my own mother."</p> + +<p>"It would make her deeper, more reflective, more desirable."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," agreed the widow.</p> + +<p>"Now let us go back," said the young man, and they returned to the +others who had settled themselves round the marquee.</p> + +<p>"Ah, here's Lord Henry!" Vanessa cried. "We'll ask him what he thinks!"</p> + +<p>Leonetta was silent, because the difference of opinion concerned Denis, +and she could not take sides against him. So she contented herself with +observing Lord Henry in that grave, interested manner, which is always a +sign that something deeper than consciousness is taking stock of an +object.</p> + +<p>The moment Lord Henry had settled himself in a chair, Stephen Fearwell, +who was at the stage of distant and inarticulate adoration towards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> him, +dropped on the grass in front of him, at Agatha's feet, and contemplated +him with grave interest.</p> + +<p>Stimulated pleasantly as he had been by his interview with Cleopatra, +Lord Henry was still enough of a youth and a man to feel equally moved +by the subtle influence of the beautiful girls and the silent young men +about him. This was just the situation in which experience had always +taught him he could shine to the best advantage, and in which his +formidable weapons could be wielded with the finest effect.</p> + +<p>"We are discussing poetry, Lord Henry," said Guy Tyrrell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Stephen a little shyly, "those two fellows Guy and Denis +have had a fit of indigestion I should think; they've been talking about +what they call Victorian verse the whole morning. Look, Denis has got +his Browning with him still. You don't like poetry, do you?" Stephen +blushed a little. It was his first long and direct appeal to the man he +had been secretly admiring ever since the previous evening.</p> + +<p>"But I do very much indeed!" Lord Henry protested.</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid, Leonetta, Denis, and Guy laughed triumphantly at this, +and Vanessa, Stephen, Agatha, and Sir Joseph stirred awkwardly.</p> + +<p>"We're just four against four,—isn't it funny?" cried Vanessa, jerking +Sir Joseph's arm in which hers was locked. "Of course the Tribes are on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +our side too, but they stayed at Stonechurch shopping."</p> + +<p>"So I'm to give the casting vote, am I?" Lord Henry enquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Vanessa, clapping her hands eagerly, "and you'll +give it to us, won't you, Lord Henry! Please!"</p> + +<p>Leonetta regarded her schoolmate with grave disapproval, and as she +glanced down at her hands, raised her eyebrows in grieved surprise.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Denis, "you see, Lord Henry, I've been telling these people +about the curious decline in poetry reading, and in the appreciation of +poetry, which is noticeable nowadays."</p> + +<p>"I confess I never read it," Sir Joseph averred. "I can never make out +what the fellow's driving at, turning everything upside down and inside +out!"</p> + +<p>Vanessa cried "Hear, hear!" and the baronet laughed uproariously.</p> + +<p>"'Ow can people read the stuff?" he pursued.</p> + +<p>"I can't read it," said Stephen, "because it entirely fails to interest +me."</p> + +<p>"I can't read it," Agatha declared, "because it all seems to me mere +beautiful words."</p> + +<p>"Chiefly archaic!" added Stephen.</p> + +<p>"I never read it," Vanessa observed, "because you have to wade through +such quantities of stuff before you can find anything worth +remembering."</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid, Leonetta, Guy, and Denis laughed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I tell them there's something lacking in them," snapped Miss +Mallowcoid, looking as unlike a poetical muse as it was possible to be.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry turned to Denis. "You hear what they have said?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, they've been repeating that the whole morning," Denis rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Their voices are at least those of sincerity," said Lord Henry. +"Neither can you say they are exceptionally ill-favoured human beings. +Without wishing to cast any aspersions on you, Miss Mallowcoid, +Leonetta, and Guy, I think an impartial judge might be excused if he +regarded your opponents as at least as intelligent as yourselves."</p> + +<p>"Unquestionably," Denis admitted.</p> + +<p>"Of course!" cried Guy.</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid and Leonetta, however, who were not at all persuaded +that they could excuse such a judge, looked stonily unconvinced.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Lord Henry, "that shows we must seek the cause of +this modern indifference to poetry elsewhere than in the inferiority of +those who refuse to read it."</p> + +<p>"Good!" cried the baronet, and Agatha, Vanessa, and Stephen cheered.</p> + +<p>"The question is," Lord Henry continued, "why is poetry not read +to-day?"</p> + +<p>"What is poetry, to begin with?" Vanessa demanded.</p> + +<p>Everybody agreed that this was obviously the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> first thing to decide, and +various definitions were given, none of which proved satisfactory. Denis +Malster's definition which was: "Fine thoughts expressed in rhythmic +order, and sometimes rhymed," was rejected by Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>"You must get out of your mind altogether, the idea that poetry is all +exalted vapourings, and high-browed sublime blue steam!" he said. "Its +most important characteristic is that it adopts a mnemonic form,—that +is to say, the form you would instinctively cast words into if you +wished to remember them."</p> + +<p>This was generally agreed to.</p> + +<p>"But what is it that can justly claim the right of a mnemonic form?" +Lord Henry exclaimed. "Clearly only those things that are worth +remembering,—important, vital things!"</p> + +<p>Vanessa who was the only person present whose nimble mind foresaw Lord +Henry's conclusion, cheered at this point.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," he continued. "A man who casts his thought or his +emotion into a poetical or mnemonic form, implies that he is dealing +with thoughts or emotions that are important or vital enough to be +remembered. If they fall short of this standard, he is dressing asses in +lions' skins!"</p> + +<p>Stephen and Vanessa looked at each other and smiled approvingly.</p> + +<p>"The disappointment felt is then all the greater," Lord Henry added, +"seeing that the form leads us to anticipate important things and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> we do +not get them. In fact," he said, withdrawing a note-book from his breast +pocket, "I made a note the other day of the poet's duty. It is to +prepare for mankind memorisable formulas in universal terms of important +thoughts or emotions."</p> + +<p>"But that's almost what I said," Denis protested.</p> + +<p>"Yes, almost," Lord Henry replied, with just that restraint in scorn +which makes scorn most scathing.</p> + +<p>"The consequence is," Lord Henry concluded, "that according to this view +of poetry, which I believe is the right view, and the view unconsciously +taken by the masses, more than three quarters of Victorian Verse is +simply so much superior drivel."</p> + +<p>The baronet's party clapped their hands.</p> + +<p>"The works of your Wordsworths, your Tennysons, your Brownings, your +Matthew Arnolds," cried Lord Henry above the noise, "might be distilled +down to one quarter of their bulk and nothing would be lost."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph laughed. "Now I know, now I know!" he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"And as for your very modern poets, they are even worse than the +Victorians. Masefield, for instance, is jejuneness enthroned. How can +you expect the bulk of sane mankind to read poetry, when they repeatedly +encounter this vacuity, this unimportance of thought and emotion, +presented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> with all the pomp and circumstance of a memorisable form?"</p> + +<p>"Bravo, Lord Henry!" Stephen cried.</p> + +<p>"But have you read Wordsworth's <i>Ode on Immortality</i>?" objected Miss +Mallowcoid, with mantling cheeks and indignant glare. She belonged to +the class of persons who always fancy they have thought of an objection +to a generalisation which the man who made it must have overlooked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," replied Lord Henry. "It is a preposterously false and +therefore dangerous thought; but I admit it is magnificently expressed. +A much more sensible and profound view of childhood is given by Browning +at the end of <i>A Soul's Tragedy</i>; but unfortunately it is expressed in +Browning's usual turbid and muddled way, without Wordsworth's art."</p> + +<p>Denis Malster and Guy Tyrrell were shrewd enough to see that Lord Henry +knew his subject, and had at least endeavoured to understand what poets +should aspire to; Denis, however, felt that at all costs he must enter +the lists against the young nobleman. He knew the women would be quick +to account for his silence in a manner not too complimentary either to +his courage or his ability, and he felt that his very prestige demanded +at least a demonstration of some kind on his part. Leonetta, too, was +beginning to look at him with a suggestion of enquiry in her eyes, and +then ultimately Agatha made it impossible for him to desist any longer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come on now," she said, "you two champions of Victorian verse,—aren't +you going to defend it?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry has admitted all we claim," he observed lamely. "No one +would dream of saying that all Wordsworth or all Tennyson or all +Browning was worth reading."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I claim that fully three quarters of it was not worth +printing," said Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>"I think that's a gross exaggeration," Miss Mallowcoid averred.</p> + +<p>"Still at it?" enquired Mrs. Tribe, who accompanied by her husband now +joined the party. "I agree with Lord Henry whatever he has said."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you know a thing or two!" cried Vanessa.</p> + +<p>At a signal from Sir Joseph, Lord Henry now rose, and the two strolled +off together in the direction of the house.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen Cleopatra?" the baronet asked as soon as they were out of +earshot.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry told him briefly what had happened.</p> + +<p>"How strange!" Sir Joseph exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"It is all the result of our detestable English system of leaving it to +our daughters to dress their own shop window, so to speak," Lord Henry +remarked, "so that at a given moment they each enter business on their +own account, make the best possible show, and of course become the most +bitter rivals. It is as cruel as it is stupid. It is the old Manchester +School, the commercial idea of unrestricted competition, invading even +the family."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + +<p>Sir Joseph who imagined that the young nobleman was trying to be +humorous, laughed at this.</p> + +<p>"Ye-es, yes, I see!" he exclaimed chuckling.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry groaned.</p> + +<p>"But it is a most impossible situation," he said sternly. "Don't you +understand? In the case of women of deep passions, like these beautiful +Delarayne girls, it is a harrowing drama."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph looked up. Lord Henry's words had sobered him.</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"I do, most emphatically," the young man continued "All our plan of life +in England, you see, is founded on the assumption that only people of +mediocre and diluted passion will hold the stage. We allow our girls to +go about freely with young men, for instance. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because we can trust the young men," suggested Sir Joseph.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it!—because both men and girls are usually so very much +below par temperamentally that they can exercise what is called +'self-control,'—that is to say their passions are relied upon always to +be weaker than their 'self-control'."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph was by now utterly bewildered.</p> + +<p>"We allow our daughters to exercise the most heartless rivalry one +against the other in the matrimonial field—why?"</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph, who imagined that the young noble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>man was growing impatient +with him, did not venture to reply.</p> + +<p>"Because," continued Lord Henry, "we know perfectly well that they are +too tame, too mild, too listless about life, ever to become homicidal in +their hatred of one another. The moment two deep, eager and adorable +girls, like these daughters of Mrs. Delarayne, walk on to our English +boards, our whole fabric, our whole scenery, and stage machinery, is +shown to be wrong to the last screw. God! How different this country +must have been when Shakespeare was able to say that thing about one +touch of nature! Now one touch of nature in England sets the whole world +by the ears!"</p> + +<p>"Is Cleopatra very bad then?" Sir Joseph enquired anxiously.</p> + +<p>"So bad that she would have been suicidal if steps had not been taken +immediately. You see it isn't everybody who is so lukewarm, so anæmic, +as to make a cheerful old maid. Cheery old maids are the condemnation of +modern English womanhood Their frequency in England shows the +shallowness of the average modern woman's passion. Among all +warm-blooded peoples old maids are known to be bitter, resentful, +untractable and misanthropic."</p> + +<p>"Are they really?" exclaimed Sir Joseph. "I didn't know that."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne came towards them.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry," she cried, "Cleopatra is coming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> to lunch. You have +already done wonders with her. At least she wants to be well now. That's +a great triumph."</p> + +<p>The remainder of the party now came up the garden towards the house.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry!" Leonetta cried, skipping up to his side, bearing a kitten. +"Do you like cats? Look at this little angel!"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry, without looking at her, raised a hand deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>"We are not out of the wood yet," he murmured in an aside to Mrs. +Delarayne.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's scratching,—do look at her, Lord Henry!" Leonetta exclaimed, +a little over anxiously this time, as she was not used to having her +self-advertising manœuvres disregarded in this manner.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lord Henry with cold courtesy, glancing at the kitten only +for a moment, and then quickly resuming his conversation with his +hostess.</p> + +<p>Leonetta, swallowing something in her throat, skipped with a somewhat +forced affectation of childish gaiety in the direction of the house. +Lord Henry, Denis, and Vanessa, however, were the only three of the +party who correctly interpreted her action, though they appeared to be +engaged with other matters.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>After dinner that day, when the cool of a midsummer evening had fallen +on Brineweald Park,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> and Cleopatra had been despatched to her bed by her +new spiritual adviser, Mrs. Delarayne, Sir Joseph, Miss Mallowcoid, and +Gerald Tribe sat down to Bridge on the terrace, Lord Henry invited +Agatha to show him over the grounds, and Mrs. Tribe and Stephen went to +the billiard room.</p> + +<p>A moment before Lord Henry had descended the steps with his companion, +he had seen Vanessa and Guy Tyrrell depart mysteriously in the direction +of the woods, and Denis and Leonetta vanish just as mysteriously towards +Headlinge.</p> + +<p>For the purpose he had in view, he would have preferred Vanessa for his +companion, more especially as he had noticed that she went reluctantly +with Tyrrell, but he had missed securing her by a minute, thanks to Mrs. +Delarayne's garrulousness.</p> + +<p>He stood at the foot of the steps. It mattered not to him whither +Vanessa and her companion were bound, and observing the direction Denis +and Leonetta were taking, he walked slowly along the path to Headstone, +which was exposed for the greater length of its course, and promised to +keep him constantly in their view.</p> + +<p>"This way, Lord Henry," said Agatha, starting in the direction of +Headlinge.</p> + +<p>"No, if you don't mind," he said, "I prefer this path. I like the sweep +of the hill to the right. These vast stretches of grass at this hour +always make me feel that I am walking on the edge of a carpet, on which +the elves and the fairies are having their revels."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girl acquiesced. The two figures to the left, on the road to +Headlinge, buried themselves in a wooded grove, and the girl glanced a +little apprehensively in their direction, as she caught the last glimpse +of them.</p> + +<p>"Denis and Leonetta are on the road to Headlinge," she said simply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, are they?" replied Lord Henry. "Can you see them then?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered. "They are somewhere behind those trees."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two proposals of marriage were made that evening in Brineweald Park. One +was flatly declined; the result of the other was doubtful. The love-sick +swains were Denis Malster and Guy Tyrrell, and their respective +companions we know.</p> + +<p>Guy Tyrrell, who was of the breed who scarcely ever receive a +spontaneous kindly look from women, without offering something very +substantial in exchange, was feeling that romantic passion for the +voluptuous Jewess, which the sun and the plentiful food at Brineweald, +had no doubt done an immense deal to fan to a flame in his breast. He +had recognised very early that with Malster about, he stood no chance +with Leonetta, and he found that had it not been for Leonetta's +occupying the central place, he would have stood just as bad a chance +with Vanessa. For two days now, moreover, he had been observing Vanessa +lavishing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> her attentions on Sir Joseph, and utterly harmless though the +old baronet was, Guy had been conscious of certain intolerable pangs +when he had seen the girl's shapely little brown hands in the City +magnate's, and her strong nicely rounded forearm enlocked in his +master's.</p> + +<p>Tremulously, therefore, but with studious persistency, he had that +evening repeatedly whispered the request to her that she should walk out +to the woods with him, and she, casting a longing glance first at Lord +Henry, then at Denis Malster, had reluctantly acquiesced. Her curiosity +was possibly awakened too; at all events she went, when she had no +pressing need to go, and incidentally received the entertainment she +deserved.</p> + +<p>He was agitated, as all "clean-minded" young men are, whose amorous +passions have for once got the better of their qualms, and he breathed +very heavily,—rather like a draft-ox at the turn of the plough. He was +gauche, timid, thoroughly unskilled in the art of wooing, not even up to +the wiles of the most guileless male animal or bird; and Vanessa felt +only a sensation of extreme discomfiture as he blurted out his longings +to her.</p> + +<p>"No, really not!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, but I had no idea you felt +like that about me."</p> + +<p>He caught her arms. His hand was very hot, and she felt it through the +gauze of her sleeve.</p> + +<p>She turned back quickly. "Come on," she said, "let's get back to the +house. They'll wonder what on earth we're doing."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<p>He dropped his hand to hers, and pulled on it slightly.</p> + +<p>"Listen," he pleaded. "Stop a minute and listen."</p> + +<p>She screwed her hand deftly out of his, and drew aside.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please leave me alone, Guy!" she cried. "It's no good. I couldn't +dream of it. I'm never going to marry."</p> + +<p>Still he persisted incoherently, unattractively, and with the increasing +daring of swelling desire.</p> + +<p>"No, I tell you," she ejaculated, laughing a little nervously. "Can't +you take 'no' for an answer? You are not going to annoy me just because +we happen to be alone, are you?"</p> + +<p>He dropped his hands to his side, and was silent.</p> + +<p>"Now, don't let's say any more about it," said Vanessa, feeling very +much relieved. She had the sound instinct that informed her that this +man's "clean-mindedness" was revolting, and breathed fast and +irregularly at the thought of the danger she imagined she had been in. +If he had kissed her with those uneloquent and untrained lips of his, +impure in their purity, she would never have forgiven herself.</p> + +<p>"Look at the moon," she said, as she strode rapidly back to the house. +"It is beginning to wane. I wonder if the weather will change with it."</p> + +<p>And so they reached the terrace,—she feeling that she wanted a wash; he +feeling only that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> had bungled it, because she was too worldly, too +sophisticated to be natural.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, however, in another part of the grounds, a very much more +subtle, irresistible, and skilful proposal was being pronounced. True, +it was being made by a man who desired at all costs, and in good time, +to secure his achieved success from threatened assault, and who was +therefore a little desperate; but it was also the performance of a +creature who knew his subject, who understood its difficulties, and who +was not hindered by any of those scruples of ignorance and purity which +temper ardour and paralyse daring.</p> + +<p>For Malster was in the condition in which a man's desire may truly be +said to have become a physical ache. A feeling of sick longing held his +heart and entrails as in a vise, a sort of cramp of violent tension +stiffened all his tissues. On Leonetta his eyes were fastened as if by +some powerful magnet. The rest of the world, as also its inhabitants, +was obliterated; they seemed nothing more than shadows passing and +re-passing,—shadows which, if need be, could be pushed aside, offended, +outraged. For what, after all, are shadows?</p> + +<p>People are mistaken if they imagine that it requires any effort to +sacrifice position, power, friends, parents,—aye, even home, +nationality, and honour,—when a man is in this condition. For these +things are as nothing, beside the all-devouring anguish of so great a +desire. They are not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> sacrificed in such circumstances; they simply do +not enter within his purview.</p> + +<p>If Leonetta had acted wilfully, deliberately, and with her object +clearly conceived before she began, she could not have achieved any +greater success; for Malster was her abject slave. Jealous of every look +or word she vouchsafed to another, hating even the kitten that her rosy +well-made fingers clasped, literally ill away from her presence, and +thrilled almost painfully by the sound of her voice when she returned, +the whole of Brineweald had become for him but a fantastic and hardly +material background, to a scene in which his emotions beat out their +gigantic throbs like Titans wrestling for freedom. He was not even in a +fit state to use an ordinary foot-rule with accuracy.</p> + +<p>To speak to such a man of morals, of ethical duty, of certain +obligations to an elder sister, of responsibility to host or hostess, or +to society, would have been little better than to try to teach table +etiquette to a boa-constrictor. There was only one thing that could +force him to become sober for one instant and to reflect, and that was +the menace of successful rivalry. But even then his sober mood would +last only as long as he was maturing panic schemes to overcome the +difficulty.</p> + +<p>Such a mood of sober reflection had, however, possessed him ever since +the advent of Lord Henry, and although he had not the slightest reason +either to suspect or to surmise that the young nobleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> wished to +defeat him in any field, such was the magnitude of his desire for +Leonetta and the jealousy it provoked, that every minute that Lord Henry +spoke, every minute that his voice held the flapper's ears in attentive +subjection, were to him so many hours of agonising dread.</p> + +<p>A glance at Leonetta would convince him that she was listening; further +observation would reveal the fact that she was also interested; and +finally he would recognise that her eyes were upon the young nobleman, +even when he was silent.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster had perceived with female quickness the infernal charms of +Lord Henry's personality; he had measured almost exactly, despite the +natural tendency to exaggeration into which his jealousy led him, the +precise effect of Lord Henry's persuasive and emphatic tongue upon the +female ear. He had seen its effect on Mrs. Delarayne, on Vanessa, on +Agatha, on Mrs. Tribe. Was it likely that Leonetta would long remain +insensible to the difference between himself and the new arrival?</p> + +<p>Already he had been obliged to abandon those daily contests on the +subject of the Inner Light with the wretched Gerald Tribe, because Lord +Henry promised to be too much for him. And yet they had been so +valuable,—such a splendid opportunity for exhibiting his proudest +achievements!</p> + +<p>Things had come to such a pass that he literally did not dare to +organise again those pleasant little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> assemblies, in which he could +discuss anything and challenge all comers, with the perfect certainty of +shining as he vanquished them. It is true that he could have continued +them by carefully omitting Lord Henry from their midst; but he was by no +means a fool, and did not underestimate the intelligence of those about +him. Thus he realised the damaging effect it would be sure to have on +his prestige, if he persistently manœuvred to leave Lord Henry out; +and he knew well enough how quickly women notice such things,—they who +are such past-masters at precisely this kind of manœuvring.</p> + +<p>Had Lord Henry not come upon the scene, Denis would have been content, +as was his wont, to prolong the delicious agony of his love +indefinitely, secure in the thought that at any moment he would be able +by a word to secure Leonetta for ever to him.</p> + +<p>Now, however, there could no longer be any question of prolonging the +situation indefinitely. The only problem that occupied his mind was, +when and how to say that word to Leonetta which was to bind her for ever +to him, before she receded one hundredth of an inch from the summit of +ecstasy to which he imagined she too must have climbed in the last few +days.</p> + +<p>Thus he had been moved by a thought similar to Guy Tyrrell's; but there, +as we shall see, the likeness ceased.</p> + +<p>A girl of seventeen or eighteen is nearly always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> in danger when a man +of thirty pays attention to her,—in danger, that is to say, of +acquiescing too soon, too early in life, too unreflectedly and +ignorantly.</p> + +<p>Leonetta had been intoxicated by Denis Malster's worship. It would +perhaps be unscientific here, and therefore untrue, to overlook the fact +that the conquest of her sister's beau, had been in itself a triumphant +achievement, apart from any particular claims he might have to +attraction. But is not human nature such that in any case it is always +partially subdued by devotion? Does not even the love of an animal make +an irresistible appeal to the most callous? Is not the common preference +for dogs before cats in England, largely ascribable to the fact that the +flattery residing in devotion and affection makes such an impelling +appeal to all vain people, that the superior animal is discarded for the +inferior? The dog is grossly and offensively obscene; he is dirty, he +pollutes our streets; he is a coward, and has the pusillanimous spirit +of a rather faint-hearted lackey. The cat, on the other hand, is decent, +clean, consistently sanitary, brave, and possessed of the great-hearted +self-reliant spirit of a born warrior. The cat, however, does not fawn, +it does not flatter, it shows no devotion, it knows none of the +sycophantic wiles of the dog; but since modern mankind in England is +animated chiefly by vanity, the dog with all his objectionable +characteristics and habits is preferred.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now women, though by no means alone in the possession of vanity, are +perhaps a little more subject than men to its sway, and it is precisely +their vanity which is their greatest danger. Like the modern Englishman, +they all too frequently overlook the noble for the inferior animal, +because the latter is a better worshipper, and, particularly when they +are still in their teens, worship from the male, which is something so +novel, so exquisitely strange, and so stimulating to their self-esteem, +constitutes one of the greatest pitfalls they can encounter.</p> + +<p>Why should it necessarily be a pitfall? Precisely because it may induce +them to decide too soon in favour of an inferior man.</p> + +<p>Leonetta was therefore in danger, and Lord Henry knew it.</p> + +<p>Everything he had said and done in her presence since he had come to +Brineweald, had been deliberate, premeditated, purposeful,—all with the +intention of averting the danger she was in, or at least with the view +of giving her time to collect her senses, and to obtain some breathing +space before coming to the fatal decision.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster was sufficiently sensitive to be vaguely aware of the +element of an organised attack in the behaviour of the young nobleman, +upright and above-board as it had been; hence his hurrying of his +inestimable treasure,—the one creature that could give him +peace,—along the road to Headlinge that evening; hence too the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> tactics +he had resolved to adopt. For he felt instinctively, not only that Lord +Henry was moving against him, but also that Mrs. Delarayne was fast +becoming an open enemy.</p> + +<p>They entwined fingers discreetly as they walked along, and the moment +they had plunged into the grove, he would raise her hand from time to +time, as he spoke, and kiss it fervently. It was cool and firm, a +beautiful symbol of her beautiful body, and he was racked with a +wildness of longing by the side of which the language of Cupid sounds +like the pipe of a bird in a hurricane.</p> + +<p>It seemed to his resourceful mind that possibly the best way of securing +this girl's attachment to him, would be by a vivid appeal to her senses. +His prestige was at stake, and in this dilemma men have been known to go +to even greater lengths than when driven by sensuality alone. He did not +underestimate the vigour of her passions, and knew that in this +direction there was hope of uncontested victory.</p> + +<p>"How heavenly it is," he said, "to have you quite alone for once, with +nothing but wild nature looking on! How I loathe that crowd when it +keeps us apart even for a moment."</p> + +<p>He halted for a second, and they kissed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Leo, my darling," he continued, as they again walked slowly towards +Headlinge, "you don't know how I suffer to see you in your present +environment. You who are so natural, so essentially a creature of the +wilds, surrounded by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> things that are so artificial, so overheated, so +stagey. I shudder every time I hear you call the Warrior 'Peachy.' It +shows how grossly your true nature has been distorted to serve her +artificial ends. The beautiful word 'mother' would give the lie to the +deception she tries to practice daily upon all of us, with every means +that her art can supply. Excuse my speaking like this of your mother; +but I imagine you a wild creature of the woods, with flowing hair; your +mother a natural parent, who resigns herself cheerfully and becomingly +to age, whose face is coloured uniquely by the sun, despising as much as +you yourself surely do those petty tricks of make-believe,—those +cosmetics and hair-dyes, that don't even deceive the coarsest chauffeur +on the road,—and realising the charm of her years as much as she +admires the beauty of yours. It makes me boil to see you corrupted by +this atmosphere!"</p> + +<p>He was careful at the end of each little speech to stop and fondle her, +and to press her cool firm fingers to his lips in an ecstasy of +devotion.</p> + +<p>"You were not made to rear a town-street full of dandies, of Lord Henrys +and his like, but to be the proud dam of a stalwart race of yeomen. It +is in just such a wild setting as this that you, the Diana of a truly +British country-side, could shine to greatest perfection. You are a +child of freedom, a bird whose gorgeous wings they are trying to clip."</p> + +<p>They sat down on a bank. The brilliance of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> the moon illuminated the +country beyond. The chimneys of Sir Joseph's house were visible far away +to the right.</p> + +<p>He had another passionate outburst, convincing because he was genuinely +at his wit's end with longing. He smothered her with his embraces, +rained kisses on a face that was seductively screened by roughly +dishevelled hair, and which smiled back at him with a look of +intoxication almost equal to his own. And then at last, concluding +instinctively that the moment had come for complete forgetfulness, he +even thought he might proceed to discount bills of intimacy before they +had become due,—a practice not uncommon in England,—and he held her in +a way that was at least novel to the eager flapper.</p> + +<p>Half fearfully he waited for the effect of his daring action. She said +nothing, but simply showed her magnificent white teeth in a smile that +betokened the most complete satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Leo, fly away with me, will you? Don't let us wait to ask. Let us go. I +have savings; besides, I am no fool. It would mean leaving Bullion's of +course, but why need we mind that? You can trust me, can't you? Let us +leave this hated place, with its people who do not understand us. We +might go to Canada, where wild nature has taught people to be more +natural than they are here. Oh, say you will come with me. It would be +heavenly!"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean at once?" she exclaimed, laugh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>ing now at the transport of +devotion which had just made him kiss her feet.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose we could not go actually now, but at the latest +to-morrow at this time. We might steal away while everybody's dressing +for the dance."</p> + +<p>She was lying back on the bank, her eyes were keen with thought, her +mouth now closed in solemn reflection. Suddenly he recognised not fifty +yards away, fully revealed in the moonlight, the figures of Lord Henry +and Vanessa, walking slowly along the lower path which led to Headstone. +As he had seen Lord Henry with Agatha on the same path about an hour +before he could not at first believe his eyes. But the form of the +stylish young Jewess was unmistakable. Lord Henry must have gone back to +exchange companions. Where was Guy then? However, Leonetta had not seen +them, so it did not matter.</p> + +<p>"Quick, tell me—yes or no! because I must make all the arrangements for +our flight immediately."</p> + +<p>She made a movement to rise.</p> + +<p>"No, don't get up," he said quickly. "You've no idea how beautiful you +look there."</p> + +<p>"But I must," cried the girl, "one of my slides is sticking into my +head! If you <i>will</i> handle me so roughly," she added, smiling with the +deepest contentment.</p> + +<p>"Let me find it for you, don't get up!" he pleaded.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> + +<p>But what Delaraynes want, God wants; and in an instant his obstructing +hand was brushed aside and she was sitting up.</p> + +<p>He looked into her eyes, hoping to fasten them on himself, and keep them +off the hateful spectacle not fifty yards away. For a few seconds he was +successful. He then proceeded to kiss her again in order to blot out the +vision for yet a while longer.</p> + +<p>"Denis!" she exclaimed, "for mercy's sake let me put my slide right, and +then you can do what you like."</p> + +<p>He desisted, shaken with overstimulated craving, and then all at once, +his heart sank; for her keen eyes had seen what he hoped would have +disappeared before she could notice it.</p> + +<p>"Why, look!" she cried, "there's that little cat Vanessa walking alone +with Lord Henry!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he rejoined, with as much indifference as he could summon.</p> + +<p>"What on earth can they be doing?" she demanded craning her neck to see +as much of them as possible.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing—they're only walking. Slow enough in all conscience, I +should think."</p> + +<p>Leonetta was silent, her eyes fixed upon the couple slowly proceeding +along the lower path. What could Lord Henry possibly see in that +Jezebel! She recalled his hauteur and studious coldness towards herself, +his air of deep understanding and mastery, his magic look of wizardly +youth, his eloquence, his immense self-possession,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> his mysterious +connection with Cleopatra's indisposition and recovery. What could it be +that made him so indifferent to her?</p> + +<p>She rose.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't move!" said Denis irritably.</p> + +<p>"I must see where that little cat is taking him," she muttered. And +creeping to the nearest tree, she peered round it.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Denis ground his teeth, and flung himself back on the bank in +a spasm of impotent loathing of Lord Henry. "They're holding hands!" +whispered the girl in angry surprise.</p> + +<p>Denis craned his neck. "Nonsense!" he exclaimed, "he's only explaining +something to her. I suppose palmistry is another of his tricks or hers. +Can't you see?" He felt the spell had been broken, and was savage. "Come +and sit down, Leo!" he hissed.</p> + +<p>"Half a mo!" she cried; and then after a while she added: "Oh, I say, do +look! He's got his arm round her waist!"</p> + +<p>"She's only showing him the latest two-step!" said Denis. "Can't you +see—there—see? They're only practising a step.</p> + +<p>"So they are!" gasped the girl. She recognised her own tactics in this +dancing tuition of Vanessa's, and was obviously annoyed. "Copy-cat!" she +murmured under her breath.</p> + +<p>"Come on!" she cried at last, "let's go home."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not yet!" he implored her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I want to," she replied with impatience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, it's been such a gorgeous time!"</p> + +<p>"Who would have thought!" she exclaimed, "that that young devil——!"</p> + +<p>"Leo!" Denis remonstrated.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all she is!" snapped Leonetta, thrusting her arm roughly +into his, and jerking him forward towards the house.</p> + +<p>Denis was beside himself with fury. "Well, what about to-morrow?" he +enquired lamely, feeling all the while that the effect had been missed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll tell you to-morrow," she replied. "Quick! I want to get home +and to bed before they do. I wouldn't let her know that I'd seen her +walking with Lord Henry for worlds!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + + +<p>Lord Henry had made many friends at Brineweald, but neither was Denis +Malster quite alone. Miss Mallowcoid had not taken kindly to the +patronage Lord Henry had thought fit to extend to Mr. and Mrs. Tribe, +and the latter's assurance and good spirits in Lord Henry's presence had +succeeded in making the spinster take a very strong dislike to him. +Before he had come on the scene Mrs. Tribe had been as becomingly meek +and humble as she always was in London, but for some reason, which the +spinster could hardly explain, Lord Henry's friendship had quite +transformed her.</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid knew nothing of the deep gratitude that the unfortunate +little woman felt towards him for having put a stop to the nightly +baitings her husband had theretofore received from Denis Malster, nor +did she know of the intense devotion that the Incandescent Gerald felt +for the new guest. She could only recognise one fact,—a fact that +considerably disturbed her feeling of well-being,—and that was, that +since Lord Henry's arrival, Mrs. Tribe had behaved like an ordinary, +cheerful, and independent human being.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> + +<p>With her, against Lord Henry, Miss Mallowcoid knew that she could always +count upon Sir Joseph, because his jealousy of the young nobleman made +him scarcely rational. So that if we reckon Denis Malster as well, in +the Mallowcoid camp, it is plain that there was no inconsiderable +nucleus of hostility against Lord Henry at this time at Brineweald Park.</p> + +<p>Alone with her sister and Sir Joseph, Miss Mallowcoid had already seized +more than one opportunity of disparaging the nerve specialist of +Ashbury, and on the evening of the two proposals just described, when +the Incandescent Gerald had retired to bed, the three had an animated +discussion about Leonetta, Denis, and Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne had given her reasons for being irreconcilably opposed to +Leonetta's match with Denis, and had declared that Lord Henry was in +entire agreement with her. She had laid the blame of Cleopatra's sudden +breakdown on Denis's shoulders, and had confessed to feeling a very +strong instinctive dislike for him. She even reminded Sir Joseph of his +promise to her earlier in the day, that he would dismiss Denis from his +service.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think that would be most cruelly unfair!" exclaimed Miss +Mallowcoid, when she heard the announcement.</p> + +<p>"Why unfair?" snapped Mrs. Delarayne.</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid shook her head. "Well, Edith," she began, "of course you +know best what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> to do with your girls, but personally I think it very +honest and noble of Denis to have shown that he has changed his mind, if +he really has done so. Besides, if you think he is prepared to marry +Leonetta, why should you spoil her chances? Not that I think she +deserves him, of course, but that's neither here nor there."</p> + +<p>"No, it certainly isn't," interjected Mrs. Delarayne.</p> + +<p>"But, after all, what has it got to do with Lord Henry, I should like to +know?" pursued the spinster, trying to catch Sir Joseph's eye. "He is +here to cure Cleo, and not to meddle in all your affairs."</p> + +<p>"He is here primarily as my friend," croaked the widow.</p> + +<p>"I must say, my dear lady," said Sir Joseph, "I think there is something +in what your sister says. You are always complaining about having two +unmarried daughters on your hands. Denis is a good secretary to me. He +has good prospects. So what does it matter if he does marry Leonetta?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Joseph," cried the harassed lady, "how little you can understand of +the whole affair! And as for you, Bella, it seems to me you've got the +whole thing topsy-turvy as usual."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course!" exclaimed Miss Mallowcoid, tetchily. "But I know one +thing. Denis is an honourable and well set-up young man, and an +excellent match, and it is madness to oppose him as you are doing. Lord +Henry won't find a husband for Leonetta, I suppose!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bella, dear, if only you would for once speak of things you thoroughly +grasp and understand, it would be so refreshing!" snapped Mrs. Delarayne +angrily.</p> + +<p>"I certainly think," said Sir Joseph, "that before we do anything we +might ask Denis his intentions towards Leonetta."</p> + +<p>"But I don't like Denis, I tell you!" declared the widow. "You can see +what his intentions are without asking. Leonetta has driven him +thoroughly mad."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Edith, that is simply blind prejudice," Miss Mallowcoid +averred, herself growing every minute more irate. "You don't see it, my +dear, I know, but it is grossly unfair. A most cultivated, charming +young man! Why, the way he spoke about poetry this morning,—nothing +could have been more edifying. As for your Lord Henry,—he doesn't know +what the word poetry means."</p> + +<p>"I doubt that very much," said Mrs. Delarayne fidgeting unhappily with +the cards.</p> + +<p>"There can surely be no harm, dear lady," said Sir Joseph, "in asking +Denis what his intentions are."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne was still adamant. "I hate the insult to Cleo," she said, +"and I don't like him. But if you both insist."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph repudiated the suggestion that he insisted.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Neither do I, of course," Miss Mallowcoid exclaimed with an ironic +smile. "A lot of good I should do by insisting."</p> + +<p>"Do you propose to speak to him?" Mrs. Delarayne enquired of the +baronet.</p> + +<p>"I will if you like."</p> + +<p>"I think you might both do it," suggested Miss Mallowcoid. "At all +events, there's no immediate hurry," said Sir Joseph.</p> + +<p>At this moment Denis and Leonetta came up the steps and were greeted by +the party at the card-table.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, how hot you look!" cried Mrs. Delarayne to her daughter.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we've been stepping it out a bit, because I wanted to get home."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne noticed that her child was badly dishevelled, and that +there was an unusually fiery glint in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"What have you young people been doing all this time?" Miss Mallowcoid +enquired in her most roguish manner.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact we tried to reach Headlinge, and failed," said +Denis, looking a trifle pale in spite of his tanned skin.</p> + +<p>"I should have thought you could have gone there and back again twice +over in the time," said Mrs. Delarayne, scrutinising her daughter with +care.</p> + +<p>"Well, we didn't," said Leonetta decisively.</p> + +<p>"Had too much to say to each other on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> way," Miss Mallowcoid +interjected with a coy smile.</p> + +<p>"Where's Agatha?" Denis demanded.</p> + +<p>"She and Stephen have walked home; they were feeling tired."</p> + +<p>"And Lord Henry?" Leonetta asked.</p> + +<p>"He's gone off with my girl," said Sir Joseph with mock bitterness.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The following day broke colder and more overcast than any that the +Brineweald party had had since they left London. The programme had +therefore to be modified accordingly, and picnics and excursions +declared out of the question.</p> + +<p>In the morning the beach was visited as usual, and Lord Henry showed +himself to be, among other things, an excellent swimmer. Cleopatra had +joined the beach party though she had not bathed, but while everyone +noticed that she was looking very much better, it was also observed that +she had not her customary spirits. She no longer vied with Leonetta in +leading the entertainment of the party, and was particularly and +conspicuously subdued and laconic whenever Lord Henry addressed her.</p> + +<p>At lunch, which was taken at "The Fastness," Lord Henry thoroughly +exasperated Miss Mallowcoid by inviting the Tribes to join him on his +journey to China, and roused considerable interest by describing the +plan of his mission to that country.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> It was evident that he would +require a party of helpers, and Mrs. Tribe was most eager to be of their +number. The Incandescent Gerald, however, gravely shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Of course not,—how can you be so silly, Agnes!" Miss Mallowcoid +exclaimed. "Gerald has his religious duties here."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry saw that Mrs. Tribe did not dare to reply herself, so he +replied for her.</p> + +<p>"It only remains for me to convince Mr. Tribe, then," he said, "that in +following me to China he would be performing a very lofty religious +duty."</p> + +<p>"I'd go like a shot!" cried Stephen.</p> + +<p>"So would I!" echoed Guy Tyrrell.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon Sir Joseph asked Denis to spend a moment with him over +his correspondence, and seizing the opportunity as the others were +playing tennis, Lord Henry invited Leonetta and her sister to go with +him to Headstone to look at Sir Joseph's prize cattle there.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry's invitation to Leonetta constituted the first real attention +he had paid her since he had been down at Brineweald, and she stammered +her acceptance with ill-concealed excitement. Even with Cleo as one of +the party, her curiosity regarding him was too great for her to forego +this opportunity. She therefore begged to be allowed a moment to put on +her hat, and when she returned at the end of five minutes, it was +obvious that she had taken unusual pains with her appearance.</p> + +<p>The three turned at a leisurely pace up the road<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> towards Headstone, and +as Miss Mallowcoid saw their hats vanish on the other side of the hedge, +she announced the fact of their departure to her sister.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne was well aware of what was happening, and was not too +happy about it. Lord Henry seemed lost to her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, leave me alone, can't you!" she snarled. "Can't you see I'm +reading?" and the offensiveness of her manner seemed so unaccountable to +Miss Mallowcoid, that this lady got up in a state of high perturbation, +and deliberately stalked over to the marquee, where for a while she sat +alone brooding over the indignity she had suffered.</p> + +<p>The trio on their way to Headstone were finding it uphill work to +discover some lasting and common subject of interest with which to +entertain each other; many topics were started, but the conversation was +always desultory, and Lord Henry, try how he might, failed to make it +general. He felt as a mariner might feel who was trying to harmonise two +compasses, one of which had an error to the west, and the other an error +to the east. At last, when they were on their way home, having given up +all hope of success, he decided that the only way was to talk himself, +and this he proceeded to do with his customary enthusiasm. The subject +was suggested by Leonetta, who asked how it was that though they had +heard of him so frequently during the last five or six years, neither +Cleopatra nor she herself had ever seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> him. This introduced them to +the subject of Mrs. Delarayne, which Lord Henry seized with alacrity.</p> + +<p>"You have no idea," he said, "how I admire the perfectly splendid way +you girls deal with your mother."</p> + +<p>Leonetta looked up and scrutinised his face. She thought he must be +joking.</p> + +<p>"You are so immensely sensible and sympathetic, when it would be so easy +for you to be heartless."</p> + +<p>"Heartless—what do you mean?" Cleopatra asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, the whole thing is so simple,—Heavens, it is almost too +simple to explain!" He had that fiery way of speaking which gave to +everything he said the magic impress of vital significance.</p> + +<p>"You see," he pursued, "your mother is a really great-hearted woman, and +you girls seem to have realised it and tried to live up to her. It is +magnificent of you."</p> + +<p>Both girls were deeply interested; but Cleopatra kept her eyes on the +ground.</p> + +<p>"She is clear-sighted and honest enough to see the truth about youth and +age, and makes no bones about it. She doesn't pretend that there's any +particular beauty in old age. God!—she's one in a thousand!"</p> + +<p>"What truth about youth and age?" Leonetta asked, as she mentally +commented on the singular coincidence that both Denis the night before, +and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> Lord Henry now, should choose to speak about this particular aspect +of her mother.</p> + +<p>"Why, it must have occurred to you," Lord Henry continued, "that youth +makes a universal appeal; it is of interest to everybody. Its peculiar +fascination makes it a possession to which none can be indifferent. Do +you see that? Do you see how youth has the world's eye upon it,—how, +not only in its own, but also in all older generations, it meets with +the smile of welcome, of interest, of ready affection? All the world +over this is so."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes,—I see," cried Leonetta.</p> + +<p>"And now look on age! It has an interest indeed, but that interest is +localised. It is limited to a circle, frequently to a domestic circle, +sometimes only to one member in that circle. People say: Who is this +poor old man? Who is this poor old woman? Have they any one who cares +for them? And if it is known they have good relatives, then the interest +ceases, and the rest of the world is only too glad that their +responsibility ends in having made the enquiry. But no one asks: Who is +this poor young man? or who is this poor flapper, has she any one that +cares for her?"</p> + +<p>Leonetta laughed.</p> + +<p>"You feel," pursued Lord Henry, "that old people must have someone of +their own to love them, because the rest of the world does not do so +spontaneously. The old people and sentimentalists who speak of every age +having its beauty, are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> humbugs. Now your mother is the very reverse of +one of these humbugs. She knows well enough that old age has only a +local, a limited interest, and rather than abandon the universal +interest that youth can claim, she fights like a Trojan to retain her +youthful beauty. The bravery with which she is now holding old age at +arm's length, and defying it to embrace her is perfectly amazing. It +shows her infinite good taste; it shows how deeply she has understood +the difference between youth and age. It is one of the most thrilling +things I have ever witnessed."</p> + +<p>Leonetta laughed ecstatically. "Yes, yes, I see!" she exclaimed. "You +put it in a new light. Bravo, old Peachy!—you make me feel I want to +run home and kiss her." And then she added, as if it were an +afterthought: "Except that she hates being kissed."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra was thoughtful. "Yes, I understand all that," she said after a +while; "I have understood that for some time,—at least dimly. But then, +this local interest which you say old age excites, this local or +domestic appeal which it makes,—will not Edith ever feel that?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, don't you see, Miss Delarayne," Lord Henry replied, "this local +interest, this domestic interest on which old age depends, has to be +very strong, very intense, very highly concentrated, to make any one as +tasteful as your mother gladly relinquish the other interest."</p> + +<p>"Very, very intense," Cleopatra repeated. "Do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> you mean that in Baby—I +mean Leo—and myself it is not sufficiently intense?"</p> + +<p>Leonetta looked solemnly up into Lord Henry's face to catch every word +of his reply, and in doing so even forgot to notice that there were +young men on the road observing her.</p> + +<p>"Don't misunderstand me," Lord Henry pleaded. "I do not wish to imply +that you two girls do not love and cherish your mother. In fact, as I +have just been saying, the zeal with which you help her in every way to +achieve the end she wishes to achieve is most highly creditable. But, +have you ever known, have you ever witnessed at close quarters, the +worship of a devoted son for his mother? Have you ever been anywhere +near two people, mother and son, who have been bound by that most unique +and most passionate of affections, which has made the local interest of +old age seem sufficiently vast and full to reconcile the mother to a +happy relinquishment of that other interest,—the interest the world +feels in youth?"</p> + +<p>Still Leonetta gazed into Lord Henry's face, and still Cleopatra kept +her eyes thoughtfully on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Because, I remind you," Lord Henry concluded, "that this domestic +interest, since it is so circumscribed and restricted, has to be +proportionately more intense than the interest the whole world feels in +youth. And that intensity a son is capable, I think, of giving his +mother."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you ever witnessed that?" Leonetta enquired.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry laughed in his irresistible and ironical way. But it was +obvious that genuine mirth was not his mood.</p> + +<p>"I happen to be one of those who have actually lived it," he said.</p> + +<p>"Is your mother still living?" Cleopatra enquired.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry bowed his head. "No," he replied, with that supreme calmness +which only those feel who have discharged more than their appointed duty +to a deceased relative, "she died three years ago."</p> + +<p>For some moments the three walked on in silence; then at last Leonetta +spoke.</p> + +<p>"That does explain an awful lot about dear old Peachy, doesn't it, +Cleo?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"It explains everything," Cleopatra replied serenely.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Leonetta added, addressing Lord Henry, "we always knew you +were Peachy's star turn,—you know what I mean! But we hadn't any idea +you knew her so well. How lovely it must be to be understood so well, so +deeply, by even one creature on earth!"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry laughed.</p> + +<p>"You girls could not be expected to understand your mother as clearly as +I do," he said. "You were too close to her for that. I think you have +both done wonders."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> + +<p>They had now reached the terrace of Brineweald Park, and it wanted three +quarters of an hour to tea. The two sisters were still under the +peculiar spell of the conversation they had just had with the young +nobleman, and they did not wish to leave him. At last Cleopatra said she +would like to go in search of her mother, and Lord Henry and Leonetta +were left alone.</p> + +<p>"Do you read everybody as clearly as you've read brave old Peachy?" +Leonetta asked him.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that," Lord Henry replied, perching himself on the stone +balustrade of the terrace.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you can read me?" she enquired.</p> + +<p>He chuckled enigmatically.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that I'd get top marks with you," he said.</p> + +<p>She laughed. "Do tell me," she cried, "what you read!"</p> + +<p>At this moment Denis Malster, Guy Tyrrell, Agatha, and Vanessa appeared +round the corner of the drive, and ran quickly up the steps. Each of the +men bore a gun, and they strode eagerly towards Lord Henry and his +companion.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Leo!" Denis exclaimed as he drew near. "Excuse me interrupting +you, but Guy and I are just going into the woods to try and get a couple +of rabbits. Sir Joseph wants them to send to his head messenger at the +office. You'll see some sport."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry was silent, and covertly observed the girl at his side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, not now!" Leonetta replied, frowning ever so slightly. "Must you go +now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we must go now," Denis replied, "Sir Joseph wants them to be sent +off to-night. You don't mind, do you, Lord Henry? Perhaps you'd like to +come too?"</p> + +<p>Leonetta turned to Lord Henry to see what he would say.</p> + +<p>He swung round indolently from the view he had been contemplating, and +faced Malster.</p> + +<p>"No thanks, old chap," he said, "I'd rather not, thank you."</p> + +<p>"Well, you don't mind Leonetta coming, do you?" Denis persisted, growing +a trifle overanxious and heated.</p> + +<p>"Not in the least, of course," the young nobleman replied and turned his +head again in the direction of the landscape.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Leo!" Denis repeated, with just a shade of command in his +voice, while Vanessa, Agatha, and Guy looked on spellbound.</p> + +<p>"No, I'd rather not, really Denis, thanks!" she said. "We were just on +such an interesting subject. Can't you go after tea?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm afraid not," said Denis, his face flushing slightly with +vexation.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, leave me out of it, for once, will you?" Leonetta pleaded. +"You know I should have loved to come. But I've got something I must +finish with Lord Henry."</p> + +<p>Denis Malster turned round, hot-eared and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> savage. "All right," he +muttered. "I only thought you'd like it, that's all." And the four moved +off in the direction of the woods, Denis walking with his head thrown +more than usually back in the style that men commonly adopt when they +are withdrawing from a humiliating interview. It is as if they were +trying, like a drinking hen, to straighten their throats, in order the +better to swallow the insult they have just received.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that young man will not forgive me," said Lord Henry, when +the party were out of earshot.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's ridiculous," said Leonetta; "as if I'd never seen a bunny +shot in my life before. But let me think, what were we saying? Oh, yes, +I know. You were going to read me."</p> + +<p>He laughed.</p> + +<p>She looked coyly up at him. "You know, Lord Henry, you really are a +little disconcerting. You are one of those people who make one feel one +ought to have done better at school."</p> + +<p>"I devoutly trust I don't," he protested.</p> + +<p>She examined his fine intelligent hands, and perceived as so many had +perceived before her, the baffling mixture of deep thoughtfulness and +youth in his eyes and brow.</p> + +<p>"You do a little," she said, picking up a leaf and bending it about as +she spoke. "And I do hate feeling stupid."</p> + +<p>"You—stupid!" he ejaculated, and laughed.</p> + +<p>"You must know what I mean," she added.</p> + +<p>"You are beautiful, Leonetta," he said, "and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> that in itself is the +greatest accomplishment, because it cannot be acquired."</p> + +<p>"I thought you hadn't noticed me at all," she observed, trying to +conceal the rapture she felt.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that,—one can't help looking at people who are +constantly about one."</p> + +<p>He made an effort to give this remark the ring of indifference, and he +succeeded.</p> + +<p>"But that's exactly it!" she cried. "They say that beautiful people are +always stupid. That's why I say——"</p> + +<p>"Nobody who knows anything about it says that," he observed, as if he +were stating an interesting axiomatic principle and without a trace of +the leer of the adulator.</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not," he pursued. "For a face to be beautiful, it must have +certain proportions. It must have a certain length of nose, a certain +length of chin, and above all a certain height of brow. Do you +understand?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, then,—what is the obvious conclusion?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I don't see it," she said.</p> + +<p>"I say a certain height of brow is essential to a well-proportioned +face," he remarked with cool persuasiveness. "But what lies beneath the +brow? Come, Leonetta, you know!"</p> + +<p>"The brain?" she suggested.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he exclaimed. "And what is more, beneath the brow lies the +thinking part of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> brain. So that in order really to have a fair face +we must have a fair proportion of brain."</p> + +<p>She smiled and bowed her head.</p> + +<p>"Peachy's clever, isn't she?" she demanded. "So I suppose we girls ought +not to be so very dull."</p> + +<p>"Don't believe those who tell you beautiful people are stupid. It is the +ugly who say that to console themselves. Just as the fools of the world +write books about geniuses being mad."</p> + +<p>She laughed. "You do say funny things!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Funny?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Well, true things then. I wish everybody talked as you do. One feels so +much safer to know the truth about everything."</p> + +<p>At this point, however, Cleopatra came towards them from the house.</p> + +<p>"I've found Edith at last," she exclaimed. "She's with the others in the +marquee near the rose garden. We're just going to have tea. Are you +coming?"</p> + +<p>Lord Henry jumped down from his perch, and Leonetta ran indoors.</p> + +<p>"I'll follow you in a moment," she cried gleefully.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry and Cleopatra sauntered towards the rose garden. "Have people +been telling you how very much you've improved?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>She bowed her head and flushed slightly.</p> + +<p>"I don't say it because I wish to hear compliments," he pursued.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You've done wonders; you know it," she said, not daring to look at him +in her agitation.</p> + +<p>"It is you who have done wonders," he replied.</p> + +<p>She smiled and looked away.</p> + +<p>These two people could not talk to each other. It was impossible. All +attempts hitherto had failed, except just that first attempt when Lord +Henry had received the girl's stirring confession. It was as if both +were trying their mightiest to abide strictly by conventionalities in +order to keep within bounds. It was as if neither of them dared to give +their tongues a free rein. Never had Lord Henry felt so utterly +tongue-tied in a woman's presence; never had Cleopatra looked so serene +while completely incapable of noisy cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>"How splendid those two look side by side!" Sir Joseph exclaimed as they +approached the marquee.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne felt a twinge in her heart, and as she proceeded to pour +out tea, her loathing for Denis Malster received such a sudden access of +strength that she found it hard to be civil.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite see," she snapped, "why they look more splendid side by +side, as you put it, than one by one."</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid cast a glance full of reproach at her sister, and +wondered what it was that induced Sir Joseph to submit as kindly as he +did, day after day, to such monstrous treatment.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + + +<p>There was a dance at Brineweald that evening, and everybody who was +anybody in the neighbourhood had been invited. The Vicar's family, the +doctor's children, the Swynnertons from Barbacan, the Blights from the +Castle, and one or two people from Folkestone, were among the guests, +while a band had been ordered down from Ashbury for the occasion.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry was entirely satisfied with the arrangement. It was +calculated to keep the two Brineweald households under his eye the whole +evening, and to prevent those wanderings which, while they complicated +his task, also made it difficult for him to follow developments.</p> + +<p>To Denis Malster, on the other hand, the dance was a most unwelcome +disturbance. Fearing from the turn events had taken that day that he had +not gone far enough with Leonetta in order to be able to rely absolutely +on her single-minded attachment, he foresaw that the dance that evening +would offer few opportunities, if any, of repairing his omission, and he +was accordingly not in the best of moods to enjoy it.</p> + +<p>As the sufferer from some fatal disease is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> last to be convinced +that his condition is hopeless, so the ardent lover, for whom things are +going none too smoothly, is the last to be persuaded that he is really +losing ground.</p> + +<p>He will ascribe his rebuffs to a passing whim on the part of his +beloved, to a momentary lapse in her customary humour, to her food, to a +desire on her part to test him, to transitory evil influences from +outside, to the thermometer, the barometer, the moon!—in fact to +anything, except to the possibility that she could actually have cooled +towards him; and the more overpowering his arrogance happens to be, the +more complex and subtle will be the explanations which his imagination +will furnish for the unpleasant change in his affairs.</p> + +<p>That Denis was beginning to feel a deadly hatred for Lord Henry scarcely +requires to be stated. In fact, this feeling in him was so +irrepressible, so rapacious, that it grasped even at morsels of +nourishment it could not obtain, in the desire to strengthen itself. +Thus he had actually come to believe that Lord Henry was a charlatan; he +was prepared to prove that he had immoral intentions against every girl +in his immediate neighbourhood, and he was completely satisfied that, +like Mrs. Delarayne, Lord Henry was decades older than he admitted.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, however, a thousand petty but significant trifles showed +Denis that he no longer exercised that power over Leonetta, and could +no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> longer claim that whole-hearted devotion from her, which had marked +their relationship only a day or two previously. The girl no longer gave +him her entire attention, neither did she appear to tax her brain to the +same extent as theretofore in order to engross his every thought. From a +solid union which defied all interference, and which therefore made all +interested spectators feel uneasy, their relationship had relaxed into a +harmless and hearty friendship. But it was Leonetta who was shaking +herself loose, and the more tightly Denis clung to the strands of their +former intimacy, the more tenuous these seemed to become,—just as if +his hold on them were more frantic than their strength could bear.</p> + +<p>These signs were naturally not lost on Cleopatra. On the contrary, she +registered them every one with the accuracy of a trained observer. And +as surely as the cumulative evidence of all she saw began to point with +ever greater precision in the direction of her sister's fickleness and +mutability, the more her health improved, and the more cheerful she +became. It is remarkable how the state of being overanxious spoils a +creature's humour and mars the brightest sally. A week previously +Cleopatra could say nothing, however bright, that did not fall flat, +even beside a less brilliant outburst of her sister's.</p> + +<p>Now, with her increasing serenity, with her restored sleep, and with her +mind at rest about the issue, she recovered her lost spirits; her voice +once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> more began to be heard at table as often as Leonetta's, and the +traditional savour of Delarayne humour was maintained as faithfully by +the elder as by the younger of the two daughters.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry watched this improvement in his patient with lively interest +and amusement, but he quite well realised, notwithstanding, that the +means he had used had been exceptional, and could scarcely have been +recommended as practicable therapeutics to every practising physician in +England. Nevertheless, he felt that he had not yet completely discharged +his duty to Mrs. Delarayne, whom he loved sufficiently to serve with +zeal; and as he walked down to Sir Joseph's ballroom that evening he was +half aware that only the first stage in his campaign had been +successfully fought.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, in addition to the Tribes, Leonetta and her sister, he had +made many friends at Brineweald. Stephen and his sister were devoted to +him,—so in his way was Guy Tyrrell; while it was only Sir Joseph's +constant dread of the young nobleman's mysterious power over Mrs. +Delarayne that prevented him, too, from becoming one of Lord Henry's +devoted adherents.</p> + +<p>The dance was a great success. With scrupulous care Lord Henry divided +his attentions equally between Mrs. Delarayne and her two daughters, and +thus broke into Denis Malster's programme with Leonetta with devastating +effect. This young man was bound to dance a few dances with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> Mrs. +Delarayne and her elder daughter; he was also obliged, out of regard for +Sir Joseph, to attend to some of the baronet's guests; and thus, when it +came to his turn to claim Leonetta, he was scarcely in a mood to be +fascinating.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you?" he whispered angrily to her, as they swept +up the ballroom.</p> + +<p>"Nothing—what do you mean?" she rejoined.</p> + +<p>"You're not the same. Have I done anything to upset you?"</p> + +<p>"No——"</p> + +<p>"Well, tell me, Leo,—tell me what it is! You have been hateful to me +the whole day."</p> + +<p>"My dear boy, I haven't. What have I done? I'm just the same, if you +are."</p> + +<p>"Just the same?" Denis snorted. "Why, look how you treated me on the +terrace!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that!"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—besides, yesterday evening you said that you would tell me to-day +whether you were prepared to do what I suggested. We might have been +well away by now."</p> + +<p>Leonetta, who was enjoying the dance far too much to regret not being +"well away by now," tried to appear absent-minded.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say to-day—did I?" she observed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, if you don't remember."</p> + +<p>"I may have done."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Leo, you don't really love me. You say you do, but you don't."</p> + +<p>Nothing on earth is more wearying than an in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>jured and protesting lover. +Better never to have been loved at all than to suffer such persecution.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy, what do you want me to do?" she sighed.</p> + +<p>"Be as you were three days ago—before——"</p> + +<p>"Before what?"</p> + +<p>"Before that man came down," Denis ejaculated with the hoarseness of +rage.</p> + +<p>She smiled, and there was a suggestion of triumph in the glint of her +large canines.</p> + +<p>"He's cured Cleo, any way," she said.</p> + +<p>"A nice cure! The heat becomes too intense for somebody, a quack is +called down, the weather cools, as it did twenty-four hours afterwards, +and the quack gets the credit."</p> + +<p>In another part of the ballroom Lord Henry and Cleopatra were trying to +entertain one another, and both of them were perspiring freely from the +efforts they were making.</p> + +<p>"I think I have at last succeeded in prevailing upon the Tribes to join +me on my trip to China," said Lord Henry, hoping that this subject might +supply more conversation than the previous one had done.</p> + +<p>"What will they do?"</p> + +<p>"I must have someone, some man who is conscientious, retiring, and +willing to help me and follow my directions without pushing himself +forward. And Tribe is exactly the sort,—unassuming, conscientious, and +meek."</p> + +<p>"But what will become of the Inner Light?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hope I shall have dealt that nonsense the severest blow it has ever +received," Lord Henry exclaimed. "At any rate, Mrs. Tribe has done half +the fighting for me. She is most anxious to come. Tribe is simply one of +those people who have an itch to be doing some 'good work.' Give him the +Inner Light or my business in China, he's just as happy. Stephen may +come too."</p> + +<p>Cleopatra purred, and looked down at her toe.</p> + +<p>"This is a beautiful floor, isn't it?" said Lord Henry at last, when he +found that the topic of the Tribes also fell completely flat.</p> + +<p>"Quite as good as the best in town," Cleopatra replied, her lips +quivering slightly. "Sir Joseph had it specially built when he bought +the place."</p> + +<p>"The band is quite good, too, for a provincial,—for a provincial sort +of band," Lord Henry added.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were still downcast. "Yes, we haven't had these before. Sir +Joseph usually gets a band from Folkestone."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Mrs. Delarayne and Sir Joseph, who together had opened the +dance, were having a somewhat acrimonious discussion.</p> + +<p>"My dear Edith, I'll speak to him if you wish me to," reiterated the +baronet for the third time, "but I think it is a little premature."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Joseph, that if you don't speak to him to-morrow, for +certain, and ask him what his intentions are towards Leonetta, I shall +pack up the girls' and my own traps, and off we'll go."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> + +<p>This brought Sir Joseph to his senses. "Shall we both do it?" he +suggested unctuously.</p> + +<p>"Very well, if you prefer it. You see I can't ask Lord Henry to speak to +him, otherwise I would."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph almost lost his temper. "Lord Henry, Lord Henry!—my dear +Edith, of course not! What 'as it got to do with Lord 'Enry?"</p> + +<p>"No, that's what I say; that's why I ask you."</p> + +<p>"All right, you and I will have him in the study to-morrow, and we'll +ask Leonetta up too, and get the whole thing settled."</p> + +<p>"But mind!" said the widow gravely, "I am not at all in favour of it."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When at one <span class="smcap">a.m.</span> on the following morning, "The Fastness" party had been +driven home, Leonetta and Vanessa, much too excited to go to bed, +lingered interminably over their undressing, and sat talking until +nearly daybreak.</p> + +<p>Vanessa was feeling very happy on the whole, because she had had more +dances with Denis than she had expected. She was therefore quite +prepared to be indulgent towards her school-friend, and to exchange +notes without bitterness.</p> + +<p>"You had a lovely time with Lord Henry, didn't you?" she said. "You are +a flirt, Leo!"</p> + +<p>"My dear, it was simply heavenly."</p> + +<p>"And wasn't Denis wild!" Vanessa exclaimed, hoping to widen the breach +between these two.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was he?"</p> + +<p>"He was wild enough this afternoon, but when he saw you dancing so often +with Lord Henry—well!——"</p> + +<p>"What did he say this afternoon,—do tell me!"</p> + +<p>"He said you were too young to be always talking all sorts of deep +things with a man of forty."</p> + +<p>Leonetta laughed. "Well, I like that!" she cried. "I wasn't too young +last night, was I?"</p> + +<p>"Why, what happened last night?" Vanessa enquired, without revealing a +trace of envy in her inscrutable Jewish eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, never mind. I suppose I ought to say the night before last. +But, anyhow, Lord Henry is not forty. I asked him. He's only +thirty-three."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm only repeating what Denis said," Vanessa observed.</p> + +<p>"I know one thing, Lord Henry's jolly clever. Do you know what it is to +feel your skin creep all over while anybody's talking to you even about +simple subjects?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—rather!"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's what Lord Henry makes me feel. And what's more, he has a +ripping way of putting things scientifically to you. He never flatters +you. He proves to you on scientific principles that you are one of the +best,—do you understand?"</p> + +<p>Vanessa was delighted, and, strange as it may seem, so was Leonetta; an +unusual coincidence of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> sentiment in these two flappers—for Vanessa had +not long ceased from being a flapper—which foreboded no good to any +one.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The following day broke dull and wet for the inhabitants of Brineweald, +and for the first hour of the morning the rain was sufficiently heavy to +keep the two households apart.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry was therefore thrown on the company of Sir Joseph's party, +and he entertained them, or perhaps disturbed them, as they digested +their breakfast, by discussing various aspects of English matrimonial +arrangements. He had ruminated overnight the principle that Mrs. +Delarayne had laid down in regard to Leonetta,—"that she was much too +good for Denis Malster,"—and he was beginning to see that it was +entirely justified.</p> + +<p>"It is a pity," he declared, addressing Miss Mallowcoid, "that it is +almost impossible in this country to arrange matches. I don't see why +you can't, but you can't."</p> + +<p>Denis Malster, Guy, and the Tribes dropped their newspapers, and Sir +Joseph doing likewise, regarded the young nobleman with a perplexed +frown.</p> + +<p>"Think of the terrible responsibility!" exclaimed Miss Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but that should not deter us,—surely!" Lord Henry rejoined. +"Everything relating to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> parenthood is responsibility, why shirk that +last duty of all?"</p> + +<p>"But they wouldn't let us," Miss Mallowcoid objected.</p> + +<p>"Because they don't trust you," Lord Henry replied. "That must be the +reason. They have learned not to trust the mature adult. British parents +are either too indolent, or too incompetent to do the thing properly. +And the consequence is young people have been trained by tradition to +believe that, in the matter of choosing their mates, concerning which +they know literally nothing, and are taught less, they must be left to +their own silly romantic devices."</p> + +<p>"But look at the results!" said Miss Mallowcoid. "Surely the arrangement +works."</p> + +<p>"Does it? That's precisely what I question," Lord Henry cried.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say, do you," Denis Malster enquired, "that you would +accept a wife chosen for you by your parents?"</p> + +<p>"If they were equipped with the necessary knowledge and insight, most +certainly," Lord Henry retorted.</p> + +<p>"So it comes to this," said Mrs. Tribe, "that our matrimonial system in +this country is based upon our parents' lack of the necessary knowledge +and insight."</p> + +<p>"Precisely!" Lord Henry exclaimed. "Otherwise they would shoulder the +responsibility cheerfully."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" snapped Miss Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," added Denis, turning a smiling face to the old +spinster.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's our idea of liberty,—that's what it is!" Miss Mallowcoid +averred.</p> + +<p>"Yes; the liberty to do and think the wrong thing nine times out of +ten," was Lord Henry's comment.</p> + +<p>Denis Malster rose and went to the window. "Well, I should like the +weather to clear," he said, "so that we could set about doing something +a little more interesting than this."</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid and Sir Joseph laughed. The open hostility that was +growing between Lord Henry and the baronet's secretary enabled them to +get many a thrust at the former without so much as grazing their +knuckles.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry chuckled. "It is curious," he said quietly, "how doing +something, nowadays, is always assumed to be more interesting than +thinking something."</p> + +<p>"But you used to be so fond of arguing, Mr. Malster," Mrs. Tribe +suggested with a malicious smile.</p> + +<p>Denis grew hot about the ears, and the Incandescent Gerald, who had a +forgiving heart, frowned reprovingly at his wife.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but one gets frightfully sick of hearing one's country and its +institutions constantly run down," said Denis, casting a malevolent +glance at Lord Henry. "My country, right or wrong, is what I say."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hear, hear!" cried Miss Mallowcoid. "That's very true."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and very immoral," Lord Henry murmured. "It is the motto of +decadence. It means that the moment the Union Jack is unfurled, the +voice of criticism, the intellect, and the first principles of justice +and honest self-analysis, must be stifled."</p> + +<p>"Hullo! there's a streak of blue in the sky, and there's 'The Fastness' +<i>en bloc</i>!" cried Denis, very much relieved at the sight of his master's +car bearing all Mrs. Delarayne's household.</p> + +<p>Everybody went on to the terrace to meet them, and one by one, the +ladies, with Stephen in the rear, came up the steps in their +mackintoshes.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry noticed how amply Leonetta's frame filled her smart +rain-coat, and yet how sylph-like she appeared by the side of the rather +more heavy Jewess.</p> + +<p>"Let's go for a walk!" she cried, as she greeted the men.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" sang Cleopatra, Vanessa, Stephen, and Guy in chorus.</p> + +<p>Denis, wishing the invitation had not been so general, endeavoured to +get Leonetta to speak to him for a moment alone, but she sedulously +thwarted his manœuvres.</p> + +<p>"I'm dead!" exclaimed Mrs. Delarayne. "The dance was too much for me. If +anybody killed me now they couldn't justly be charged with taking human +life. Don't ask me to stir till lunch."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> + +<p>The younger people, including the Tribes, therefore agreed to defy the +weather and to walk to Sandlewood and back before luncheon, and, in a +few minutes the whole party was ready: Lord Henry with Cleopatra, Agatha +and Stephen in the van, Leonetta and Vanessa with Denis and Mr. Tribe +next, and Mrs. Tribe and Guy Tyrrell in the rear.</p> + +<p>Nothing of very great interest happened on the walk to Sandlewood, and +common subjects of conversation sped backwards and forwards in snatches, +from the front to the rear of the party, interrupted only by laughter +and occasional barely audible comments, which were intended for the +benefit of only one section.</p> + +<p>As usual Cleopatra and Lord Henry found it extremely difficult to rise +above the barest platitudes in their talk to each other, and Agatha was +astonished at the emptiness of their conversation. It was partly owing +to this fact that Lord Henry would occasionally start a subject, like a +wave, rolling back over the heads of those behind him, so that the acute +embarrassment that he and Cleopatra felt in each other's presence might +be slightly relieved by the unconscious participation of the others in +their <i>tête-á-tête</i>.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra was perfectly well now, and appeared supremely happy. But she +still kept her eyes on the ground, and responded almost with nervous +agitation to Lord Henry's remarks. It was as if she felt their +perfunctory nature, their conspicu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>ous jejuneness, and nevertheless, +like him, was utterly unable to broach the discussion of more serious +things.</p> + +<p>Stephen, too, was a little disappointed with his hero, and wondered what +could have come over him, that he should suddenly have grown as +commonplace as Sir Joseph himself. He constantly looked back with +curious longing, as the laughter from behind became more persistent, and +it was only hope still undefeated that made him cling to Lord Henry's +side.</p> + +<p>When a man on a walk calls the attention of his companions to the +condition of the hedges; when he notices that the road wants mending, or +that the ditches are either clean or overgrown; when, moreover, he +comments on the early discolouration of the leaves of certain distant +trees, it can clearly be due only to one of two causes: either his +conversation never rises above the level of such subjects, or else, some +influence is active which has so severely shaken his composure as to +leave him utterly destitute of thought.</p> + +<p>If women divine, even half-consciously, that the latter is the reason, +they are, however, patient and tolerant, where his temporary stupidity +is concerned. But Stephen was not a woman, neither was Agatha +half-consciously aware of the true cause of Lord Henry's transient +dullness.</p> + +<p>On the way home there was a general shuffling of the members of the +party, and to Lord Henry's relief, Leonetta, Mrs. Tribe, and Guy +Tyrrell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> sprang eagerly to his side, while Agatha, Cleopatra, and +Stephen joined Denis, Vanessa, and the Incandescent Gerald in front.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra's persistent and yet unaffected affability to Denis had now +become one of the added terrors of Brineweald to this unfortunate young +man, and what struck him as particularly strange was that the more +animated and hilarious became the conversation behind, between Lord +Henry and Leonetta, the more perfectly natural and cheerful did +Cleopatra appear to grow. He had done his utmost to convey to Leonetta +on the walk out that he insisted on her returning with him at her side. +He hoped that the girl had seen what he himself thought he +perceived—that is to say, a growing intimacy between Lord Henry and her +sister,—and that this would induce her to do as he desired. Leonetta, +however, was at times unaccountably dense. She had escaped from him at +Sandlewood, and, to his utter bewilderment, the sound of her voice now, +in animated converse with Lord Henry, seemed to leave Cleopatra entirely +unperturbed.</p> + +<p>Had Cleopatra hopes?</p> + +<p>Truth to tell, Cleopatra had more than hopes; she was partially +convinced that these were confirmed. She could be affable to Denis, she +could be kind to Leonetta,—aye, she could even have embraced her worst +tormentor now, and with sincere friendship, because she was supremely +and profoundly happy. Even if Lord Henry did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> feel anything for +her,—and his extraordinary behaviour rather invalidated that +alternative,—she had at least encountered a man who rose to the +standard of her girlhood's ideal, who made her feel that hitherto she +had not been wrong in experiencing a faint feeling of dissatisfaction +about the other men she had met, and who therefore consoled her for +having waited. And, with this conviction in her heart, she was able at +once to classify Denis Malster among the "impossibles." She saw now how +much more her recent trouble had been the outcome of wounded vanity, +than of thwarted passion, and she was able to treat her former admirer +with a lavish good humour and friendliness that completely froze him.</p> + +<p>She too caught snatches of the conversation behind. She heard how +animated and hilarious it was. And, comparing it with Lord Henry's +attitude not thirty minutes previously, she felt convinced that it was +she this time, and not her sister, who had conquered. As she came to +this conclusion, a strange thrill, utterly new and inexperienced +theretofore, pervaded her whole body, until the titillation of her +nerves became almost painful, and a fierce longing for the bewildering +personality at her back suddenly possessed her as a conscious and +uncontrollable desire.</p> + +<p>When they were half-way out of the wood Leonetta suddenly announced that +she had dropped a bangle. She and Lord Henry had been losing ground for +some time, and having separated them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>selves from Mrs. Tribe and Guy +Tyrrell, had fallen much to the rear.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you had it with you?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely certain," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Let's go back then," said Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>They turned and began to retrace their steps along the path that led +back to Sandlewood village, keeping their eyes on the ground as they +went.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a cry from Guy made them stop.</p> + +<p>"What are you two up to?" he shouted. "You'll be late for lunch."</p> + +<p>"All right, you go back and tell them to start without us!" cried Lord +Henry. "Leonetta's lost her bangle."</p> + +<p>Guy nodded, and continued on his way homeward with Mrs. Tribe.</p> + +<p>"That's a nice thing!" Lord Henry observed.</p> + +<p>"Of course, they'll think I've done it on purpose!" Leonetta rejoined, +smiling roguishly.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry smiled too. She certainly seemed to understand that her +character was not incompatible with such a conclusion.</p> + +<p>They walked on thus for about five minutes, and then suddenly Lord Henry +espied the ornament lying in the mud.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so thankful to you, Lord Henry,—you've no idea!" she cried. "I +should never have found it myself."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry was facing the homeward path, and she had her back turned to +it. With great care he removed the offending particles of mud from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> the +recovered treasure, and then fastened it on her arm. At the same moment, +at a bow-shot from him, he saw Denis approaching at a rapid pace through +the wood. Evidently he was coming in the hope of finding the bangle, and +behind him followed Vanessa and the Incandescent Gerald.</p> + +<p>It seemed as if Fate itself had been active here, and had laid this +unique opportunity in Lord Henry's hands. It was certainly too good to +lose, and feeling perfectly certain that Denis could not know that his +approach had been perceived, resolved immediately upon a drastic, but as +he thought, conclusive measure.</p> + +<p>It was unfortunate that the Incandescent Gerald, whose sole object in +coming was probably his besetting desire to "do good work," as Lord +Henry put it, was also in sight. But there are certain risks that a good +strategist must run.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't know how thankful I am!" Leonetta cried again.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry smiled. There was no time to lose. "I think that almost +deserves a kiss," he said, placing an arm round her waist.</p> + +<p>She looked up; her expression spelt consent, and he held her for some +seconds in his arms.</p> + +<p>"Well!" she cried, releasing herself; "it seems to me I go from bad to +worse."</p> + +<p>He looked in the direction of home, and, as he feared, Vanessa, Denis, +and the Incandescent Gerald had turned their backs, and were racing as +hard as they could towards Brineweald Park.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + + +<p>"Are you sure it's quite clean?" asked Lord Henry, catching hold of her +hand and examining the bangle closely, so as to retain her a few moments +longer.</p> + +<p>"What does it matter?" Leonetta cried. "Really, I'm sure it's all +right."</p> + +<p>He looked up. There was no sign of the three fugitives, and he allowed +her to turn round.</p> + +<p>"Now we must step it out, I'm afraid," he said.</p> + +<p>Leonetta laughed gleefully. "What fun, isn't it?" she chirped. "I wonder +how it fell off!"</p> + +<p>"Simply one of those strange accidents which go to determine the course +of our lives," he observed calmly. "By accidentally throwing a tennis +ball further than he intended, Sir Sidney Smith was ultimately able to +decide the fate of Napoleon's campaign in Syria; the British Throne was +once lost by just such an accident as this, and Kellermann's charge at +Marengo was of the same order."</p> + +<p>She looked up into his thoughtful face. His self-possession was one of +the most wonderful features about him.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" she exclaimed. "I hardly know whether you are +serious or not."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you never heard," he pursued, "of the story of that priceless +Arabian pearl, which, after it had been missing for months was +ultimately returned to its owner by a bird? Meanwhile, however, the +owner in question had been robbed of all he possessed, and the pearl +itself would certainly have gone too, if it had not been accidentally +hidden where only the bird could have found it. One day the bird was +killed, the treasure was found in its nest, and the owner was restored +to a state of affluence, of which, if the pearl had not originally been +lost, he must have despaired till the end of his days.</p> + +<p>"You are walking fast," said Leonetta breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Yes,—do you mind?"</p> + +<p>"We shan't be so very late."</p> + +<p>"I should prefer not to be late," said Lord Henry, "I know Sir Joseph +studies punctuality."</p> + +<p>Truth to tell, the young nobleman's imagination had for the last few +minutes been busy with more vital matters than the framing of fresh +contributions to the Arabian Nights' Entertainment, and he was feeling +none too well at ease. It had occurred to him that his drastic action +might have more disastrous effects than merely nipping Denis's passion +in the bud, and he wished to rejoin the company at Brineweald at the +earliest possible moment.</p> + +<p>"I assure you, Lord Henry, that you can take it much more easily," cried +Leonetta.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me give you my arm," he suggested. "That will help you."</p> + +<p>She took his arm, and he proceeded to tell her how probably a chance +unpleasant word dropped by Charles I. to Lady Carlisle had ultimately +led to the Grand Rebellion.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Denis Malster, panting more with fury than from the violent +exercise he had taken, had reached the terrace of Brineweald Park, and +was looking about him for someone to whom he could confide his +incriminating intelligence against Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>"All alone?" cried Mrs. Delarayne, coming towards him. "My word, how hot +you look!"</p> + +<p>"Vanessa and Tribe are close behind," he said; "they'll be here in a +minute. Where are the others?"</p> + +<p>"Cleopatra, Agatha, Agnes, and Guy have just come in," replied the +widow. "But where's Leonetta?"</p> + +<p>"She's somewhere," he said indifferently. "Lost her bangle or +something." And he passed on, making towards the smoking-room, the door +of which was open.</p> + +<p>Evidently Mrs. Delarayne was not to be his confidante, and, as he +vanished behind the glass doors, she wondered what his strange manner +could signify.</p> + +<p>There was no one in the smoking-room, and he moved on into the lounge.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph was there, sipping an <i>aperitif</i> with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> Guy, and sitting +around them were Miss Mallowcoid and the first arrivals, still clad in +their mackintoshes. They were all discussing the arrangement for some +rabbit shooting in the afternoon. Sir Joseph wanted the rabbits for his +men in Lombard Street.</p> + +<p>Cleopatra and everyone looked up as Denis entered.</p> + +<p>"Well?" enquired Guy, "did you find the bangle?"</p> + +<p>Denis braced himself for a great effort and, smiling with as much good +humour as he could muster, helped himself to a glass of sherry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, what about the bangle?" Stephen exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"When I last saw them," Denis observed with creditable composure, "they +were too busy kissing to be able to find any bangle."</p> + +<p>As he pronounced these words he glanced furtively at Cleopatra, but +although he noticed that she winced, he was not a little surprised to +see how collected and serene she remained. Did she perhaps think he was +lying?</p> + +<p>"They were what?" cried Miss Mallowcoid.</p> + +<p>"Too busy, kissing,—kissing," Sir Joseph repeated.</p> + +<p>The spinster rose.</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" cried Stephen. "He's only joking, Miss Mallowcoid."</p> + +<p>"Of course!" interjected Mrs. Tribe.</p> + +<p>"Well, what of it?" Sir Joseph exclaimed, "even if they were."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But who, who were kissing?" the old spinster demanded, going up to +Denis.</p> + +<p>Denis laid his empty glass upon the tray and walked quietly out. Miss +Mallowcoid evidently taking his departure as a hint, followed close +behind.</p> + +<p>In the smoking-room he turned and faced her.</p> + +<p>"What is all this about?" she enquired.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know what you think," said Denis with tremendous gravity; +"but really, when a man close on forty, not only entertains a child with +all kinds of unsuitable conversation, but also inveigles her into the +woods alone in order to kiss her, it seems to me things have really gone +far enough."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean Lord Henry, do you?" ejaculated Miss Mallowcoid, +clasping her hard white hands in horror.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to say I do!" Denis rejoined just as Vanessa and the +Incandescent Gerald, who had also returned home, came in through the +smoking-room and vanished into the lounge.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but this it monstrous!" cried Miss Mallowcoid. "Does her mother +know?"</p> + +<p>"No, I've said nothing," said Denis, as the gong went for lunch. "If I +hadn't been pressed I shouldn't have said anything even now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but it was very noble of you to tell us," said Miss Mallowcoid, +pondering a moment what she could do. "Very noble. Thank you, thank you, +Denis!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile Vanessa and the Incandescent Gerald had naturally been +questioned by Sir Joseph, and Lord Henry's champion, Stephen; and it was +not until the Incandescent Gerald had admitted very solemnly and +reluctantly that he was afraid he did see Lord Henry embrace Leonetta, +that Stephen was appeased, or rather silenced.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm surprised, that's all," said the youth, and as he said this, +Cleopatra, very pale and a little unsteady on her feet, glided quietly +out of the room.</p> + +<p>She had disbelieved it until the end. It was only when the incorruptible +Gerald Tribe had admitted it that she also had been convinced.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>In a few minutes the whole party, except Cleopatra, was assembled round +the luncheon table. Lord Henry and Leonetta had returned, and what with +her joy over her recovered bangle, and her pride in Lord Henry's +recently revealed affection, few could have looked more guiltless and +more free from care than the heroine of the morning's adventure.</p> + +<p>Miss Mallowcoid ate little. Her faith in the desirability of human life +in general had been rudely shaken. She therefore kept her eyes fastened +sadly on the immoral couple, and wondered how two such sinful beings +could eat and talk so heartily.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lord Henry, however, was not quite as bright as his fellow sinner, for +the dramatic absence of Cleopatra from the luncheon table made him feel +somewhat apprehensive. From the way in which Mrs. Delarayne assured him +that it was only a passing <i>migraine</i> that was keeping her daughter +away, he was led to hope that it was truly only one of those curious +accidents, or coincidences, concerning which he had been discoursing to +Leonetta on the way home; but he was not devoid of sensitiveness, and +something in the manner of all present, except Mrs. Delarayne, led him +to fear the worst.</p> + +<p>He was not at all alarmed by Denis's haggard and angry mask, for that he +had expected. What he would like to have known was why Miss Mallowcoid +and Sir Joseph regarded him so strangely, and why Stephen looked so sad.</p> + +<p>Denis scarcely addressed a word to Leonetta, and whenever he was +constrained to vouchsafe a laconic answer to any question from her, he +glanced significantly at Miss Mallowcoid for her approval.</p> + +<p>After lunch Lord Henry conveyed to Mrs. Delarayne that he would like to +speak to her alone, and she followed him out on to the terrace.</p> + +<p>"I want to see Cleopatra,—do you think I might?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and ask her," replied the widow.</p> + +<p>"By-the-bye," he added, "have you been told anything about Leonetta and +myself in the wood this morning?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," she replied, with perfect honesty.</p> + +<p>"Well, whatever you may hear," he said, "trust entirely to me."</p> + +<p>She smiled approvingly, and went off in search of Cleopatra.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry joined the others. He was certainly very much relieved to +hear that Mrs. Delarayne had been told nothing. Did that mean that +Cleopatra also had been told nothing? He noticed, however, that as soon +as he came up to the group consisting of Miss Mallowcoid, Denis, Sir +Joseph, and Guy, their conversation stopped.</p> + +<p>"Who's going rabbit-shooting?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"We all are!" cried Mrs. Tribe, coming towards him from another part of +the terrace; "isn't it fun?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tribe was the only member of the party, besides Leonetta, who was +still perfectly affable to him, but even in her eyes, he thought he saw +the suggestion of strained good cheer.</p> + +<p>"May I come?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course!" cried Leonetta.</p> + +<p>"I shall want you for a minute or two, remember, Denis," Sir Joseph +observed. "Mrs. Delarayne has told you, I think."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Denis.</p> + +<p>At this moment Mrs. Delarayne reappeared. She looked a trifle anxious +and motioned to Lord Henry to join her.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid she must have gone home," she said. "She can't be found."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Can't be found?" cried Lord Henry, with a note of deep alarm in his +voice. Could she possibly have been among those who that morning had +returned to help find the bangle, and he had not seen her, though she +had seen him?</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shouldn't worry," continued Mrs. Delarayne. "She's gone home, +that's all. Don't look so dreadfully concerned!"</p> + +<p>"Do you really think so?" he enquired. He felt uneasy notwithstanding. +The coincidence, if it were a coincidence, was singular in the extreme. +And yet he could not believe that Denis had told her, and Vanessa and +Tribe had surely not had time to do so. He had seen them ascend the +steps of the terrace. Besides,—why should they? Nevertheless, the +predicament was an awkward one. He had counted on speaking to Cleopatra +directly after lunch.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind if I went to 'The Fastness'?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. Go by all means," Mrs. Delarayne rejoined. "But is it as +urgent as all that?"</p> + +<p>"It's very urgent," said Lord Henry.</p> + +<p>She scrutinised him for a moment in silence. She had always had a dark +presentiment that her daughters would come between her and this man.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry turned back into the house, fetched his hat and rain-coat, +and in a moment was striding rapidly towards the Brineweald gate.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The shooting party was to leave at three o'clock, and two of the +under-keepers with the ferrets were to meet them at the edge of the wood +at a quarter past. It was now half-past two. Sir Joseph was enjoying his +afternoon nap. Mrs. Delarayne, closeted in the library, was listening to +her sister's indictment of Lord Henry, and the others were chatting on +the terrace.</p> + +<p>Denis, who had a pretty shrewd suspicion of what his interview with Sir +Joseph and Mrs. Delarayne portended, looked anxiously at his watch and +rose. He signed to Leonetta that he would like her to join him, but as +she made no effort to move, he went over to her, and leaning over the +back of her chair, whispered that he would be glad if she would take a +short stroll with him.</p> + +<p>She rose laboriously, as if he were placing himself under a tremendous +obligation to her, by making her go to so much trouble; and, after +assuring the others that she would not be long, followed Denis with that +jerky mutinous gait in which each footfall is an angry stamp;—it is +characteristic of women all the world over, when they are induced to do +something of which they disapprove. For she was wondering where Lord +Henry could be, and feared lest, by leaving the terrace, she would miss +him when he returned.</p> + +<p>"You know we start off at three," she said to Denis, as she caught him +up.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," he replied gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Well, we haven't much time, have we?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You're not going far, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Only to the rose-garden," he snapped. "Don't be alarmed! I shan't keep +you longer than I can help."</p> + +<p>He lighted a cigarette. Vaguely he felt that some such subsidiary +occupation might prove helpful.</p> + +<p>"In a moment of pardonable madness," he began, "the night before last, +when I rather lost my head in my passion, I made a proposition to you +which I should now like to recall."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean that it was not sincere," he pursued, "or that I was not +moved by an unalterable feeling. I mean that it was not serious enough."</p> + +<p>"Not serious enough?" she repeated.</p> + +<p>"No, perhaps it was not quite the right thing, either," he said. "And +I'm very sorry."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," she rejoined cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Well, it isn't," he observed. "Because, Leo, I seriously wanted you, +and I want you still. And I ought to have asked you to become engaged to +me in the proper and ordinary way, instead of what I did say."</p> + +<p>She was silent. Her head was bowed, and she kicked one or two stones +along as she walked.</p> + +<p>He caught hold of her hand. "I want you to forget what I said the night +before last," he continued, "and to ascribe it all to the madness of my +feelings. I want you to say, too, that I may consider,—that from now +onwards I mean,—that we are properly engaged."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span></p> + +<p>Still she made no reply.</p> + +<p>"Come, Leo, you're not hesitating, are you? Won't you marry me?"</p> + +<p>She stopped, released her hand from his, and averted her gaze.</p> + +<p>"Say you'll marry me, Leo! So that I can tell them in a minute or two +that you have consented. Do!"</p> + +<p>"Whatever made you think of this?" she exclaimed fretfully.</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking of it for some time. I mean it truly," he +stammered.</p> + +<p>"But I thought you loved my sister!"</p> + +<p>Denis retreated a step or two and regarded the girl for a moment in +mystified silence.</p> + +<p>He was staggered. This piece of brazen audacity on her part petrified +him, and his face betrayed his speechless astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I really did, Denis. I thought you loved Cleo."</p> + +<p>"But then," he gasped, "what—what have you and I been doing all this +time?"</p> + +<p>"When?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the day before yesterday, and the day before that, and the day +before that!—in fact ever since I came down here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought you were simply having a good time," she protested, +looking perfectly guileless and charming.</p> + +<p>"Well!" he exclaimed, choking with mingled stupefaction and rage, "I've +never heard anything——"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I did really," she interrupted. "I thought you were only flirting."</p> + +<p>"You let me go far enough to believe anything," he objected, this time +with a savour of moral indignation.</p> + +<p>"I thought it was too far to believe anything," was her retort.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you any feeling for me, then?" he cried, utterly nonplussed.</p> + +<p>She dug the toe of her shoe into the ground, and watched the operation +thoughtfully. "Not in that way—no."</p> + +<p>"What?—do you allow anybody to hug you then?"</p> + +<p>"No, of course not!" she replied. "I did like you, and I like you still. +But not in that way."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—not in that way?" he demanded a little angrily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," she replied, beginning to swing her arms with +boredom; "I mean that I hadn't looked upon you as a possible husband, I +suppose."</p> + +<p>He flushed with vexation.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" he enquired in scolding tones.</p> + +<p>She glanced into his face for the first time during the interview. She +saw the bloated look of mortified vanity in his eyes, and she was a +trifle nauseated.</p> + +<p>"Let's be getting back," she suggested.</p> + +<p>He turned reluctantly in the direction of the house.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You have not spoken the truth, Leo," he remarked in the tense manner of +one who is making a violent effort to moderate his fury.</p> + +<p>"I'm certainly trying to," she said.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you the truth?" he snarled.</p> + +<p>"No—please don't!"</p> + +<p>He was silent for a moment, swallowing down his wrath.</p> + +<p>"It's that man!" he said at last. "That's who it is. If I had asked you +three days ago you would—you would have consented. It's that man!"</p> + +<p>She cast a glance askance at him. He was boiling with mortification now, +and perhaps nothing makes even the noblest features look more mean than +the smart of a rebuff.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know what you're driving at," she said calmly.</p> + +<p>He laughed bitterly. But his cheeks were pricking him, and the garden +danced before his eyes.</p> + +<p>"It's Lord Henry, of course," he sneered. "He has conquered your +affections meanwhile."</p> + +<p>"Don't be ridiculous!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, shall I go and tell him for you this minute that you are +perfectly indifferent to him?"</p> + +<p>She made an effort to compose her features. "You can if you like," she +replied.</p> + +<p>"No, that wouldn't suit your little game, would it?"</p> + +<p>"I have no little game," she snapped.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, it's big game,—the son of a marquis!"</p> + +<p>They were at the foot of the terrace. He had succeeded in infuriating +her. Her eyes shot fire and she stamped her foot. "That's simply +vulgar!" she cried, loud enough for those on the terrace to hear. +"You're vulgar!"</p> + +<p>He retreated hastily to the steps that led to the drawing-room, whence +he regarded her with a malevolent scowl. He could have said so much more +to her, so many more wounding things. It was intolerable to be called +"vulgar," when one had controlled one's wrath as he had done.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile she, bracing herself for a dignified entrée, walked slowly up +the steps, and faced the others who were just about to move off to the +woods.</p> + +<p>"Why, I haven't a gun!" she exclaimed, as she joined them.</p> + +<p>"Here you are!" said Stephen. "I've brought one for you."</p> + +<p>She smiled gratefully at him. "That was thoughtful of you," she said.</p> + +<p>And Stephen, feeling somehow that, since her affair with Lord Henry that +morning, Leonetta had gone over at one step to that vast majority of +worldly females who, in his boyish imagination, appeared to him +mistresses of the great secrets of life, blushed slightly and turned his +head away.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + + +<p>Sir Joseph, having risen from his post-prandial snooze and found Mrs. +Delarayne, had led that lady to the drawing-room, and was now engaged in +trying to convince her of the general wisdom of all that she had been +hearing from her sister.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, my dear Edith," he said, "that I have considerable +difficulty in believing that your Lord Henry is the great man you say he +is."</p> + +<p>"Of course you have," she cried. "It is always difficult to believe that +a really great man could ever deign to cross our threshold, much less +shake hands with us! We feel we are too mediocre for that!"</p> + +<p>"I don't mean that!" he said, shaking his head helplessly, although he +had not understood her real meaning.</p> + +<p>"Joseph,"—Mrs. Delarayne began seriously,—"shall I tell you what it +is? You are jealous."</p> + +<p>He laughed uproariously. "Oh, Edith, it takes you to say a thing like +that! Absurd! Absurd!" Then he added seriously. "But really, I have +heard things about Lord Henry that have compelled me to lose my respect +for him."</p> + +<p>"Who told you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Denis, for one."</p> + +<p>"Denis is jealous too!" cried the widow.</p> + +<p>"Now, my dear, do be reasonable! Are we all jealous of Lord Henry then?"</p> + +<p>"I should think it most highly probable—yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyway," Sir Joseph continued, frowning darkly, "Denis assured me +on his oath,—on his oath, understand, that Lord Henry, this son of a +noble marquis, this wonderful nerve specialist, this reformer of the +world, this——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all right, Joseph. You don't shine at that sort of oratory. What +has Lord Henry done?"</p> + +<p>"He has not only constantly engaged Leonetta in unsuitable conversation, +but to-day, he actually kissed her!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne laughed. "I told you Denis was jealous," she exclaimed. +"Knights errant always are. I've always suspected that St. George was +jealous of the dragon."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, while Sir Joseph's slow brain was working this out, she +snatched a moment to ponder how her noble young friend could possibly +have found it necessary to go to such unexpected extremes.</p> + +<p>"Don't be unfair, Edith," Sir Joseph objected. "Denis was quite right to +tell us. Lord Henry is much too old to kiss a child like Leonetta."</p> + +<p>"You mean he is just old enough."</p> + +<p>The baronet waved his hands in a mystified<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> manner before him. "I cannot +understand you," he replied.</p> + +<p>It was at this point that Denis burst in upon them.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," he said, "you wanted to discuss something with me, +I believe," he added, addressing Sir Joseph.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we did,—that is to say, Mrs. Delarayne," stammered the baronet. +He was always a little uncomfortable when he felt constrained to be +amiable to one of his staff.</p> + +<p>"We both wished to speak to you, Denis," said Mrs. Delarayne. "Sit down, +will you."</p> + +<p>Denis sat down and folded his arms,—a position Mrs. Delarayne had never +seen him assume before.</p> + +<p>"It is about Leonetta," she added.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Denis. He was completely dazed. He had just felt that +"one touch of nature" which nowadays sets the whole world's teeth on +edge,—Eve completely and cheerfully unscrupulous, Eve wild and untamed, +cruel and heartless while her deepest passions are still unengaged,—and +he felt like one bewitched.</p> + +<p>"We wish to ask you," began Sir Joseph pompously.</p> + +<p>"Please let me speak," interrupted the widow. "We have noticed,—nobody +could have helped noticing,—that since you have been down here you have +been paying my daughter Leo unusually marked attention."</p> + +<p>"But surely you have also noticed—" Denis objected.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span></p> + +<p>"One moment!" cried Mrs. Delarayne. "I do not say that Leo isn't +attractive. I know she's exceedingly attractive,—so attractive that, I +understand, even Lord Henry appears to have fallen a victim to her +charm."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and perhaps you have also heard—" the young man muttered with +some agitation.</p> + +<p>"I have heard everything," said the widow. "All I suggest is, that since +Leo is still a child, and has not perhaps the strength to bear a heavy +heart strain as easily as a girl of Cleopatra's age, we should like any +attitude you choose to adopt towards her to be made perfectly plain from +the start. Do you understand, Denis? I don't wish to be unfriendly."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you," protested Denis, who had been rendered none too +comfortable by the sting in Mrs. Delarayne's last remarks, "that all +along I have always been in deadly earnest, I have always——"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" cried the masterful matron. "I don't want to hear now what your +sentiments are. All I want you to do is to be quite plain to my little +daughter. Do you want to become engaged to her, or not?"</p> + +<p>"I do most earnestly," said the young man, "but——"</p> + +<p>"But what?" growled Sir Joseph sternly.</p> + +<p>"She now says she has no feeling whatever for me," Denis explained.</p> + +<p>The baronet turned upon his secretary, scowled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> and then regarded Mrs. +Delarayne in astonishment. "No feeling whatever?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Has she actually told you this?" Mrs. Delarayne demanded with tell-tale +eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, this minute," Denis replied. "I can hardly believe it," he added +with the usual ingenuousness of all vain people. "I can only think that +a momentary infatuation for Lord Henry, who has spared no pains to——"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you have asked her to marry you and she's refused?" +Sir Joseph enquired, observing the young man's painful discomfiture.</p> + +<p>"Yes, this very minute."</p> + +<p>"Quite positively?" Mrs. Delarayne demanded.</p> + +<p>"As far as I can make out—yes," Denis replied. He was so completely +bewildered by the rebuff, that the incredulity of his two seniors made +it seem all the more impossible to him.</p> + +<p>"'Pon my soul!" Sir Joseph exclaimed, utterly abashed.</p> + +<p>He could get no further. The prospects of getting Mrs. Delarayne's +daughters married appeared to grow gloomier and gloomier.</p> + +<p>"Then that's settled, you see, Sir Joseph," Mrs. Delarayne remarked. She +had been induced to have this interview with Denis against her will. Her +sister and the baronet had prevailed over her better judgment, and now +that she saw the issue of it was to be more satisfactory than she could +possibly have hoped, she had difficulty in concealing her pleasure.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span></p> + +<p>At this point the report of a fire-arm made them all turn in the +direction of Sandlewood.</p> + +<p>"They seem to have got a rabbit before reaching the woods," Sir Joseph +observed. "That sounded extraordinarily near."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delarayne was silent. She was obviously making an effort not to +appear too highly gratified by the news she had heard, and was regarding +Denis thoughtfully,—her eyebrows slightly raised, and her fingers +drumming lightly on the arms of her chair.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," she repeated, "I'm afraid that's settled,—isn't it, Sir +Joseph?"</p> + +<p>Another report was heard, and Sir Joseph rose.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what the deuce they're doing!" he exclaimed going to the +window.</p> + +<p>"Probably got a stray rabbit, or a hare, on their way," suggested Denis.</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph turned from the window to face his secretary.</p> + +<p>"That's very odd. So she refused you?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely."</p> + +<p>"But you shouldn't despair over one refusal," he exclaimed, casting a +glance full of meaning at Mrs. Delarayne. "A man doesn't lie down under +one reverse of that sort."</p> + +<p>He chuckled, and glanced backwards and forwards, first at his secretary +and then at Mrs. Delarayne, hoping she would understand his profound +implication.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You must 'ave more perseverance," he added.</p> + +<p>Denis remembered the word "vulgar." He remembered the concentrated fury +and contempt that the flapper had put into the expression, and he +instinctively felt that it was hopeless.</p> + +<p>"I think what I should like to do," he said, "is to leave here, if you +will allow me to; finish my holiday elsewhere, and see whether, +meanwhile, a change may not come over Leonetta. If it doesn't, then +there's an end of it."</p> + +<p>"You mean to leave here at once?" enquired the baronet.</p> + +<p>"Yes," interposed Mrs. Delarayne; and then she proceeded to explain to +Sir Joseph what Denis meant, and declared his scheme to be eminently +dignified and proper. It met with her entire approval.</p> + +<p>A discussion followed as to the best way of explaining to the others the +reason of Denis's sudden departure, and various suggestions were made. +Sir Joseph volunteered to be able to account for the young man's absence +on the score of business. Denis himself inclined to the view that some +family trouble would provide the best excuse. His mother might be ill. +But Mrs. Delarayne, anxious above all to avoid the sort of explanation +that might provoke dangerous sympathies for Denis in any female heart, +agreed that a business excuse would be best.</p> + +<p>It was therefore decided that Sir Joseph would receive a sudden summons +from London, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> Denis would be dispatched to attend to the business, +and that what happened after that the rest of the party would not need +to be told.</p> + +<p>All at once a commotion on the terrace, in which the clamour of a score +of different voices, all making different suggestions at the same time, +mingled with the sound of heavy footfalls, caused the party in the +drawing-room to repair to the scene of the disturbance.</p> + +<p>"What on earth's the matter?" cried Mrs. Delarayne aghast, as she beheld +the group advancing slowly from the top of the steps. "Anybody hurt?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Agatha coming towards her, and looking very much agitated. +"Stephen has been shot in the shoulder."</p> + +<p>"Nothing serious!" shouted the injured youth, as he came forward on the +arms of Guy and the Incandescent Gerald.</p> + +<p>"Has a doctor been sent for?" Sir Joseph demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, one of the under-keepers went to the garage, and a car left a +moment ago," said Agatha.</p> + +<p>"But how did it happen?" cried Mrs. Delarayne shrilly.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry did it," said Miss Mallowcoid, nodding her head resentfully, +as if to imply to her sister that now there could no longer be any +question as to who had been right all this time in regard to their +estimate of the young nobleman.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry?" Mrs. Delarayne repeated, utterly confused.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, he did it by accident," Mrs. Tribe explained.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry!" the baronet ejaculated under his breath. "Damn Lord +Henry!" And Mrs. Delarayne, Miss Mallowcoid, and Denis regarded him each +in their own peculiar way.</p> + +<p>Stephen was laid on Mrs. Delarayne's <i>chaise-longue</i> on the terrace. +Brandy was fetched and Mrs. Delarayne knelt down beside him. His +shoulder was already neatly bandaged, but his torn shirt, his waistcoat, +and his sleeve, were saturated with blood.</p> + +<p>"Is it painful, dear lad?" Mrs. Delarayne enquired.</p> + +<p>"No, not so very," he replied.</p> + +<p>"He only says that, of course!" Miss Mallowcoid averred in a whisper to +Sir Joseph. "But you can see he's in agony." The spinster was evidently +desirous of making the case look as black as possible.</p> + +<p>"Who bandaged him up like that?" Sir Joseph asked of Guy.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph tossed his head. It seemed as if he must never hear the last +of that name. "But where is he?" he enquired.</p> + +<p>"I can't think," said Mrs. Tribe. "As soon as he had sent someone after +a doctor and bandaged Stephen up, he ran away from us."</p> + +<p>Sir Joseph repeated "ran away from you," with an air of complete +mystification, and Miss Mallow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span>coid raised her brows more than ever, as +if to imply that she, at least, expected nothing else.</p> + +<p>"Yes," added Leonetta, "he left us and went in the direction of 'The +Fastness'."</p> + +<p>"I wonder where that jackass has gone for a doctor?" exclaimed the +baronet after a while. "Did you see the car go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," whispered Leonetta, "the car left long before we had brought +Stephen here. We wanted it to drop him first, but he insisted on +walking."</p> + +<p>Then in the distance the sound of a familiar motor-horn was heard, and +through the trees could be seen the glittering brass-work of a car. The +baronet's head chauffeur in smart mufti was driving,—he had been caught +just as he was setting out for an evening in Folkestone,—and the car +darted along the drive, and gracefully took all the corners in a manner +that gladdened the hearts of the anxious spectators on the terrace.</p> + +<p>A grating of wheels on the ground, a spasmodic lunge forward, and the +vehicle stopped dead at the foot of the steps.</p> + +<p>An elderly gentleman descended from the car.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness!" cried Mrs. Delarayne, "it's Dr. Thackeray!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It is now necessary to turn the clock back about three quarters of an +hour, in order to follow the movements of Lord Henry from the moment +when he left the terrace of Brineweald Park.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a sure instinct that made him lose no time in trying to discover +Cleopatra's whereabouts; for, from the very first, the coincidence of +her sudden indisposition, following upon his behaviour with Leonetta in +the wood that morning, had struck him as a little too strange to be +accepted without suspicion. She had looked so well the whole morning, +and had appeared to be enjoying the walk quite as much as any of the +others. Knowing, moreover, the passionate girl she was, he could only +fear the worst if she had been told anything; and, since any disaster +that might follow would be due to a miscalculation on his part, he felt +it incumbent upon him to do everything in his power to repair the +mistake he had made.</p> + +<p>In that brief moment in the woods with Leonetta, he had wished to +achieve but one object,—to show Denis plainly and finally that Leonetta +could not be his. He wished so unmistakably to register this fact upon +Denis's mind, that he felt it would simplify matters enormously if that +young man could, with his own eyes, see something which, while it would +abate his ardour, would also show him how easy and how devoid of dignity +had been the game he had been playing for the last fortnight at +Brineweald.</p> + +<p>The sudden return of Denis to help to find the bangle had been the +opportunity. Unfortunately, Lord Henry felt that he had not reckoned +sufficiently with two possibilities, each of which, in itself, was +serious enough: on the one hand, Denis's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> return to Brineweald long +before himself, and on the other, the confirmation that Vanessa and +Tribe might offer to Denis's report, if Denis chose to tell. First of +all, in the few seconds he had had to consider the matter, it had struck +him as extremely improbable that Denis would either have the time or the +inclination to tell Cleopatra direct, before he himself had had a chance +of speaking to her; and, secondly, he had doubted whether Vanessa and +Tribe could actually have seen him embracing Leonetta.</p> + +<p>In these circumstances he had taken the risk which he felt he was +entitled to take in war; but apparently,—at least so he feared,—he had +miscalculated. He had failed to take into account Denis's mad fury, and +the extremes to which this might possibly drive him.</p> + +<p>He had not once been mistaken in his estimate of the kind of human life +with which he was experimenting; for he had correctly anticipated the +probable effects that the knowledge of his action would have upon +Cleopatra. He had, however, certainly staked upon luck, and, this time, +it appeared to have turned against him.</p> + +<p>Thus he was tormented by the gravest qualms as he made his way to "The +Fastness," and when Wilmott informed him that Miss Cleopatra had not +been seen since she had gone with the rest of Mrs. Delarayne's party in +Sir Joseph's car, early that morning, his worst fears were confirmed.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind looking all over the house?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> he said. "It is just +possible she may have come in without your noticing."</p> + +<p>The girl obeyed and even invited him to join in the search. Their +efforts, however, revealed no trace of Cleopatra.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry was at his wits' end. He began to be filled by a secret +feeling of guilt, a feeling that he had gone too far. He had been +foolhardy; he had exceeded his duty. Nothing remained to fortify him, in +his present tragic dilemma, but the conviction that he had acted all +along as if the affair, far from being a matter simply for Cleopatra's +family, had been his personal business, his intimate concern.</p> + +<p>He thought of the beach. It did not strike him as probable that the girl +would have gone thither in her solitary despair. However, he wished to +allow for every possible chance. He therefore went to the grocer's at +Brineweald and telephoned to Stonechurch, to the establishment that +provided hot sea-baths on the front. Had they heard of any disaster +among the bathers on the beach during the last two hours? Had any +disaster been reported from the lonely portions of the shore? Would +someone please go out to enquire? In a few minutes he received a +reassuring reply, and he left the shop. In his present state of mind, +however, even if he had been told that she had attempted suicide in the +waves and been rescued, at least this intelligence would have provided +something definite to which to cling, and he would have felt almost +grateful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span></p> + +<p>He enquired of one or two cottagers whether they had seen the elder Miss +Delarayne at all that day; but again his efforts were entirely +fruitless.</p> + +<p>Her rescue might be a matter of minutes, perhaps of seconds, and yet it +seemed as if he could do nothing. Never had he gazed upon a peaceful +village street with feelings of such tumultuous woe. Helplessness and +impotence are intolerable at any time, but they are the cruellest +torture when a dear human life seems to be at stake.</p> + +<p>It occurred to him that she might have gone to Sandlewood, which was the +nearest station, and where the stationmaster would be sure to have seen +her. She might already have taken the train in the London direction, or +to Shorncliffe or Folkestone. In any case he was so deeply convinced +that her disappearance portended tragedy, that he began to wonder +whether he ought not at once to inform the police.</p> + +<p>Had he been less involved in the affair, himself, he would have done so +immediately; but his hopes of finding some trace of her at Sandlewood +station induced him to wait. If he failed again, he would inform the +authorities.</p> + +<p>Thus resolved, he returned as quickly as possible to Brineweald Park, in +order to take advantage of the shortest cut to Sandlewood, and it was +just as he was on the point of crossing the fringe of the wood, that he +saw about a hundred and fifty yards to his left, the whole of the +shooting party pick up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> the under-keepers, and proceed in the same +direction as himself.</p> + +<p>There was not a sound among the trees. The air was still. The ground was +moist with the recent rain, and as he strode silently along one of the +narrow footpaths, he could not help from time to time glancing +half-shamefully at the sublimely careless party in the distance, on whom +he feared, through his high-handed action of the morning, some grief or +disgrace was almost bound to descend before nightfall.</p> + +<p>He noticed that Leonetta, with her customary eagerness and high spirits, +kept a few paces ahead of the rest, and that she constantly looked about +in all directions, as if in search of something or somebody. He half +feared that she would catch sight of him, and he therefore repeatedly +stooped, or halted behind any opportune screen of brambles, until she +turned her head in another direction. These manœuvres unfortunately +materially delayed his progress; while, owing to the fact that he was +compelled to keep his eye constantly on the other party, he could not +pick his way as nicely as he would have liked.</p> + +<p>Then, all at once, just as he saw Stephen, who was apparently trying to +catch Leonetta up, dart ahead, there was a loud report, and the youth +fell forward as if killed.</p> + +<p>Horrified, Lord Henry halted like one suddenly frozen to the ground. He +saw Leonetta rush forward and lean over the fallen youth. He then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> +observed her rise again just as the others came up.</p> + +<p>Then another shot was fired, and this time, although apparently the +shooter had missed his aim, Lord Henry quickly seized the whole tragic +meaning of what had occurred.</p> + +<p>He was nothing if not a quick thinker. It was clear to him now, +particularly in view of all he knew, that whoever had fired that first +shot had meant to hit Leonetta. It was also abundantly clear that the +second shot was a second attempt because the first had failed, and +concluding from the sound that the assailant would be somewhere between +him and the shooting party, he swerved without any further hesitation, +sharply to the left, and ran as hard as he could in the direction of the +group that had now gathered round Stephen. He dodged the trees and +undergrowth as well as he could, and tried as he proceeded to scan all +the intervening ground.</p> + +<p>He knew Cleopatra was reported to be a good shot; he had little doubt, +therefore, as to who the assailant was; but as he tore through the +undergrowth he was too much appalled by the thought of the tragic +development he had just witnessed, to think with anything but +consternation on behalf of the creature who, during the past week, had +become so dear to him.</p> + +<p>He was not a bow-shot from the shooting party, however, when all of a +sudden, at a distance of a couple of yards from him, crouching behind a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> +tangle of bushes, her face deathly white, and her hands struggling to +adjust the fire-arm she held in such a position as to do herself some +mortal injury, he espied Cleopatra,—Cleopatra now a dangerous +murderess.</p> + +<p>He dashed madly towards her, stooped to snatch her weapon, a rook-rifle, +from her, and swinging it high in the air, flung it back among the +bushes and bracken he had just crossed.</p> + +<p>"Are you mad!" he cried.</p> + +<p>But there was no response. The girl had fallen back in a swoon, and a +twitching of her fingers showed that even now her half-conscious mind +was busy trying to find the trigger of the deadly rook-rifle.</p> + +<p>A rapid examination revealed the fact that she was quite uninjured, and +concluding that she could be safely left where she was for a few +minutes, he ran off again in the direction of the wounded or murdered +man.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>As to what happened after that, the reader has already been informed.</p> + +<p>Lord Henry, feeling too deeply relieved by the sight of Stephen's slight +wound, to be able altogether to conceal his triumphant joy, declared +that the whole thing had been an accident caused by his unpardonable +ignorance of a rook-rifle; and fortunately, owing to the excitement +occasioned by Stephen's wound and the dressing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> of it, the other members +of the party were not too critical in their acceptance of his story.</p> + +<p>He dressed the wound with frantic speed, glancing constantly into the +woods to his left as he did so; muttered a few comforting words and +prayers for forgiveness to the boy on whose friendship he thought he +could count, and after having been assured that one of the keepers had +gone to the garage to order a car to be sent for the doctor, to the +complete astonishment of all present, he apologised and ran back into +the woods again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + + +<p>Lord Henry could have flown amid the foliage of the trees, he could have +leaped from branch to branch,—aye, he could have pranced from the tip +of each leaf of bracken on his way,—so elated did he feel that now, at +least, the worst was over, the worst was known, and what remained to be +done was within the compass of his own powers, and free from any +treacherous element of luck or accident.</p> + +<p>But his joy at the comparatively harmless outcome of Cleopatra's action +was nothing compared to his delight at that action itself, and even the +knowledge that he had read her character aright did not gratify him as +completely as the positive realisation that such characters as hers +still existed. It was chiefly this fact that dazzled him, and almost +choked him with a sensation of all too abundant ecstasy.</p> + +<p>"One touch of Nature!" Yes, indeed; and in England of the twentieth +century it was terrifying in its intensity. Those tame people who talked +glibly of "Nature" and of "a return to Nature," as if this were +something they could contemplate with blissful equanimity, imagined +belike that Nature was all humming bees, smiling meadows,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> nodding +blooms and sporting butterflies, the Nature of the most successful +Victorian poets. It was their back-parlour misinterpretation and +belittlement of Nature that made these modern Philistines worship her. +Even the most sanguine could hardly suspect them of having the courage, +the good blood and the taste, to worship Nature as she really +was,—Nature with all her intoxicating joys, staggering immorality and +tragic passions.</p> + +<p>Thus did Lord Henry meditate as he picked his way eagerly back to the +spot where Cleopatra lay, and for the first moment that day he began to +feel proud of his work at Brineweald.</p> + +<p>When he reached the girl again she was just recovering consciousness, +and, as her frightened eyes began to take in the scene about her, and +recognised him, he noticed that she shuddered.</p> + +<p>He knelt down and took her hand, but she shrank from him with a look of +such concentrated terror that he allowed her fingers to slip slowly +away.</p> + +<p>"My poor dear girl!" he murmured, wiping the beads of perspiration from +her brow. "My poor brave Cleo!"</p> + +<p>Her teeth chattered a little, and again the frightened look entered her +tired eyes, and she appeared to swoon once more.</p> + +<p>He threw off his rain-coat and laid it on her, supported her head on his +knee, and waited thus for some time.</p> + +<p>After a little while, however, it occurred to him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> that someone might +come across them if they remained so close to the house, and picking up +his charge, he penetrated further into the wood in the direction of the +morning's walk.</p> + +<p>The movement seemed to restore Cleopatra a little, and laying her down +on a gentle slope, he succeeded in making her sip a little brandy from +his flask.</p> + +<p>"You are breathing too quickly," he said. "You have just had a most +terrific shaking and your head is agitated. Try breathing more slowly +and deeply, as if nothing had happened; and soon your body will be +persuaded that nothing has happened."</p> + +<p>He spoke sternly, but with just that modicum of tenderness which made +his words at once a command and an entreaty.</p> + +<p>"Try it," he said again. "Breathe as if nothing had happened." He held +her hand, and gazed sympathetically into her face. "As a matter of +fact," he added, "so little has happened that it's not worth while being +agitated about it."</p> + +<p>She looked about as if in search of someone.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," he said, "no one can find us here. We are a long way +from where I first came across you."</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes, and seemed to be trying to do as he directed, for +her nostrils dilated as if in an effort to breathe deeply. He wished she +would speak. He dreaded that her mind might be unhinged.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When you are well enough to walk," he said, "we shall go to Sandlewood. +We'll have some tea or dinner there, and then you can get back to 'The +Fastness' after dark and go straight to bed. That will be excellent, and +nobody will be any the wiser."</p> + +<p>Patiently he waited while her breathing became by degrees more normal, +and faint traces of returning colour began to fleck her cheeks. He still +held her hand, and now and again he would press it gently as an earnest +of his sympathy. It seemed a long and anxious wait, and as his will and +desire for her return to strength grew more intense, he hoped that she +was profiting from his silent co-operation with her struggle for +recovery.</p> + +<p>Suddenly her eyes opened, and she looked anxiously round.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," he repeated, "you are not where you were when I first +found you. We have moved since then."</p> + +<p>"Where are the others?" she gasped, the terrified look returning to her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"They went back to the house over an hour ago," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Is he dead? Did I kill him?" she demanded defiantly.</p> + +<p>"Dead? No! He's not even badly wounded," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Where was he wounded?"</p> + +<p>"In the shoulder,—a slight flesh wound."</p> + +<p>Her face became slightly flushed, and he rose and faced her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't move unless you want to," he muttered. "But I should prefer to go +a little further away. I think it would be a good thing."</p> + +<p>"Move away?—is any one after us?" she cried frantically.</p> + +<p>"No, no. No one is after us. But I think you would be better alone with +me for a while anyway, and if we can walk a little further on, we shall +be off everybody's track."</p> + +<p>She made an effort to rise. He assisted her, and leaning heavily on his +arm she walked with him slowly towards Sandlewood. It was after six. +Neither spoke until the village was in sight, and then he asked if she +knew of any place in it where they could dine. "Not that it really +matters," he added, "because we don't want anything very substantial."</p> + +<p>She said that she supposed the inn would be the best place.</p> + +<p>To the inn they therefore went, and while the innkeeper's wife prepared +tea for them and boiled a few eggs, they walked over to the village +church.</p> + +<p>"Stephen has a flesh wound, no more, in the shoulder. Nobody else is +hurt," he said as they sauntered along. "I have dressed the wound, and a +doctor has been fetched. He was actually able to walk to the house. I +told them it was an accident, that I was not skilled in the use of +rook-rifles. Of course they believed me. Why shouldn't they? I want you +to promise not to show me up. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> all my fault, and I may surely be +allowed to come out of it with only an accident against my name?"</p> + +<p>"I don't care who knows. I don't care what happens!" Cleopatra exclaimed +hoarsely. "You needn't imagine I want you to shield me. I did it on +purpose, and they must know I did it on purpose."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry frowned. "Yes, quite so," he continued. "You have suffered so +much of late that you disbelieve in anything but unhappiness. You feel +it must be interminable. It was all my fault. You fancy that you are +alone, with a bitter hostile world arrayed against you. And since the +world is your enemy, what do you care what the enemy thinks of you? Very +natural too! That is what you feel. If only, if only, Leonetta had not +been so slow in walking home this morning! It was hard luck on me that +you should have been driven to this, because I was aiming at something +so very different. However, it seems even harder luck that you should +imagine that you were driven to it by me. But fancy! only a flesh wound +in the shoulder, and it's all over! God! how thankful I am. And they +must believe it was my accident. For did I not come to do you good, and +had I not succeeded?"</p> + +<p>"Better have left me alone," exclaimed the girl with a bitter smile. "I +wish I could go away. I want to leave this hateful place!"</p> + +<p>"Wherever you go, whatever you do, understand," said Lord Henry, "I am +going to stick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> close to you. So don't imagine you can drive me away."</p> + +<p>She stopped a moment. They had reached the churchyard, and she extended +an arm to the nearest tree to steady herself.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you leave me?" she demanded. "Can't you see that I have been +tormented enough? I hate everything and everybody! I want to forget; I +want to be alone."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry was silent and led the way back to the inn.</p> + +<p>"You are doing what hundreds have done before you," he observed after a +while, "and always with disastrous results. You are condemning a man +unheard. Until this morning I was your friend, your most useful ally +here. You knew it, you felt it. I did everything in my power to bring +about a change in the balance of advantages, which was all in your +favour. You saw the proof of this. You drew strength from the very +change I created. You know you did; you cannot deny it. I worked with +zeal and with effect. God! if I worked with the same zeal for all my +patients I should be dead in a fortnight."</p> + +<p>"Well?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Then you were told something by third parties,—something that seemed +to destroy in an instant all the careful work of my three days here. You +believed that there was only one interpretation of this thing, and that +was that my purpose all along had been so hazy and my nature so +capricious and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> irresponsible that I had suddenly resolved to reverse +the whole of the elaborate machinery which I had set in motion to +re-establish your health and spirits;—and what for?—in order, if you +please, to win the flattering smile of a mere child! Do you imagine that +even my love for your wonderful mother would ever have allowed me to +right-about-wheel all of a sudden in that ridiculous fashion? Come, +Cleopatra, be reasonable."</p> + +<p>She averted her gaze, and her eyes began to well with tears.</p> + +<p>"No, you have known the thing to happen before, and therefore you were +the more readily convinced that it had happened again. You had no faith +because your faith had been cruelly broken. But, believe me, although I +did this action this morning chiefly on your account and Leonetta's, and +partly also on account of a great friend of mine whom you do not yet +know, I swear I should never have undertaken it if I had dreamt for an +instant that it was going to cost you as much as a single tear."</p> + +<p>The girl put her handkerchief to her eyes. "I'm afraid I don't +understand," she said. "It all seems so mysterious. I only know that, +one after another, you all seem to go the same way."</p> + +<p>Lord Henry sighed. "Come," he said, offering her his arm again; "let me +make myself clear to you."</p> + +<p>But she was too convulsed with sobs to move. The situation was certainly +difficult.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span></p> + +<p>He waited, and looked for a while away from her.</p> + +<p>"Besides," she cried at last, "you don't really know what I wanted to +do, otherwise—otherwise—Oh! it's too dreadful!"</p> + +<p>He swung round. "I know everything," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>"You can't really want to keep me beside you then."</p> + +<p>He smiled sadly. "And why not, in all conscience!"</p> + +<p>She wiped her eyes quickly and frowned darkly at him.</p> + +<p>"Lord Henry, are you fooling me?" she ejaculated. "Don't you know that a +moment ago I was intent only on one thing, and that was——"</p> + +<p>She choked and could go no further.</p> + +<p>He walked up to her and laid a hand on her arm. "I tell you I know +everything," he repeated.</p> + +<p>"You pretend that you know," she sneered.</p> + +<p>He smiled and bowed his head. "If you mean," he suggested, "that two +hours ago you were firing from that ambush with the definite intention +of doing Leonetta some mortal injury, I need hardly say——"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said fiercely, "I do mean that."</p> + +<p>"Of course I knew that," he observed. "Don't imagine I had any doubt +about that. When I first came up to you I was convinced of it. What else +could you have been doing?"</p> + +<p>She scrutinised him intently. "Well, then?" she stammered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If only you will be good enough to walk back to the inn with me," he +said, again offering her his arm, "I'll explain everything to you."</p> + +<p>"All right, walk on!" she said, declining his proffered assistance.</p> + +<p>And then, as they walked, he began to unfold to her his reasons for his +behaviour with Leonetta in the woods that morning. He explained how he +had reckoned that he would be back in time to tell her first, and that +had it not been for the fury of Denis's indignation, he would certainly +have succeeded.</p> + +<p>They reached the inn and repaired to the bar parlour, and over the +frugal meal he continued his explanation. She listened intently, raised +an objection from time to time, which he deftly parried, and thus +gradually the whole story was made plain to her. She revived visibly +under the effects of the refreshment, and the precise and convincing +manner of his narrative; and when at last the complete chain of +consequence had been revealed to her, he left her very much recovered +while he went in search of some vehicle to convey them back to "The +Fastness."</p> + +<p>In about twenty minutes he returned with a broken-down old brougham—the +only vehicle the village possessed,—and in a moment they were rattling +away slowly in the direction of Brineweald.</p> + +<p>"Then what made you look for me with such anxiety?" she enquired, once +they were well on their way. "Why did you guess so positively that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> +something tragic would happen? Why didn't you simply assume that my +fainting fits had returned?"</p> + +<p>He caught her hand in his.</p> + +<p>"My dear Cleo," he replied, "perhaps I am disgustingly arrogant, perhaps +I am quite unfit for decent society, but it occurred to me that your +fainting fits had been, not the outcome of thwarted passion, but the +result of mortified vanity. You never loved Denis. I felt somehow that +in this instance, not your vanity alone, but your deepest passions were +involved, and that when you would act from thwarted passion, either +against yourself, against me, or against Leonetta, you would proceed to +violence. Was I wrong? Was I hopelessly vain and foolish to imagine that +in this instance, because I was concerned and not Denis, therefore +something more tragic was to be expected?"</p> + +<p>She looked away and a smile began to dawn on her tortured features.</p> + +<p>"What about Baby?" she demanded after a while. "Did you consider her +feelings?"</p> + +<p>"Did I consider her feelings? How can you ask me that, seeing that I was +leaving no stone unturned to save her from the toils of an +arch-flappist?"</p> + +<p>She almost laughed.</p> + +<p>"But didn't you go unnecessarily far with the poor kid?"</p> + +<p>"Only as far as I was obliged to go to effect my purpose. But do you +suppose I am only the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span> second man with whom she has flirted heavily? Do +you suppose I am even the sixth? I took care that she should realise +that it was only a rag. She is deep and she is passionate. She knows +what a good rag is. And she will behave very differently, I can assure +you, when she meets the man with whom she feels she cannot play without +burning her pretty fingers. She won't accept his first overtures so +readily, believe me. She will be too terrified, as all decent women are +when they are truly and deeply moved. She won't even yield so very +quickly to his repeated overtures. She will realise that the affair is +too deep, too committing, too final for that."</p> + +<p>"But didn't you kiss her?" Cleopatra enquired.</p> + +<p>"Of course I did," replied Lord Henry, chuckling quite heartily now. +"But is not a man entitled to kiss his future sister-in-law?"</p> + +<p>Two tears rolled slowly down her face, and she fumbled hurriedly for her +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, my beloved Cleo," he exclaimed, taking her into his arms, +"allow me to say that. Allow me to regard that kiss in that light. It +makes it so perfectly innocent. Didn't you feel that that is what I was +driving at? Oh, how easily I could have prevented all this if only +Leonetta hadn't dragged so on the way home!"</p> + +<p>And then, as they approached the outskirts of Brineweald, they quickly +decided on their plan of action. It was settled that only Mrs. +Delarayne, Leonetta, and Stephen should ever know the truth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> about the +accident, and that, even so, Leonetta should not be told until she was +sensible enough to see how inevitable and how "natural" it was. +Meanwhile, everyone was to believe that Lord Henry had made a fool of +himself,—a fact which, as both he and Cleopatra knew, would afford +infinite satisfaction to Miss Mallowcoid, Denis, and the baronet.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two months later, at about half-past eleven on a drizzly October +morning, there was a small and fashionable-looking crowd assembled near +the edge of one of the quays at the East India docks, and as the huge +Oriental liner moved slowly out into the Thames, five people on its +upper deck waved frantically towards this group. They were Cleopatra, +Lord Henry, the Tribes, and young Stephen Fearwell.</p> + +<p>Again and again Lord Henry waved his hat, and again and again, in the +interval of putting it to her eyes, Mrs. Delarayne waved her tiny lace +handkerchief back at him.</p> + +<p>He noticed that the brave woman was surviving wonderfully the strain of +losing for a while the beloved son that she had at last found; but as he +turned to call Cleopatra's attention to this, he found that he was +obliged to suppress the intended remark for fear of making an ass of +himself.</p> + +<p>The gigantic steamer grew smaller and smaller, the group on the quay +still waved and waved, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> then, at last, nothing more could be seen of +the travellers.</p> + +<p>"Is it a trying journey to China?" Leonetta asked of Aubrey St. Maur, +jerking her arm which was enlocked in his, as they turned away from the +sight of the oily harbour water.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said St. Maur, glancing ominously at Mrs. Delarayne, who was +staggering along between Sir Joseph and Agatha Fearwell's father. "Poor +Peachy seems very much upset, doesn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you see," Leonetta replied, "Henry always was her star turn."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span></p> +<h2><i>VISITORS BY NIGHT</i><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>At that deep hour 'twixt midnight and the dawn,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When silence and the darkness strive in vain</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For mastery, and Morpheus hath withdrawn</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>His friendly ward, not to return again;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Lo! Fancy's two-winged doorway wide doth yawn</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And uninvited guests arrive amain.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A fateful suite they hover into sight—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>They are the soul's dread visitors by night.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>First come brave Resolutions unfulfilled;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With each his spouse, Ambition unattained.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>They have the furtive look of conscience skilled</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In palliating failures unexplained.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Their lips are meek with pride that hath been killed</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And confidence that hath in sickness waned.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Oh, steel thy heart, thou hapless, sleepless wight,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Against these cheerless visitors by night.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Then come thy throng of petty sins and great,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Their sordid secrets branded on their brow.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Still apprehensive of their darksome fate</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And craving safe concealment as they bow.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>What faithfulness they have to come so late</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When thou hadst half-forgotten them by now.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Oh, for a virtue great enough to affright</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This ugly brood of visitors by night.</i><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>But these are not the worst; there cometh last</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>A green-clad lady, viperish and ill.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Her bitter lips she biteth and right fast</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>She grappleth with what spirit thou hast still.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Her poisoned words transfix thee till aghast</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Thou marvellest such aching doth not kill.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Her name is Jealousy, thou wretched wight;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The cruellest of visitors by night.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Then Fancy's two-winged doorway slow doth close.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The birds begin to twitter and to sing.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>All nature waketh and on pointed toes</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Young truant Morpheus stealeth gently in.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Oh, happiness of reinstalled repose,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And balsam for thy cold and sweated skin!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>'Twas worse than all the nightmares, blessed wight;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This vigil with these visitors by night.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> First published in <i>The New Age</i>, October 23, 1919.</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOO OLD FOR DOLLS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 28378-h.txt or 28378-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/3/7/28378">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/3/7/28378</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 are 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/28378-h/images/image_01.jpg b/28378-h/images/image_01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..844199b --- /dev/null +++ b/28378-h/images/image_01.jpg diff --git a/28378-h/images/image_02.jpg b/28378-h/images/image_02.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a82b97c --- /dev/null +++ b/28378-h/images/image_02.jpg diff --git a/28378-h/images/image_03.jpg b/28378-h/images/image_03.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..02a47cc --- /dev/null +++ b/28378-h/images/image_03.jpg |
