1 files changed, 15909 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/4304.txt b/4304.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b6ef49f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/4304.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,15909 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Friend the Charlatan, by George Gissing
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Our Friend the Charlatan
+
+Author: George Gissing
+
+Posting Date: July 12, 2009 [EBook #4304]
+Release Date: July, 2003
+First Posted: January 3, 2002
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR FRIEND THE CHARLATAN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Aldarondo.  HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Our Friend the Charlatan
+
+
+by
+
+George Gissing
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+As he waited for his breakfast, never served to time, Mr. Lashmar
+drummed upon the window-pane, and seemed to watch a blackbird lunching
+with much gusto about the moist lawn of Alverholme Vicarage. But his
+gaze was absent and worried. The countenance of the reverend gentleman
+rarely wore any other expression, for he took to heart all human
+miseries and follies, and lived in a ceaseless mild indignation against
+the tenor of the age. Inwardly, Mr. Lashmar was at this moment rather
+pleased, having come upon an article in his weekly paper which reviewed
+in a very depressing strain the present aspect of English life. He felt
+that he might have, and ought to have, written the article himself a
+loss of opportunity which gave new matter for discontent.
+
+The Rev. Philip was in his sixty-seventh year; a thin, dry,
+round-shouldered man, with bald occiput, straggling yellowish beard,
+and a face which recalled that of Darwin. The resemblance pleased him.
+Privately he accepted the theory of organic evolution, reconciling it
+with a very broad Anglicanism; in his public utterances he touched upon
+the Darwinian doctrine with a weary disdain. This contradiction
+involved no insincerity; Mr. Lashmar merely held in contempt the common
+understanding, and declined to expose an esoteric truth to vulgar
+misinterpretation. Yet he often worried about it--as he worried over
+everything.
+
+Nearer causes of disquiet were not lacking to him. For several years
+the income of his living had steadily decreased; his glebe, upon which
+he chiefly depended, fell more and more under the influence of
+agricultural depression, and at present he found himself, if not
+seriously embarrassed, likely to be so in a very short time. He was not
+a good economist; he despised everything in the nature of parsimony;
+his ideal of the clerical life demanded a liberal expenditure of money
+no less than unsparing personal toil. He had generously exhausted the
+greater part of a small private fortune; from that source there
+remained to him only about a hundred pounds a year. His charities must
+needs be restricted; his parish outlay must be pinched; domestic life
+must proceed on a narrower basis. And all this was to Mr. Lashmar
+supremely distasteful.
+
+Not less so to Mr. Lashmar's wife, a lady ten years his junior, endowed
+with abundant energies in every direction save that of household order
+and thrift. Whilst the vicar stood waiting for breakfast, tapping
+drearily on the window-pane, Mrs. Lashmar entered the room, and her
+voice sounded the deep, resonant note which announced a familiar
+morning mood.
+
+"You don't mean to say that breakfast isn't ready! Surely, my dear, you
+could ring the bell?"
+
+"I have done so," replied the vicar, in a tone of melancholy
+abstraction.
+
+Mrs. Lashmar rang with emphasis, and for the next five minutes her
+contralto swelled through the vicarage, rendering inaudible the replies
+she kept demanding from a half rebellious, half intimidated servant.
+She was not personally a coarse woman, and her manners did not grossly
+offend against the convention of good-breeding; but her nature was
+self-assertive. She could not brook a semblance of disregard for her
+authority, yet, like women in general, had no idea of how to rule. The
+small, round face had once been pretty; now, with its prominent eyes,
+in-drawn lips, and obscured chin, it inspired no sympathetic emotion,
+rather an uneasiness and an inclination for retreat. In good humour or
+in ill, Mrs. Lashmar was aggressive. Her smile conveyed an amiable
+defiance; her look of grave interest alarmed and subdued.
+
+"I have a line from Dyce," remarked the vicar, as at length he applied
+himself to his lukewarm egg and very hard toast. "He thinks of running
+down."
+
+"When?"
+
+"He doesn't say."
+
+"Then why did he write? I've no patience with those vague projects. Why
+did he write until he had decided on the day?"
+
+"Really, I don't know," answered Mr. Lashmar, feebly. His wife, in this
+mood, had a dazing effect upon him.
+
+"Let me see the letter."
+
+Mrs. Lashmar perused the half-dozen lines in her son's handwriting.
+
+"Why, he _does_ say!" she exclaimed in her deepest and most disdainful
+chord. "He says 'before long.'"
+
+"True. But I hardly think that conveys--"
+
+"Oh, please don't begin a sophistical argument He says when he is
+coming, and that's all I want to know here's a letter, I see, from that
+silly Mrs. Barker--her husband has quite given up drink, and earns good
+wages, sad the eldest boy has a place--pooh!"
+
+"All very good news, it seems to me," remarked the vicar, slightly
+raising his eyebrows.
+
+But one of Mrs. Lashmar's little peculiarities was that, though she
+would exert herself to any extent for people whose helpless
+circumstances utterly subjected them to her authority, she lost all
+interest in them as soon as their troubles were surmounted, and even
+viewed with resentment that result of her own efforts. Worse still,
+from her point of view, if the effort had largely been that of the
+sufferers themselves--as in this case. Mrs. Barker, a washerwoman who
+had reformed her sottish husband, was henceforth a mere offence in the
+eyes of the vicar's wife.
+
+"As silly a letter as ever I read!" she exclaimed, throwing aside the
+poor little sheet of cheap note-paper with its illiterate gratitude.
+"Oh, here's something from Lady Susan--pooh! Another baby. What do I
+care about her babies! Not one word about Dyce--not one word. Now,
+really!"
+
+"I don't remember what you expected," remarked the vicar, mildly.
+
+Mrs. Lashmar paid no heed to him. With a resentful countenance, she had
+pushed the letters aside, and was beginning her meal. Amid all the
+so-called duties which she imposed upon herself--for, in her own way,
+she bore the burden of the world no less than did the Rev. Philip--Mrs.
+Lashmar never lost sight of one great preoccupation, the interests of
+her son. He, Dyce Lashmar, only child of the house, now twenty-seven
+years old, lived in London, and partly supported himself as a private
+tutor. The obscurity of this existence, so painful a contrast to the
+hopes his parents had nourished, so disappointing an outcome of all the
+thought that had been given to Dyce's education, and of the not
+inconsiderable sums spent upon it, fretted Mrs. Lashmar to the soul; at
+times she turned in anger against the young man himself, accusing him
+of ungrateful supineness, but more often eased her injured feelings by
+accusation of all such persons as, by any possibility, might have aided
+Dyce to a career. One of these was Lady Susan Harrop, a very remote
+relative of hers. Twice or thrice a year, for half-a-dozen years at
+least, Mrs. Lashmar had urged upon Lady Susan the claims of her son to
+social countenance and more practical forms of advancement; hitherto
+with no result--save, indeed, that Dyce dined once every season at the
+Harrops' table. The subject was painful to Mr. Lashmar also, but it
+affected him in a different way, and he had long ceased to speak of it.
+
+"That selfish, frivolous woman!" sounded presently from behind the
+coffee-service, not now in accents of wrath, but as the deliberate
+utterance of cold judgment. "Never in all her life has she thought of
+anyone but herself. What right has such a being to bring children into
+the world? What can be expected of them but meanness and hypocrisy?"
+
+Mr. Lashmar smiled. He had just broken an imperfect tooth upon a piece
+of toast, and, as usual when irritated, his temper became ironic.
+
+"Sweet are the uses of disappointment," he observed. "How it clears
+one's vision!"
+
+"Do you suppose I ever had any better opinion of Lady Susan?" exclaimed
+his wife.
+
+It was a principle of Mr. Lashmar's never to argue with a woman. Sadly
+smiling, he rose from the table.
+
+"Here's an article you ought to read," he said, holding out the weekly
+paper. "It's fall of truth, well expressed. It may even have some
+bearing on this question."
+
+The vicar went about his long day's work, and took with him many uneasy
+reflections. He bad not thought of it before breakfast, but now it
+struck him that much in that pungent article on the men of to-day might
+perchance apply to the character and conduct of his own son. "A habit
+of facile enthusiasm, not perhaps altogether insincere, but totally
+without moral value . . . convictions assumed at will, as a matter of
+fashion, or else of singularity . . . the lack of stable purpose, save
+only in matters of gross self-interest . . . an increasing tendency to
+verbose expression . . . an all but utter lack of what old-fashioned
+people still call principle. . . ." these phrases recurred to his
+memory, with disagreeable significance. Was that in truth a picture of
+his son, of the boy whom he had loved and watched over and so zealously
+hoped for? Possibly he wronged Dyce, for the young man's mind and heart
+had long ceased to be clearly legible to him. "Worst, perhaps, of all
+these frequent traits is the affectation of--to use a silly
+word--altruism. The most radically selfish of men seem capable of
+persuading themselves into the belief that their prime motive is to
+'live for others.' Of truly persuading themselves--that is the strange
+thing. This, it seems to us, is morally far worse than the unconscious
+hypocrisy which here and there exists in professors of the old
+religion; there is something more nauseous about self-deceiving
+'altruism' than in the attitude of a man who, thoroughly worldly in
+fact, believes himself a hopeful candidate for personal salvation."
+Certain recent letters of Dyce appeared in a new light when seen from
+this point of view. It was too disagreeable a subject; the vicar strove
+to dismiss it from his mind.
+
+In the afternoon, he had to visit a dying man, an intelligent
+shopkeeper, who, while accepting the visit as a proof of kindness,
+altogether refused spiritual comfort, and would speak of nothing but
+the future of his children. Straightway Mr. Lashmar became the
+practical consoler, lavish of kindly forethought. Only when he came
+forth did he ask himself whether he could possibly fulfil half of what
+he had undertaken.
+
+"It is easier," he reflected, "to make promises for the world to come.
+Is it not also better? After all, can I not do it with a clearer
+conscience?"
+
+He walked slowly, worrying about this and fifty other things, feeling a
+very Atlas under the globe's oppression. Rig way took him across a
+field in which there was a newly bourgeoned copse; he remembered that,
+last spring, he had found white violets about the roots of the trees. A
+desire for their beauty and odour possessed him; he turned across the
+grass. Presently a perfume guided him to a certain mossy corner where
+pale sweet florets nestled amid their leaves. He bent over them, and
+stretched his hand to pluck, but in the same moment checked himself;
+why should he act the destroyer in this spot of perfect quietness and
+beauty?
+
+"Dyce would not care much about them," was another thought that came
+into his mind.
+
+He rose from his stooping posture with ache of muscles and creaking of
+joints. Alas for the days when he ran and leapt and knew not pain!
+Walking slowly away, he worried himself about the brevity of life.
+
+By a stile he passed into the highroad, at the lower end of the long
+village of Alverholme. He had an appointment with his curate at the
+church school, and, not to be unpunctual, he quickened his pace in that
+direction. At a little distance behind him was a young lady whom he had
+not noticed; she, recognizing the vicar, pursued with light, quick
+step, and soon overtook him.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Lashmar!"
+
+"Why--Miss Bride!" exclaimed the vicar. "What a long time since we saw
+you! Have you just come?"
+
+"I'm on a little holiday. How are you? And how is Mrs. Lashmar?"
+
+Miss Bride had a soberly decisive way of speaking, and an aspect which
+corresponded therewith; her figure was rather short, well-balanced, apt
+for brisk movement; she held her head very straight, and regarded the
+world with a pair of dark eyes suggestive of anything but a sentimental
+nature. Her grey dress, black jacket, and felt hat trimmed with a
+little brown ribbon declared the practical woman, who thinks about her
+costume only just as much as is needful; her dark-brown hair was coiled
+in a plait just above the nape, as if neatly and definitely put out of
+the way. She looked neither more nor less than her age, which was eight
+and twenty. At first sight her features struck one as hard and
+unsympathetic, though tolerably regular; watching her as she talked or
+listened, one became aware of a mobility which gave large
+expressiveness, especially in the region of the eyebrows, which seemed
+to move with her every thought. Her lips were long, and ordinarily
+compressed in the line of conscious self-control. She had a very
+shapely neck, the skin white and delicate; her facial complexion was
+admirably pure and of warmish tint.
+
+"And where are you living, Miss Bride?" asked Mr. Lashmar, regarding
+her with curiosity.
+
+"At Hollingford; that is to say, near it. I am secretary to Lady
+Ogram--I don't know whether you ever heard of her?"
+
+"Ogram? I know the name. I am very glad indeed to hear that you have
+such a pleasant position. And your father? It is very long since I
+heard from him."
+
+"He has a curacy at Liverpool, and seems to be all right. My mother
+died about two years ago."
+
+The matter-of-fact tone in which this information was imparted caused
+Mr. Lashmar to glance at the speaker's face. Though very little of an
+observer, he was comforted by an assurance that Miss Bride's features
+were less impassive than her words. Indeed, the cold abruptness with
+which she spoke was sufficient proof of feeling roughly subdued.
+
+Some six years had now elapsed since the girl's father, after acting
+for a short time as curate to Mr. Lashmar, accepted a living in another
+county. The technical term, in this case, was rich in satiric meaning;
+Mr. Bride's incumbency quickly reduced him to pauperism. At the end of
+the first twelvemonth in his rural benefice the unfortunate cleric made
+a calculation that he was legally responsible for rather more than
+twice the sum of money represented by his stipend and the offertories.
+The church needed a new roof; the parsonage was barely habitable for
+long lack of repairs; the church school lost its teacher through
+default of salary--and so on. With endless difficulty Mr. Bride escaped
+from his vicarage to freedom and semi-starvation, and deemed himself
+very lucky indeed when at length he regained levitical harbourage.
+
+These things had his daughter watched with her intent dark eyes;
+Constance Bride did not feel kindly disposed towards the Church of
+England as by law established. She had seen her mother sink under
+penury and humiliation and all unmerited hardship; she had seen her
+father changed from a vigorous, hopeful, kindly man to an embittered
+pessimist. As for herself, sound health and a good endowment of brains
+enabled her to make a way in the world. Luckily, she was a sole child:
+her father managed to give her a decent education till she was old
+enough to live by teaching. But teaching was not her vocation. Looking
+round for possibilities, Constance hit upon the idea of studying
+pharmaceutics and becoming a dispenser; wherein, with long, steady
+effort, she at length succeeded. This project had already been shaped
+whilst the Brides were at Alverholme; Mrs. Lashmar had since heard of
+Constance as employed in the dispensary of a midland hospital.
+
+"Hollingford?" remarked the vicar, as they walked on. "I think I
+remember that you have relatives there."
+
+"I was born there, and I have an old aunt still living in the town--she
+keeps a little baker's shop."
+
+Mr. Lashmar, though a philosopher, was not used to this bluntness of
+revelation; it gave him a slight shock, evinced in a troublous rolling
+of the eyes.
+
+"Ha! yes!--I trust you will dine with us this evening, Miss Bride?"
+
+"Thank you, I can't dine; I want to leave by an early evening train.
+But I should like to see Mrs. Lashmar, if she is at home."
+
+"She will be delighted. I must beg you to pardon me for leaving you--an
+appointment at the schools; but I will get home as soon as possible.
+Pray excuse me."
+
+"Why, of course, Mr. Lashmar. I haven't forgotten the way to the
+vicarage."
+
+She pursued it, and in a few minutes rang the bell. Mrs. Lashmar was in
+the dining-room, busy with a female parishioner whose self-will in the
+treatment of infants' maladies had given the vicar's wife a great deal
+of trouble.
+
+"It's as plain as blessed daylight, mum," the woman was exclaiming,
+"that this medicine don't agree with her."
+
+"Mrs. Dibbs," broke in the other severely, "you will allow me to be a
+better judge--_what_ is it?"
+
+The housemaid had opened the door to announce Miss Bride.
+
+"Miss Bride?" echoed the lady in astonishment. "Very well; show her
+into the drawing-room."
+
+The visitor waited for nearly a quarter of an hour. She had placed
+herself on one of the least comfortable chairs, and sat there in a very
+stiff attitude, holding her umbrella across her knees. After a rather
+nervous survey of the room, (it had changed very little in appearance
+since her last visit six years ago), she fell into uneasy
+thoughtfulness, now and then looking impatiently towards the door. When
+the hostess at length appeared, she rose with deliberation, her lips
+just relaxed in a half-smile.
+
+"So it is really you!" exclaimed Mrs. Lashmar, in a voice of forced
+welcome. "I thought you must have altogether forgotten us."
+
+"It's the first time I have returned to Alverholme," replied the other,
+in a contrasting tone of calmness.
+
+"And what are you doing? Where are you living? Tell me all about
+yourself. Are you still at the hospital? You did get a place at a
+hospital, I think? We were told so."
+
+Mrs. Lashmar's patronage was a little more patronizing than usual, her
+condescension one or two degrees more condescending. She had various
+reasons for regarding Constance Bride with disapproval, the least of
+them that sense of natural antipathy which was inevitable between two
+such women. In briefest sentences Miss Bride made known that she had
+given up dispensing two years ago, and was now acting as secretary to a
+baronet's widow.
+
+"A baronet's widow?" repeated the hostess, with some emphasis of candid
+surprise. "Row did you manage that? Who is she?"
+
+"An old friend of my family," was the balanced reply. "Lady Ogram, of
+Rivenoak, near Hollingford."
+
+"Oh! Indeed! I wasn't aware--"
+
+Mrs. Lashmar thought better of her inclination to be trenchantly rude,
+and smoothed off into commonplaces. Presently the vicar entered, and
+found his wife conversing with the visitor more amiably than he had
+expected.
+
+"You have seen Miss Bride already," said Mrs. Lashmar. "I am trying to
+persuade her to stay over-night with us. Is it really impossible?"
+
+Constance civilly but decidedly declined. Addressing herself to the
+vicar, she spoke with more ease and friendliness than hitherto;
+nevertheless, it was obvious that she counted the minutes dictated by
+decency for the prolongation of her stay. Once or twice her look
+wandered to a certain part of the wall where hung a framed
+photograph--a portrait of Dyce Lashmar at the age of one and twenty;
+she regarded it for an instant with cold fixity, as though it
+interested her not at all. Just as she was on the point of rising,
+there came a sound of wheels on the vicarage drive.
+
+"Who's that, I wonder?" said Mrs. Lashmar. "Why--surely it isn't--?"
+
+A voice from without had reached her ears; surprise and annoyance
+darkened her countenance.
+
+"It's certainly Dyce," said the vicar, who for his part, recognized the
+voice with pleasure.
+
+"Impossible! He said he was coming in a week's time."
+
+Mr. Lashmar would not have cared to correct this statement, and remark
+was rendered superfluous by the opening of the door and the appearance
+of Dyce himself.
+
+"Afraid I'm taking you rather at unawares," said the young man, in a
+suave Oxford voice. "Unexpectedly I found myself free--"
+
+His eyes fell upon Constance Bride, and for a moment he was mute; then
+he stepped towards her, and, with an air of peculiar frankness, of
+comrade-like understanding, extended his hand.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Connie! Delighted to find you here--Mother, glad
+to see you." Re touched Mrs. Lashmar's forehead with his lips. "Well,
+father? Uncommonly pleasant to be at the vicarage again!"
+
+Miss Bride had stood up, and was now advancing towards the hostess.
+
+"You _must_ go?" said Mrs. Lashmar, with her most agreeable smile.
+
+"What, going?" exclaimed Dyce. "Why? Are you staying in the village?"
+
+"No. I must catch a train."
+
+"What train?"
+
+"'The six forty-five."
+
+"Why, then you have plenty of time! Mother, bid Miss Connie be seated;
+I haven't had a moment's talk with her; it's absurd. Six forty-five?
+You needn't leave here for twenty minutes. What a lucky thing that I
+came in just now."
+
+For certain ticks of the clock it was a doubtful matter whether Miss
+Bride would depart or remain. Glancing involuntarily at Mrs. Lashmar,
+she saw the gloom of resentment and hostility hover upon that lady's
+countenance, and this proved decisive.
+
+"I'll have some tea, please," cried the young man, cheerfully, as
+Constance with some abruptness resumed her seat. "How is your father,
+Miss Connie? Well? That's right. And Mrs. Bride?"
+
+"My mother is dead," replied the girl, quite simply, looking away.
+
+A soft murmur of pain escaped Dyce's lips; he leaned forward, uttered
+gently a "Pray forgive me!" and was silent. The vicar interposed with a
+harmless remark about the flight of years.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+In the moments when Dyce Lashmar was neither aware of being observed
+nor consciously occupied with the pressing problems of his own
+existence, his face expressed a natural amiability, inclining to
+pensiveness. The features were in no way remarkable; they missed the
+vigour of his father's type without attaining the regularity which had
+given his mother a claim to good looks. Such a visage falls to the lot
+of numberless men born to keep themselves alive and to propagate their
+insignificance. But Dyce was not insignificant. As soon as his
+countenance lighted with animation, it revealed a character rich in
+various possibility, a vital force which, by its bright indefiniteness,
+made some appeal to the imagination. Often he had the air of a lyric
+enthusiast; often, that of a profound thinker; not seldom there came
+into his eyes a glint of stern energy which seemed a challenge to the
+world. Therewithal, nothing perceptibly histrionic; look or speak as he
+might, the young man exhaled an atmosphere of sincerity, and persuaded
+others because he seemed so thoroughly to have convinced himself.
+
+He did not give the impression of high breeding. His Oxford voice, his
+easy self-possession, satisfied the social standard, but left a defect
+to the finer sense. Dyce had not the self-oblivion of entire courtesy;
+it seemed probable that he would often err in tact; a certain
+awkwardness marred his personal bearing, which aimed at the modern
+ideal of flowing unconstraint.
+
+Sipping the cup of tea which his mother had handed to him, Dyce talked
+at large. Nothing, he declared, was equal to the delight of leaving
+town just at this moment of the year, when hedge and meadow were
+donning their brightest garments and the sky gleamed with its purest
+blue. He spoke in the tone of rapturous enjoyment, and yet one might
+have felt a doubt whether his sensibility was as keen as he professed
+or imagined; all the time, he appeared to be thinking of something
+else. Most of his remarks were addressed to Miss Bride, and with that
+manner of intimate friendliness which he alone of the family used
+towards their visitor. He inquired about the events of her life, and
+manifested a strong interest in the facts which Constance briefly
+repeated.
+
+"Let me walk with you as far as the station," he said, when the time
+came for her departure.
+
+"Please don't trouble," Constance replied, with a quick glance at Mrs.
+Lashmar's face, still resentful under the conventional smile.
+
+Dyce, without more words, took his hat and accompanied her; the vicar
+went with them to the garden gate, courteous but obviously embarrassed.
+
+"Pray remember me to your father, Miss Bride," he said. "I should much
+like to hear from him."
+
+"It's chilly this evening," remarked Dyce, as he and his companion
+walked briskly away. "Are you going far?"
+
+"To Hollingford."
+
+"But you'll be travelling for two or three hours. What about your
+dinner?"
+
+"Oh, I shall eat something when I get home."
+
+"Women are absurd about food," exclaimed Dyce, with laughing
+impatience. "Most of you systematically starve yourselves, and wonder
+that you get all sorts of ailments. Why wouldn't you stay at the
+vicarage to-night? I'm quite sure it would have made no difference if
+you had got back to Hollingford in the morning."
+
+"Perhaps not, but I don't care much for staying at other people's
+houses."
+
+Dyce examined his companion's face. She did not meet his look, and bore
+it with some uneasiness. In the minds of both was a memory which would
+have accounted for much more constraint between them than apparently
+existed. Six years ago, in the days of late summer, when Dyce Lashmar
+was spending his vacation at the vicarage, and Connie Bride was making
+ready to go out into the world, they had been wont to see a good deal
+of each other, and to exhaust the topics of the time in long
+conversations, tending ever to a closer intimacy of thought and
+sentiment. The companionship was not very favourably regarded by Mr.
+Lashmar, and to the vicar's wife was a source of angry apprehension.
+There came the evening when Dyce and Constance had to bid each other
+good-bye, with no near prospect of renewing their talks and rambles
+together. What might be in the girl's thought, she alone knew; the
+young man, effusive in vein of friendship, seemed never to glance
+beyond a safe borderline, his emotions satisfied with intellectual
+communion. At the moment of shaking hands, they stood in a field behind
+the vicarage; dusk was falling and the spot secluded.--They parted,
+Constance in a bewilderment which was to last many a day; for Dyce had
+kissed her, and without a word was gone.
+
+There followed no exchange of letters. From that hour to this the two
+had in no way communicated. Mr. Bride, somewhat offended by what he had
+seen and surmised of Mr. and Mrs. Lashmar's disposition, held no
+correspondence with the vicar of Alverholme; his wife had never been on
+friendly terms with Mrs. Lashmar. How Dyce thought of that singular
+incident it was impossible to infer from his demeanour; Constance might
+well have supposed that he had forgotten all about it.
+
+"Is your work interesting?" were his next words. "What does Lady Ogram
+go in for?"
+
+"Many things."
+
+"You prefer it to the other work?"
+
+"It isn't so hard, and it's much more profitable."
+
+"By the bye, who is Lady Ogram?" asked Dyce, with a smiling glance.
+
+"A remarkable old lady. Her husband died ten years ago; she has no
+children, and is very rich. I shouldn't think there's a worse-tempered
+person living, yet she has all sorts of good qualities. By birth, she
+belongs to the working class; by disposition she's a violent
+aristocrat. I often hate her; at other times, I like her very much."
+
+Dyce listened with increasing attention.
+
+"Has she any views?" he inquired.
+
+"Oh, plenty!" Constance answered, with a dry little laugh.
+
+"About social questions--that kind of thing?"
+
+"Especially."
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised if she called herself a socialist."
+
+"That's just what she does--when she thinks it will annoy people she
+dislikes."
+
+Dyce smiled meditatively.
+
+"I should like to know her. Yes, I should very much like to know her.
+Could you manage it for me?"
+
+Constance did not reply. She was comparing the Dyce Lashmar of to-day
+with him of the past, and trying to understand the change that had come
+about in his talk, his manner. It would have helped her had she known
+that, in the ripe experience of his seven and twentieth year, Dyce had
+arrived at certain conclusions with regard to women, and thereupon had
+based a method of practical behaviour towards them. Women, he held, had
+never been treated with elementary justice. To worship them was no less
+unfair than to hold them in contempt. The honest man, in our day,
+should regard a woman without the least bias of sexual prejudice;
+should view her simply as a fellow-being, who, according to
+circumstances, might or not be on his own plane. Away with all empty
+show and form, those relics of barbarism known as chivalry! He wished
+to discontinue even the habit of hat-doffing in female presence. Was
+not civility preserved between man and man without such idle form? Why
+not, then, between man and woman? Unable, as yet, to go the entire
+length of his principles in every-day life, he endeavoured, at all
+events, to cultivate in his intercourse with women a frankness of
+speech, a directness of bearing, beyond the usual. He shook hands as
+with one of his own sex, spine uncrooked; he greeted them with level
+voice, not as one who addresses a thing afraid of sound. To a girl or
+matron whom he liked, he said, in tone if not in phrase, "Let us be
+comrades." In his opinion this tended notably to the purifying of the
+social atmosphere. It was the introduction of simple honesty into
+relations commonly marked--and corrupted--by every form of
+disingenuousness. Moreover, it was the great first step to that
+reconstruction of society at large which every thinker saw to be
+imperative and imminent.
+
+But Constance Bride knew nothing of this, and in her ignorance could
+not but misinterpret the young man's demeanor. She felt it to be
+brusque; she imagined it to imply a purposed oblivion of things in the
+past. Taken together with Mrs. Lashmar's way of receiving her at the
+vicarage, it stirred in her heart and mind (already prone to
+bitterness) a resentment which, of all things, she shrank from
+betraying.
+
+"Is Lady Ogram approachable?" Dyce asked, when his companion had walked
+a few paces without speaking. "Does she care to make new acquaintances?"
+
+"It depends. She likes to know interesting people."
+
+"Well"--Dyce murmured a laugh--"perhaps she might think me interesting,
+in a way. Her subject is mine. I'm working at sociology; have been for
+a long time. I'm getting my ideas into shape, and I like to talk about
+them."
+
+"Do you write?" asked the girl, without raising her eyes to his.
+
+"No. People write too much; we're flooded with print. I've grown out of
+my old ambitions that way. The Greek philosophers taught by word of
+mouth, and it was better. I want to learn how to talk--to talk well--to
+communicate what I have to say in a few plain words. It saves time and
+money; I'm convinced, too, that it carries more weight. Everyone
+nowadays can write a book, and most people do; but how many can talk?
+The art is being utterly forgotten. Chatter and gabble and mumble--an
+abuse of language. What's your view?"
+
+"I think perhaps you are right."
+
+"Come, now, I'm glad to hear you say that. If I had time, I would tell
+you more; but here's the station, and there's the smoke of the train.
+We've cut it rather close. Across the line; you'll have to run--sharp!"
+
+They did so, reaching the platform as the train drew up. Dyce allowed
+his companion to open a carriage-door for herself. That was quite in
+accord with his principles, but perhaps he would for once have
+neglected them had he been sure by which class Miss Bride would travel.
+She entered the third.
+
+"You wouldn't care to introduce me to Lady Ogram?" he said, standing by
+the window, and looking straight into the girl's eyes.
+
+"I will if you wish," she answered, meeting his look with hard
+steadiness and a frown as of pain.
+
+"Many thanks! Rivenoak, Hollingford, the address? Suppose I call in a
+few days?"
+
+"If you like."
+
+The train moved. Dyce bared his head, and, as he turned away, thought
+how contemptible was the practice.
+
+Walking briskly against a cold wind, he busied his imagination about
+Lady Ogram. The picture he made to himself of this wealthy and original
+old lady was very fertile of suggestion; his sanguine temper bore him
+to heights of brilliant possibility. Dyce Lashmar had a genius for airy
+construction; much of his time was spent in deducing imaginary results
+from some half presented opportunity. As his fancy wrought, he walked
+faster and faster, and he reached the vicarage in a physical glow which
+corresponded to his scintillating state of mind.
+
+Of Constance Bride he thought hardly at all. She did not interest him;
+her proximity left him cold. She might be a useful instrument; apart
+from his "method," that was the light in which he regarded all the
+women he knew. Experience had taught him that he possessed a certain
+power over women of a certain kind; it seemed probable that Constance
+belonged to the class; but this was a fact which had no emotional
+bearing. With a moment's idle wonder he remembered the circumstances of
+their former parting. He was then a boy, and who shall account for a
+boy's momentary impulses? Constance was a practical sort of person, and
+in all likelihood thought no more of that foolish incident than he did.
+
+"Why are you so eccentric in your movements, Dyce?" said Mrs. Lashmar,
+irritably, when he entered the drawing-room again. "You write one day
+that you're coming in a week or two, and on the next here you are. How
+could you know that it was convenient to us to have you just now?"
+
+"The Woolstan boy has a cold," Dyce replied, "and I found myself free
+for a few days. I'm sorry to put you out."
+
+"Not at all. I say that it _might_ have done."
+
+Dyce's bearing to his mother was decently respectful, but in no way
+affectionate. The knowledge that she counted for little or nothing with
+him was an annoyance, rather than a distress, to Mrs. Lashmar. With
+tenderness she could dispense, but the loss of authority wounded her.
+
+Dinner was a rather silent meal. The vicar seemed to be worrying about
+something even more than usual. When they had risen from table, Mrs.
+Lashmar made the remark which was always forthcoming on these occasions.
+
+"So you are still doing nothing, Dyce?"
+
+"I assure you, I'm very busy," answered the young man, as one indulgent
+to an inferior understanding.
+
+"So you always say. When did you see Lady Susan?"
+
+"Oh, not for a long time."
+
+"What vexes me is, that you don't make the slightest use of your
+opportunities. It's really astonishing that, with your talents, you
+should be content to go on teaching children their A. B. C. You have no
+energy, Dyce, and no ambition. By this time you might have been in the
+diplomatic service, you might have been in Parliament. Are you going to
+waste your whole life?"
+
+"That depends on the view one takes of life," said Dyce, in a
+philosophical tone which he sometimes adopted--generally after dinner.
+"Why should one always be thinking about 'getting on?' It's the vice of
+the time. Why should I elbow and hustle in a vulgar crowd? A friend of
+mine, Lord Dymchurch--"
+
+"What! You have made friends with a lord?" cried Mrs. Lashmar, her face
+illumined.
+
+"Why not?--I was going to say that Dymchurch, though he's poor, and
+does nothing at all, is probably about the most distinguished man in
+the peerage. He is distinguished by nature, and that's enough for him.
+You'd like Dymchurch, father."
+
+The vicar looked up from a fit of black brooding, and said "Ah! no
+doubt." Mrs. Lashmar, learning the circumstances of Lord Dymchurch,
+took less pride in him, but went on to ask questions. Had his lordship
+no interest, which might serve a friend? Could he not present Dyce to
+more influential people.
+
+"I should be ashamed to hint that kind of thing to him," answered Dyce.
+"Don't be so impatient, mother. If I am to do anything--in your sense
+of the word the opportunity will come. If it doesn't, well, fate has
+ordered it so."
+
+"All I know is, Dyce, that you might be the coming man, and you're
+content to be nobody at all."
+
+Dyce laughed.
+
+"The coming man! Well, perhaps, I _am_; who knows? At all events, it's
+something to know that you believe in me. And it may be that you are
+not the only one."
+
+Later, Dyce and his father went into the study to smoke. The young man
+brought with him a large paperbacked volume which he had taken out of
+his travelling bag.
+
+"Here's a book I'm reading. A few days ago I happened to be at Williams
+& Norgates'. This caught my eyes, and a glance at a page or two
+interested me so much that I bought it at once. It would please you,
+father."
+
+"I've no time for reading nowadays," sighed the vicar. "What is it?"
+
+He took the volume, a philosophical work by a French writer, bearing
+recent date. Mr. Lashmar listlessly turned a few pages, whilst Dyce was
+filling and lighting his pipe.
+
+"It's uncommonly suggestive," said Dyce, between puffs. "The best
+social theory I know. He calls his system Bio-sociology; a theory of
+society founded on the facts of biology--thoroughly scientific and
+convincing. Smashing socialism in the common sense that is, social
+democracy; but establishing a true socialism in harmony with the
+aristocratic principle. I'm sure you'd enjoy it. I fancy it's just your
+view."
+
+"Yes--perhaps so--"
+
+"Here's the central idea. No true sociology could be established before
+the facts of biology were known, as the one results from the other. In
+both, the ruling principle is that of association, with the evolution
+of a directing power. An animal is an association of cells. Every
+association implies division of labour. Now, progress in organic
+development means the slow constitution of an organ--the brain--which
+shall direct the body. So in society--an association of individuals,
+with slow constitution of a directing organ, called the Government. The
+problem of civilisation is to establish government on scientific
+principles--to pick out the fit for rule--to distinguish between the
+Multitude and the Select, and at the same time to balance their
+working. It is nonsense to talk about Equality. Evolution is engaged in
+_cephalising_ the political aggregate--as it did the aggregate of cells
+in the animal organism. It makes for the differentiation of the Select
+and of the Crowd--that is to say, towards Inequality."
+
+"Very interesting," murmured the vicar, who listened with an effort
+whilst mechanically loading his pipe.
+
+"Isn't it? And the ideas are well marked out; first the
+bio-sociological theory,--then the psychology and ethics which result
+from it. The book has given me a stronger impulse than anything I've
+read for years. It carries conviction with it. It clears one's mind of
+all sorts of doubts and hesitations. I always kicked at the democratic
+idea; now I know that I was right."
+
+"Ah! Perhaps so. These questions are very difficult--By the bye, Dyce,
+I want to speak to you about a matter that has been rather troubling me
+of late. Let us get it over now, shall we?"
+
+Dyce's animated look faded under a shadow of uneasiness. He regarded
+the vicar steadily, with eyes which gathered apprehension.
+
+"It's very disagreeable," pursued Mr. Lashmar, after puffing a pipe
+unlit. "I'm afraid it'll be no less so to you than to me. I've
+postponed the necessity as long as I could. The fact is, Dyce, I'm
+getting pinched in my finances. Let me tell you just how matters stand."
+
+The son listened to an exposition of his father's difficulties; he had
+his feet crossed, his head bent, and the pipe hanging from his mouth.
+At the first silence, he removed his pipe and said quietly:
+
+"It's plain that my allowance must stop. Not another word about that,
+father. You ought to have spoken before; I've been a burden to you."
+
+"No, no, my dear boy! I haven't felt it till now. But, as you see,
+things begin to look awkward. Do you think you can manage?"
+
+"Of course I can. Don't trouble about me for a moment. I have my
+hundred and fifty a year from Mrs. Woolstan, and that's quite enough
+for a bachelor. I shall pick up something else. In any case, I've no
+right to sponge on you; I've done it too long. If I had had the
+slightest suspicion--"
+
+A sense of virtue lit up Dyce's countenance again. Nothing was more
+agreeable to him than the uttering of generous sentiments. Having
+reassured his father, he launched into a larger optimism.
+
+"Don't Suppose that I have taken your money year after year without
+thinking about it. I couldn't have gone on like that if I hadn't felt
+sure that some day I should pay my debt. It's natural enough that you
+and mother should feel a little disappointed about me, I seem to have
+done nothing, but, believe me, I am not idle. Money-making, I admit,
+has never been much in my mind; all the same, I shall have money enough
+one of these days, and before very long. Try to have faith in me. If it
+were necessary, I shouldn't mind entering into an obligation to furnish
+such and such a sum yearly by when I am thirty years old. It's a thing
+I never said to anyone, but I know perfectly well that a
+career--perhaps rather a brilliant one--is opening before me. I know
+it--just as one knows that one is in good health; it's an intimate
+sense, needing no support of argument."
+
+"Of course I'm glad to hear you speak like that," said the vicar,
+venturing only a glance at his son's face.
+
+"Don't, I beg, worry about your affairs," pursued Dyce, with kindling
+eye. "Cut off my supplies, and go quietly on." He stretched out a
+soothing hand, palm downwards. "The responsibility for the future is
+mine; from to-night I take it upon myself."
+
+Much more in the same vein did Dyce pour forth, obviously believing
+every word he said, and deriving great satisfaction from the sound of
+his praises. He went to bed, at length, in such a self-approving frame
+of mind that no sooner had he laid his head on the pillow than sweet
+sleep lapped him about, and he knew nothing more till the sunlight
+shimmered at his window.
+
+A letter awaited him at the breakfast table; it had been forwarded from
+his London address, and he knew at a glance that it came from Mrs.
+Woolstan, the mother of his pupil. The lady, dating from a house at
+West Hampstead, wrote thus:
+
+
+"Dear Mr. Lashmar,
+
+"You will be surprised to hear from me so soon again. I particularly
+want to see you. Something has happened which we must talk over at
+once. I shall be alone tomorrow afternoon. Do come if you possibly can.
+
+"Sincerely yours,
+
+"IRIS WOOLSTAN."
+
+
+Dyce had come down in a mood less cheerful than that of over-night. As
+happened sometimes, he had slept too soundly; his head was not quite
+clear, and his nerves felt rather unsteady. This note from Mrs.
+Woolstan, he knew not why, caused him uneasiness; a vague prevision of
+ill was upon him as he read.
+
+He had intended passing the day at Alverholme, and, on the morrow,
+travelling to Hollingford. Now he felt no inclination to hazard a call
+upon Lady Ogram; he would return to London forthwith.
+
+"No bad news, I hope?" said his father, when this purpose was announced.
+
+"Mrs. Woolstan wants me back sooner than I expected, that's all."
+
+His mother's lips curled disdainfully. To be at the beck and call of a
+Mrs. Woolstan, seemed to her an ignoble thing. However, she had learnt
+the tenor of Dyce's discourse of the evening before, and tried once
+more to see a radiance in his future.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Hair the hue of an autumn elm-leaf; eyes green or blue, as the light
+fell upon them; a long, thin face, faintly freckled over its creamy
+pallor, with narrow arch of eyebrow, indifferent nose, childlike lips
+and a small, pointed chin;--thus may one suggest the portrait of Iris
+Woolstan. When Dyce Lashmar stepped into her drawing-room, she had the
+air of one who has been impatiently expectant. Her eyes widened in a
+smile of nervous pleasure; she sprang up, and offered her hand before
+the visitor was near enough to take it.
+
+"So kind of you to come! I was half afraid you might have gone out of
+town not that it would have mattered. I did really want to see you as
+soon as possible, but Monday would have done just as well."
+
+She spoke rapidly in a high, but not shrill, voice, with a drawing-in
+of the breath before and after her speech, and a nervous little pant
+between the sentences, her bosom fluttering like that of a frightened
+bird.
+
+"As a matter of fact," cried Lashmar, with brusque cordiality, dropping
+into a chair before his hostess was seated, "I _had_ gone out of town.
+I got your letter at Alverholme, and came back again sooner than I
+intended."
+
+"Oh! Oh!" panted Mrs. Woolstan, on her highest note, "I shall never
+forgive myself! Why _didn't_ you telegraph--or just do nothing at all,
+and come when you were ready? Oh! When there wasn't the least hurry."
+
+"Then why did you write as if something alarming had happened?" cried
+the other, laughing, as he crossed his legs, and laid his silk hat
+aside.
+
+"Oh, did I? I'm sure I _didn't_ mean to. There's nothing alarming at
+all--at least--that is to say--well, it's something troublesome and
+disagreeable and very unexpected, and I'm rather afraid you won't like
+it. But we've plenty of time to talk about it. I'm at home to nobody
+else--It was really unkind of you to come back in a hurry! Besides,
+it's against your principles. You wouldn't have done that if I had been
+a man."
+
+"A man would have said just what he meant," replied Dyce, smiling at
+her with kindly superiority. "He wouldn't have put me in doubt."
+
+"No, no! But did I really write like that? I thought it was just a
+plain little business-like note--indeed I did! It will be a lesson to
+me--indeed it will! And how did you find your people? All well, I hope?"
+
+"Well in one way; in another--but I'll tell you about that presently."
+
+Dyce had known Mrs. Woolstan for about a couple of years; it was in the
+second twelvemonth of their acquaintance that he matured his method
+with regard to women, and since then he had not only practised it
+freely, but had often discussed it, with her. Iris gave the method her
+entire approval, and hailed it as the beginning of a new era for her
+sex. She imagined that her own demeanour was no less direct and
+unconstrained than that of the philosopher himself; in reality, the
+difference was considerable. Though several years older than Dyce--her
+age being thirty-four--she showed nothing of the seniority in her
+manner towards him, which, for all its impulsiveness, had a noticeable
+deference, at moments something of subdued homage.
+
+"You don't mean to say you have bad news?" she exclaimed, palpitating.
+"You, too?"
+
+"Why, then _you_ have something of the same kind to tell me?" said
+Dyce, gazing at her anxiously.
+
+"Tell me your's first--please do!"
+
+"No. It's nothing very important. So say what you've got to say, and be
+quick about it--come!"
+
+Mrs. Woolstan's bosom rose and fell rapidly as she collected her
+thoughts. Unconventional as were the terms in which Lashmar addressed
+her, they carried no suggestion of an intimacy which passed the limits
+of friendship. When his eyes turned to her, their look was unemotional,
+purely speculative, and in general spoke without looking at her at all.
+
+"It's something about Mr. Wrybolt," Iris began, with a face of
+distress. "You know he is my trustee--I told you, didn't I? I see him
+very seldom, and we don't take much interest in each other; he's
+nothing but a man of business, the kind I detest; he can't talk of
+anything but money and shares and wretched things of that sort. But you
+know him you understand."
+
+The name of Wrybolt set before Dyce's mind a middle-aged man,
+red-necked, heavy of eyelid, with a rather punctilious hearing and
+authoritative mode of speech. They had met only once, here at Mrs.
+Woolstan's house.
+
+"I'm sure I don't know why, but just lately he's begun to make
+inquiries about Len, and to ask when I meant to send him to school. Of
+course I told him that Len was doing very well indeed, and that I
+didn't see the slightest necessity for making a change at all events
+just yet. Well, yesterday he came, and said he wanted to see the boy.
+Len was in bed--he's in bed still, though his cold's much better and
+Mr. Wrybolt would go up to his room, and talk to him. When he came down
+again, you know I'm going to tell you the whole truth, and of course
+you won't mind it--he began talking in a very nasty way--he _has_ a
+nasty way when he likes. 'Look here, Mrs. Woolstan,' he said, 'Leonard
+doesn't seem to me to be doing well at all. I asked him one or two
+questions in simple arithmetic, and he couldn't answer.' 'Well,' I
+said, 'for one thing Len isn't well, and it isn't the right time to
+examine a boy; and then arithmetic isn't his subject; he hasn't that
+kind of mind.' But he wouldn't listen, and the next thing he said was
+still nastier. 'Do you know,' he said, 'that the boy is being taught
+_atheism_?'--Well, what could I answer? I got rather angry, and said
+that Len's religious teaching was my own affair, and I couldn't see
+what _he_ had to do with it; and besides, that Len _wasn't_ being
+taught atheism, but that people who were not in the habit of thinking
+Philosophically couldn't be expected to understand such things. I think
+that was rather good, wasn't it? Didn't I put it rather well?"
+
+Iris panted in expectation of approval. But merely a nod was vouchsafed
+to her.
+
+"Go on," said Dyce, drily.
+
+"You're not vexed, I hope? I'm going to be quite frank, you know, just
+as you like people to be. Well, Mr. Wrybolt went on, and would have it
+that Len was badly taught and altogether led in the wrong way, and that
+he'd grow up an immoral and an irreligious man. 'You must remember, Mr.
+Wrybolt,' I said, rather severely, 'that people's ideas about morality
+and religion differ very much, and I can't think you have sufficiently
+studied the subject to be capable of understanding my point of
+view'--It was rather severe, wasn't it? But I think it was rather well
+put."
+
+"Go on," said Dyce, with another nod.
+
+"Well now, I'm quite sure you'll understand me. We _do_ generally
+understand each other. You see, I was put into a most difficult
+position. Mr. Wrybolt is my trustee, and he has to look after
+Len--though he's never given a thought to him till now--and he's a man
+of influence; that is to say, in his own wretched, vulgar world, but
+unfortunately it's a kind of influence one's obliged to think about.
+Len, you know, is just eleven, and one has to begin to think about his
+future, and it isn't as if he was going to be rich and could do as he
+liked. I'm sure you'll understand me. With a man like Mr. Wrybolt--"
+
+"Not so many words," interposed the listener, smiling rather
+disdainfully. "I see the upshot of it all. You promised to send Len to
+school."
+
+Mrs. Woolstan panted and fluttered and regarded Lashmar with eyes of
+agitated appeal.
+
+"If you think I ought to have held out--please say just what you
+think--let us be quite frank and comradelike with each other--I can
+write to Mr. Wrybolt."--
+
+"Tell me plainly," said Dyce, leaning towards her. "What was your
+reason for giving way at once? You really think, don't you, that it
+will be better for the boy?"
+
+"Oh, how _could_ I think so, Mr. Lashmar! You _know_ what a high
+opinion--"
+
+"Exactly. I am quite ready to believe all that. But you will be easier
+in mind with Len at school, taught in the ordinary way? Now be
+honest--make an effort."
+
+"I--perhaps--one has to think of a boy's future--"
+
+The pale face was suffused with rose, and for a moment looked pretty in
+its half-tearful embarrassment.
+
+"Good. That's all right. We'll talk no more of it."
+
+There was a brief silence. Dyce gazed slowly about him. His eyes fell
+on nothing of particular value, nothing at all unusual in the
+drawing-room of a small house of middle-suburb type. There were
+autotypes and etchings and photographs; there was good, comfortable
+furniture; the piano stood for more than mere ornament, as Mrs.
+Woolstan had some skill in music. Iris's widowhood was of five years'
+duration. At two and twenty she had married a government-office clerk,
+a man nearly twice her age, exasperated by routine and lack of
+advancement; on her part it was a marriage of generosity; she did not
+love the man, but was touched by his railing against fate, and fancied
+she might be able to aid his ambitions. Woolstan talked of a possible
+secretaryship under the chief of his department; he imagined himself
+gifted for diplomacy, lacking only the chance to become a power in
+statecraft. But when Iris had given herself and her six hundred a year,
+she soon remarked a decline in her husband's aspiration. Presently
+Woolstan began to complain of an ailment, the result of arduous labour
+and of disillusion, which might make it imperative for him to retire
+from the monotonous toil of the Civil Service; before long, he withdrew
+to a pleasant cottage in Surrey, where he was to lead a studious life
+and compose a great political work. The man had, in fact, an organic
+disorder, which proved fatal to him before he could quite decide
+whether to write his book on foolscap or on quarto paper. Mrs. Woolstan
+devoted herself to her child, until, when Leonard was nine, she
+entrusted him to a tutor very highly spoken of by friends of hers, a
+young Oxford man, capable not only of instructing the boy in the most
+efficient way, but of training whatever force and originality his
+character might possess. She paid a hundred and fifty pounds a year for
+these invaluable services--in itself not a large stipend, but large in
+proportion to her income. And Iris had never grudged the expenditure,
+for in Dyce Lashmar she found, not merely a tutor for her son, but a
+director of her own mind and conscience. Under Dyce's influence she had
+read or tried to read--many instructive books; he had fostered, guided,
+elevated her native enthusiasm; he had emancipated her soul. These, at
+all events, were the terms in which Iris herself was wont to describe
+the results of their friendship, and she was eminently a sincere woman,
+ever striving to rise above the weakness, the disingenuousness, of her
+sex.
+
+"If you knew how it pains me!" she murmured, stealing a glance at
+Lashmar. "But of course it won't make any difference--between us."
+
+"Oh, I hope not. Why should it?" said Dyce, absently. "Now I'll tell
+you something that has happened since I saw you last."
+
+"Yes--yes--your own news! Oh, I'm afraid it is something bad!"
+
+"Perhaps not. I rather think I'm at a crisis in my life--probably _the_
+crisis. I shouldn't wonder if these things prove to have happened just
+at the right time. My news is this. Things are going rather badly down
+at the vicarage. There's serious diminution of income, which I knew
+nothing about. And the end of it is, that I mustn't count on any more
+supplies; they have no more money to spare for me. You see, I _am_
+thoroughly independent."
+
+He laughed; but Mrs. Woolstan gazed at him in dismay.
+
+"Oh! Oh! How very serious! What a dreadful thing!"
+
+"Pooh! Not at all. That's a very feminine way of talking."
+
+"I'm afraid it is. I didn't mean to use such expressions. But
+really--what are you going to do?"
+
+"That'll have to be thought about."
+
+Iris, with fluttering bosom, leaned forward.
+
+"You'll talk it over with me? You'll treat me as a real friend--just
+like a man friend? You know how often you have promised to."
+
+"I shall certainly ask your advice."
+
+"Oh! that's kind, that's good of you! We'll talk it over _very_
+seriously."
+
+How many hours had they spent in what Iris deemed "serious"
+conversation? When Dyce stayed to luncheon, as he did about once a
+week, the talk was often prolonged to tea-time. Subjects of
+transcendent importance were discussed with the most hopeful amplitude.
+Mrs. Woolstan could not be satisfied with personal culture; her
+conscience was uneasy about the destinies of mankind; she took to
+herself the sorrows of the race, and burned with zeal for the great
+causes of civilisation. Vast theories were tossed about between them;
+they surveyed the universe from the origin to the end of all things. Of
+course it was Dyce who led the way in speculation; Iris caught at
+everything he propounded with breathless fervour and a resolute
+liberality of mind, determined to be afraid of no hypothesis. Oh, the
+afternoons of endless talk! Iris felt that this was indeed to live the
+higher life.
+
+"By the bye," fell from Lashmar, musingly, "did you ever hear of a Lady
+Ogram?"
+
+"I seem to know the name," answered Mrs. Woolstan, keenly attentive.
+"Ogram?--Yes, of course; I have heard Mrs. Toplady speak of her; but I
+know nothing more. Who is she? What about her?"
+
+A maidservant entered with the tea-tray. Dyce lay back in his chair,
+gazing vacantly, until his hostess offered him a cup of tea. As he bent
+forward to take it, his eyes for a moment dwelt with unusual intentness
+on the face and figure of Iris Woolstan. Then, as he sipped, he again
+grew absent-minded. Iris, too, was absorbed in thought.
+
+"You were speaking of Lady Ogram," she resumed, gently.
+
+"Yes. A friend of mine down at Alverholme knows her very well, and
+thought I might like to meet her. I half think I should. She lives at
+Hollingford; a rich old woman, going in a good deal for social
+questions. A widow, no children. Who knows?" he added, raising his,
+eyebrows and looking straight at Iris. "She might interest herself
+in--in my view of things."
+
+"She might," replied the listener, as if overcoming a slight
+reluctance. "Of course it all depends on her own views."
+
+"To be sure, I know very little about her. It's the vaguest suggestion.
+But, you see, I'm at the moment, when any suggestion, however vague,
+has a possible value. One point is certain; I shan't take any more
+pupils. Without meaning it, you have decided this question for me; it's
+time I looked to other things."
+
+"I _felt_ that!" exclaimed Mrs. Woolstan, her eyes brightening. "That
+was what decided me; I see now that it was--though perhaps. I hardly
+understood myself at the time. No more pupils! It is time that your
+serious career began."
+
+Lashmar smiled, nodding in reflective approval. His eyes wandered, with
+an upward tendency; his lips twitched.
+
+"Opportunity, opportunity," he murmured. "Of course it will come. I'm
+not afraid."
+
+"Oh it will come!" chanted his companion. "Only make yourself known to
+people of influence, who can appreciate you."
+
+"That's it." Dyce nodded again. "I must move about. For the present, I
+have read and thought enough; now I have to make myself felt as a
+force."
+
+Mrs. Woolstan gazed at him, in a rapture of faith. His countenance wore
+its transforming light; he had passed into a dream of conquest. By
+constitution very temperate in the matter of physical indulgence,
+Lashmar found exciting stimulus even in a cup of tea. For the grosser
+drinks he had no palate; wine easily overcame him; tea and coffee were
+the chosen aids of his imagination.
+
+"Yes, I think I shall go down to Hollingford."
+
+"Who," asked Iris, "is the friend who promised to introduce you?"
+
+There was a scarcely perceptible pause before his reply.
+
+"A parson--once my father's curate," he added, vaguely. "A
+liberal-minded man, as so many parsons are nowadays."
+
+Iris was satisfied. She gave the project her full approval, and
+launched into forecast of possible issues.
+
+"But it's certain," she said presently, in a lower voice, "that after
+this I shall see very little of you. You won't have time to come here."
+
+"If you think you are going to get quite rid of me so easily," answered
+Dyce, laughing--his laugh seldom sounded altogether natural--"you're
+much mistaken. But come now, let us talk about Len. Where are you going
+to send him? Has Wrybolt chosen a school?"
+
+During the conversation that followed, Dyce was but half attentive.
+Once and again his eyes fell upon Mrs. Woolstan with peculiar
+observancy. Not for the first time, he was asking himself what might be
+the actual nature and extent of her pecuniary resources, for he had
+never been definitely informed on that subject. He did not face the
+question crudely, but like a civilised man and a philosopher; there
+were reasons why it should interest him just now. He mused, too, on the
+question of Mrs. Woolstan's age, regarding which he could arrive at but
+a vague conclusion; sometimes he had taken her for hardly more than
+thirty, sometimes he suspected her of all but ten years more. But,
+after all, what were these things to him? The future beckoned, and he
+persuaded himself that its promise was such as is set only before
+fortune's favourites.
+
+Before leaving, he promised to come and lunch in a day or two, for the
+purpose of saying good-bye to Leonard. Yet what, in truth, did he care
+about the boy? Leonard was a rather precocious child, inclined to work
+his brain more than was good for a body often ailing. Now and then Dyce
+had been surprised into a feeling of kindly interest, when Len showed
+himself peculiarly bright, but on the whole he was tired of his
+tutorial duties, and not for a moment would regret the parting.
+
+"I'm sorry," he said, in a moved voice. "I hoped to make a man of him,
+after my own idea. Well, well, we shall often see each other again, and
+who knows whether I mayn't be of use to him some day."
+
+"What a fine sensibility he has, together with his great intelligence!"
+was Iris Woolstan's comment in her own heart. And she reproached
+herself for not having stood out against Wrybolt.
+
+As he walked away from the house, Dyce wondered why he had told that
+lie about the friend at Alverholme. Would it not have been better, from
+every point of view, to speak plainly of Connie Bride? Where was the
+harm? He recognised in himself a tortuous tendency, not to be overcome
+by reflection and moral or utilitarian resolve. He could not, much as
+he desired it, be an entirely honest man. His ideal was honesty, even
+as he had a strong prejudice in favour of personal cleanliness. But
+occasionally he shirked the cold tub; and, in the same way, he found it
+difficult at times to tell the truth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+In the morning he had a letter from Mrs. Woolstan. Opening it
+hurriedly, he was pleased, but not surprised, to discover a cheque
+folded in the note-paper. Iris wrote that, as a matter of course, she
+wished to pay what was owing to him in respect of his tutorial
+engagement so abruptly brought to an end. "Even between friends, one
+must be businesslike. You ought to have received a quarter's notice,
+and, as it is now nearly the end of April, you must allow me to reckon
+my debt as up to the quarterday in September. If you say a word about
+it, I shall be angry, So _no nonsense, please_!"
+
+The phrase underlined was a quotation from Dyce himself, who often used
+it, in serio-joking tone, when he had occasion to reprove Mrs. Woolstan
+for some act or word which jarred with his system. He was glad to have
+the cheque, and knew quite well that he should keep it, but a certain
+uneasiness hung about his mind all the morning. Dyce had his ideal of
+manly independence; it annoyed him that circumstances made the noble
+line of conduct so difficult. He believed himself strong, virile, yet
+so often it happened that he was constrained to act in what seemed
+rather a feeble and undignified way. But, after all, it was temporary;
+the day of his emancipation from paltry necessities would surely come,
+and all the great qualities latent in him would have ample scope.
+
+Plainly, he must do something. He could live for the next few months,
+but, after that, had no resources to count upon. Such hopes as he had
+tried to connect with the name of Lady Ogram might be the veriest
+dream, but for the moment no suggestion offered in any other quarter.
+It would be better, perhaps, to write to Connie Bride before going down
+to Hollingford. Yes, he would write to Connie.
+
+Having breakfasted, he stood idly at the window of his sitting-room.
+His lodgings were in Upper Woburn Place, nearly opposite the church of
+St. Pancras. He had read, he knew not where, that the crowning portion
+of that remarkable edifice was modelled on the Temple of the Winds at
+Athens, and, as he gazed at it this morning, he suffered from the
+thought of his narrow experience in travel. A glimpse of the
+Netherlands, of France, of Switzerland, was all he could boast. His
+income had only just covered his expenditure; the holiday season always
+found him more or less embarrassed, and unable to go far afield. What
+Can one do on a paltry three hundred a year? Yet he regretted that he
+had not used a stricter economy. He might have managed in cheaper
+rooms; he might have done without this and the other little luxury. To
+have travelled widely would now be of some use to him; it gave a man a
+certain freedom in society, added an octave to the compass of his
+discourse. Acquaintance with books did not serve the same end; and,
+though he read a good deal, Dyce was tolerably aware that not by force
+of erudition could he look for advancement. He began to perceive it as
+a misfortune that he had not earlier in life become clear as to the
+nature of his ambition. Until a couple of years ago he had scarcely
+been conscious of any aim at all, for the literary impulses which used
+to inspire his talk with Connie Bride were merely such as stir in every
+youth of our time; they had never got beyond talk, and, on fading away,
+left him without intellectual motive. Now that he knew whither his
+desires and his abilities tended, he was harassed by consciousness of
+imperfect equipment. Even academically he had not distinguished
+himself; he had made no attempt at journalism; he had not brought
+himself into useful contact with any political group. All he could
+claim for encouragement was a personal something which drew attention,
+especially the attention of women, in circles of the
+liberal-minded--that is to say, among people fond of talking more or
+less vaguely about very large subjects. For talk he never found himself
+at a loss, and his faculty in this direction certainly grew. But as yet
+he had not discovered the sphere which was wholly sympathetic and at
+the same time fertile of opportunity.
+
+Among the many possibilities of life which lie before a young and
+intelligent man, one never presented itself to Dyce Lashmar's
+meditation. The thought of simply earning his living by conscientious
+and useful work, satisfied with whatever distinction might come to him
+in the natural order of things, had never entered his mind. Every
+project he formed took for granted his unlaborious pre-eminence in a
+toiling world. His natural superiority to mankind at large was, with
+Dyce, axiomatic. If he used any other tone about himself, he affected
+it merely to elicit contradiction; if in a depressed mood he thought
+otherwise, the reflection was so at conflict with his nature that it
+served only to strengthen his self-esteem when the shadow had passed.
+
+The lodgings he occupied were just like any other for which a man pays
+thirty shillings a week. Though he had lived here for two or three
+years, there was very little to show that the rooms did not belong to
+some quite ordinary person; Dyce spent as little time at home as
+possible, and, always feeling that his abode in such poor quarters must
+be transitory, he never troubled himself to increase their comfort, or
+in any way to give character to his surroundings. His library consisted
+only of some fifty volumes, for he had never felt himself able to
+purchase books; Mudie, and the shelves of his club, generally supplied
+him with all he needed. The club, of course, was an indispensable
+luxury; it gave him a West-end address, enabled him to have a friend to
+lunch or dine in decent circumstances without undue expense, and
+supplied him with very good stationery for his correspondence.
+Moreover, it pleasantly enlarged his acquaintance. At the club he had
+got to know Lord Dymchurch, a month or two ago, and this connection he
+did not undervalue. His fellow members, it is true, were not, for the
+most part, men of the kind with whom Dyce greatly cared to talk; as
+yet, they did not seem much impressed with his conversational powers;
+but Lord Dymchurch promised to be an exception, and of him Dyce had
+already a very high opinion.
+
+After an hour or so of smoking and musing and mental vacillation, he
+sat down to write his letter. "Dear Miss Connie," he began. It was the
+name by which he addressed Miss Bride in the old days, and it seemed
+good to him to preserve their former relations as far as possible; for
+Constance, though a strange sort of girl, nowadays decidedly cold and
+dry, undeniably had brains, and might still be capable of appreciating
+him. "Yesterday I had to come back to town in a hurry, owing to the
+receipt of some disagreeable news, so of necessity I postponed my visit
+to Hollingford. It occurs to me that I had better ask whether you were
+serious in your suggestion that Lady Ogram might be glad to make my
+acquaintance. I know nothing whatever about her, except what you told
+me on our walk to the station, so cannot be sure whether she is likely
+to take any real interest in my ideas. Our time together was too short
+for me to explain my stand-point; perhaps I had better say a word or
+two about it now. I am a Socialist--but not a Social-democrat;
+democracy (which, for the rest, has never existed) I look upon as an
+absurdity condemned by all the teachings of modern science. I am a
+Socialist, for I believe that the principle of association is the only
+principle of progress."
+
+Here he paused, his pen suspended. He was on the point of referring to
+the French book which he had read with so much profit of late, and
+which now lay on the table before him. It might interest Constance; she
+might like to know of it. He mused for some moments, dipped his pen,
+and wrote on.
+
+"But association means division of labour, and that labour may be
+efficient there must be some one capable of directing it. What the true
+Socialism has to keep in view is a principle of justice in the balance
+of rights and duties between the few who lead and the multitude who
+follow. In the history of the world hitherto, the multitude has had
+less than its share, the ruling classes have tyrannised. At present
+it's pretty obvious that we're in danger of just the opposite excess;
+Demos begins to roar alarmingly, and there'll be a poor look out for us
+if he gets all he wants. What we need above all things is a reform in
+education. We are teaching the people too much and too little. The
+first duty of the State is to make citizens, and that can only be done
+by making children understand from the beginning what is meant by
+citizenship. When every child grows up in the knowledge that neither
+can the State exist without him, nor he without the State--that no
+individual can live for himself alone--that every demand one makes upon
+one's fellow men carries with it a reciprocal obligation--in other
+words, when the principle of association, of solidarity, becomes a part
+of the very conscience, we shall see a true State and a really
+progressive civilisation.
+
+"I could point out to you the scientific (biological and zoological)
+facts which support this view, but very likely your own knowledge will
+supply them."
+
+He paused to smile. That was a deft touch. Constance, he knew, took
+pride in her scientific studies.
+
+"We shall talk all this over together, I hope. Enough at present to
+show you where I stand. Is this attitude likely to recommend itself to
+Lady Ogram? Do you think she would care to hear more about it? Write as
+soon as you have time, and let me know your opinion."
+
+On re-reading his letter, Dyce was troubled by only one reflection. He
+had committed himself to a definite theory, and, should it jar with
+Lady Ogram's way of thinking, there would probably be little use in his
+going down to Hollingford. Might he not have left the matter vague? Was
+it not enough to describe himself as a student of sociology? In which
+case--
+
+He did not follow out the argument. Neither did he care to dwell upon
+the fact that the views he had been summarising were all taken straight
+from a book which he had just read. He had thoroughly adopted them;
+they exactly suited his temper and his mind--always premising that he
+spoke as one of those called by his author _L'Elite_, and by no means
+as one of _la Foule_. Indeed, he was beginning to forget that he was
+not himself the originator of the bio-sociological theory of
+civilisation.
+
+Economy being henceforth imposed upon him, he lunched at home on a chop
+and a glass of ale. In the early afternoon, not knowing exactly how to
+spend his time, he walked towards the busy streets, and at length
+entered his club. In the library sat only one man, sunk in an easy
+chair, busied with a book. It was Lord Dymchurch; at Lashmar's
+approach, he looked up, smiled, and rose to take the offered hand.
+
+"I disturb you," said Dyce.
+
+"There's no denying it," was the pleasant answer, "but I am quite ready
+to be disturbed. You know this, of course?"
+
+He showed Spencer's "The Man versus the State."
+
+"Yes," answered Dyce, "and I think it a mistake from beginning to end."
+
+"How so?"
+
+Lord Dymchurch was about thirty, slight in build, rather languid in his
+movements, conventionally dressed but without any gloss or scrupulous
+finish, and in manners peculiarly gentle. His countenance, naturally
+grave, expressed the man of thought rather than of action; its traits,
+at the same time, preserved a curious youthfulness, enhanced by the
+fact of his wearing neither moustache nor beard; when he smiled, it was
+with an almost boyish frankness, irresistible in its appeal to the good
+will of the beholder. Yet the corners of his eyes were touched with the
+crow's foot, and his hair began to be brindled, tokens which had their
+confirmation on brow and lip as often as he lost himself in musing. He
+had a soft voice, habitually subdued. His way of talking inclined to
+the quietly humorous, and was as little self-assertive as man's talk
+can be; but he kept his eyes fixed on anyone who conversed with him,
+and that clear, kindly gaze offered no encouragement to pretentiousness
+or any other idle characteristic. Dyce Lashmar, it might have been
+noticed, betrayed a certain deference before Lord Dymchurch, and was
+not wholly at his ease; however decidedly he spoke, his accent lacked
+the imperturbable confidence which usually distinguished it.
+
+"The title itself I take to be meaningless," was his reply to the
+other's question. "How can there possibly be antagonism between the
+individual and the aggregate in which he is involved? What rights or
+interests can a man possibly have which are apart from the rights and
+interests of the body politic without which he could not exist? One
+might just as well suppose one of the cells which make up an organic
+body asserting itself against the body as a whole."
+
+Lord Dymchurch reflected, playing, as he commonly did, with a seal upon
+his watch-guard.
+
+"That's suggestive," he said.
+
+Dyce might have gone on to say that the suggestion, with reference to
+this very book of Herbert Spencer's, came from a French sociologist he
+had been reading; but it did not seem to him worth while.
+
+"You look upon the State as an organism," pursued Lord Dymchurch. "A
+mere analogy, I suppose?"
+
+"A scientific fact. It's the final stage of evolution. Just as cells
+combine to form the physiological unit, so do human beings combine to
+form the social-political unit the State. Did it ever occur to you that
+the science of biology throws entirely new light on sociological
+questions? The laws operating are precisely the same in one region as
+in the other. A cell in itself is blind motion; an aggregate of cells
+is a living creature. A man by himself is only an animal with superior
+possibilities; men associated produce reason, civilisation, the body
+politic. Could reason ever have come to birth in a man alone?"
+
+Lord Dymchurch nodded and mused. From his look it was plain that
+Lashmar interested, and at the same time, puzzled him. In their
+previous conversations, Dyce had talked more or less vaguely, throwing
+out a suggestion here, a criticism there, and, though with the air of
+one who had made up his mind on most subjects, preserving an attitude
+of liberal scepticism; to-day he seemed in the mood for precision, and
+the coherence of his arguments did not fail to impress the listener.
+His manner in reasoning had a directness, an eagerness, which seemed to
+declare fervid conviction; as he went on from point to point, his eyes
+gleamed and his chin quivered; the unremarkable physiognomy was
+transformed as though from within; illumined by unexpected radiance,
+and invested with the beauty of intellectual ardour. Very apt for the
+contagion of such enthusiasm, Lord Dymchurch showed in his smile that
+he was listening with pleasure; yet he did not wholly yield himself to
+the speaker's influence.
+
+"One objection occurs to me," he remarked, averting his eyes for a
+moment. "The organic body is a thing finished and perfect. Granted that
+evolution goes on in the same way to form the body politic, the
+process, evidently, is far from complete--as you began by admitting.
+Won't the result depend on the nature and tendency of each being that
+goes to make up the whole? And, if that be so, isn't it the business of
+the individual to assert his individuality, so as to make the State
+that he's going to belong to the kind of State he would wish it to be?
+I express myself very awkwardly--"
+
+"Not at all, not at all! In that sense, individualism is no doubt part
+of the evolutionary scheme; I quite agree with you. What I object to is
+the idea, conveyed in Spencer's title, that the man as a man can have
+interests or rights opposed to those of the State as a State. Your
+thorough individualist seems to me to lose sight of the fact that, but
+for the existing degree of human association, he simply wouldn't be
+here at all. He speaks as if he had made himself, and had the right to
+dispose of himself; whereas it is society, civilisation, the
+State--call it what you will--that has given him everything he
+possesses, except his physical organs. Take a philosopher who prides
+himself on his detachment from vulgar cares and desires, duties and
+troubles, and looks down upon the world with pity or contempt. Suppose
+the world--that is to say, his human kind--revenged itself by refusing
+to have anything whatever to do with him, however indirectly; the
+philosopher would soon find himself detached with a vengeance. And
+suppose it possible to go further than that; suppose the despised world
+could demand back from him all it had given, through the course of ages
+to his ancestors in him; behold Mr. Philosopher literally up a tree--a
+naked anthropoid, with a brain just capable of supplying his stomach
+and--perhaps--of saving him from wild beasts."
+
+Lord Dymchurch indulged a quiet mirth.
+
+"You've got hold of a very serviceable weapon," he said, stretching his
+legs before him, and clasping his hands behind his head. "I, for one,
+would gladly be convinced against individualism. I'm afraid it's my
+natural point of view, and I've been trying for a long time to get rid
+of that old Adam. Go on with your idea about the organisation of
+society. What ultimate form do you suppose nature to be aiming at?"
+
+Dyce seemed to reflect for a moment. He asked himself, in fact, whether
+Lord Dymchurch was at all likely to come upon that French work which,
+pretty certainly, he had not yet read. The probability seemed slight.
+In any case, cannot a theory be originated independently by two minds?
+
+His eye lighting up with the joy of clear demonstration--to Dyce it was
+a veritable joy, his narrow, but acute, mind ever tending to sharp-cut
+system--he displayed the bio-sociological theory in its whole scope.
+More than interested, and not a little surprised, Lord Dymchurch
+followed carefully from point to point, now and then approving with
+smile or nod. At the end, he was leaning forward, his hands grasping
+his ankles, and his head nearly between his knees; and so he remained
+for a minute when Dyce had ceased.
+
+"I like that!" he exclaimed at length, the smile of boyish pleasure
+sunny upon his face. "There's something satisfying about it. It sounds
+helpful."
+
+Help amid the confusing problems of life was what Lord Dymchurch
+continually sought. In his private relations one of the most blameless
+of men, he bore about with him a troubled conscience, for he felt that
+he was living to himself alone, whereas, as a man, and still more as
+member of a privileged order, he should have been justifying his
+existence and his position by some useful effort. At three and twenty
+he had succeeded to the title--and to very little else; the family had
+long been in decline; a Lord Dymchurch who died in the early part of
+the nineteenth century practically completed the ruin of his house by
+an attempt to form a Utopia in Canada, and since then a rapid
+succession of ineffectual peers, _fruges consumere nati_, had steadily
+reduced the dignity of the name. The present lord--Walter Erwin de
+Gournay Fallowfield--found himself inheritor of one small farm in the
+county of Kent, and of funded capital which produced less than a
+thousand a year; his ancestral possessions had passed into other hands,
+and, excepting the Kentish farm-house, Lord Dymchurch had not even a
+dwelling he could call his own. Two sisters were his surviving kin;
+their portions being barely sufficient to keep them alive, he applied
+to their use a great part of his own income; unmarried, and little
+likely to change their condition, these ladies lived together, very
+quietly, at a country house in Somerset, where their brother spent some
+months of every year with them. For himself, he had rooms at Highgate
+Grove, not unpleasant lodgings in a picturesque old house, where he
+kept the books which were indispensable to him, and a few pictures
+which he had loved from boyhood. All else that remained from the slow
+Dymchurch wreck was down in Somerset.
+
+He saw himself as one of the most useless of mortals. For his sisters'
+sake he would have been glad to make money, and one way of doing so was
+always open to him; he had but to lend his name to company promoters,
+who again and again had sought him out with tempting proposals. This,
+however, Lord Dymchurch disdained; he was fastidious in matters of
+honour, as on some points of taste. For the same reason he remained
+unmarried; a penniless peer in the attitude of wooing seemed to him
+ridiculous, and in much danger of becoming contemptible. Loving the
+life of the country, studious, reserved, he would have liked best of
+all to withdraw into some rustic hermitage, and leave the world aside
+but this he looked upon as a temptation to be resisted; there must be
+duties for him to discharge, if only he could discover them. So he kept
+up his old acquaintances, and--though rarely made new; he strove to
+interest himself in practical things, if perchance his opportunity
+might meet him by the way; and always he did his best to obtain an
+insight into the pressing questions of the time. Though in truth of a
+very liberal mind, he imagined himself a mass of prejudices; his Norman
+blood (considerably diluted, it is true) sometimes appeared to him as a
+hereditary taint, constituting an intellectual, perhaps a moral,
+disability; in certain moods he felt hopelessly out of touch with his
+age. To anyone who spoke confidently and hopefully concerning human
+affairs, Lord Dymchurch gave willing attention. With Dyce Lashmar he
+could not feel that he had much in common, but this rather loquacious
+young man certainly possessed brains, and might have an inkling of
+truths not easily arrived at. To-day, at all events, Lashmar's talk
+seemed full of matter, and it was none the less acceptable to Lord
+Dymchurch because of its anti-democratic tenor.
+
+"Not long ago," he remarked, quietly, "I was reading Marcus Aurelius.
+You will remember that the idea of the community of human interests
+runs through all his thought. He often insists that a man is nothing
+apart from the society he belongs to, and that the common good should
+be our first rule in conduct. When you were speaking about
+individualism a sentence of his came into my mind. 'What is not good
+for the beehive cannot be good for the bee.'"
+
+"Yes, yes!" cried Dyce, eagerly. "Thank you very much for reminding me;
+I had quite forgotten it."
+
+They were no longer alone in the library; two other men had strolled
+in, and were seated reading; on this account, Lord Dymchurch subdued
+his voice even more than usual, for he had a horror of appearing to
+talk pretentiously, or of talking at all when his words might fall upon
+indifferent ears. Respectful of this recognised characteristic, Lashmar
+turned the conversation for a minute to lighter themes, then rose and
+moved away. He felt that he had made an impression, that Lord Dymchurch
+thought more of him than hitherto, and this sent him forth in buoyant
+mood. That evening, economy disregarded, he dined well at a favourite
+restaurant.
+
+On the third day after posting his letter to Constance Bride, he
+received her reply. It was much longer than he had expected. Beginning
+with a rather formal expression of interest in Dyce's views, Constance
+went on to say that she had already spoken of him to Lady Ogram, who
+would be very glad to make his acquaintance. He might call at Rivenoak
+whenever he liked; Lady Ogram generally had a short drive in the
+morning, but in the afternoon she was always at home. The state of her
+health did not allow her to move much; her eyes forbade much reading;
+consequently, talk with interesting people was one of her chief
+resources.
+
+"I say with _interesting_ people, and use the word advisedly. Anything
+that does _not_ interest her, she will not endure. Being frankness
+itself, she says exactly what she thinks, without the least regard for
+others' feelings. If talk is (or seems to her) dull, she declares that
+she has had enough of it. I don't think there is any need to warn you
+of this, but it may be as well that you should know it.
+
+"Whilst I am writing, I had better mention one or two other
+peculiarities of Lady Ogram. At the first glance you will see that she
+is an invalid, but woe to you if you show that you see it. She insists
+on being treated by everyone (I suppose, her doctor excepted, but I am
+not sure) as if she were in perfect health. You will probably hear her
+make plans for drives, rides, even long walks about the country, and
+something more than mere good breeding must rule your features as you
+listen. Occasionally her speech is indistinct; you must manage never to
+miss a word she says. She is slightly--very slightly--deaf; you must
+speak in your natural voice, yet never oblige her to be in doubt as to
+what you say. She likes a respectful manner, but if it is overdone the
+indiscretion soon receives a startling reproof. Be as easy as you like
+in her presence provided that your ease is natural; if it strikes Lady
+Ogram as self-assertion--beware the lash! From time to time she will
+permit herself a phrase or an exclamation which reminds one that her
+birth was not precisely aristocratic; but don't imagine that anyone
+else is allowed to use a too racy vernacular; you must guard your
+expressions, and the choicer they are the better she is pleased.
+
+"As you may wish to speak of polities, I will tell you that, until a
+year or two ago, Lady Ogram was a strong Conservative; she is now on
+the Liberal side, perhaps for the simple reason that she has quarrelled
+with the Conservative member of Hollingford, Mr. Robb. I need not go
+into the details of the affair; sufficient that the name of Robb
+excites her fury, and that it is better to say nothing about the man at
+all unless you know something distinctly to his disadvantage--and, in
+_that_ case, you must take your chance of being dealt with as a
+calumniator or a sycophant; all depends on Lady Ogram's mood of the
+moment. Detesting Mr. Robb, she naturally aims at ousting him from his
+Parliamentary seat, and no news could be more acceptable to her than
+that of a possible change in the political temper of Hollingford. The
+town is Tory, from of old. Mr. Robb is sitting in his second
+Parliament, and doubtless hopes to enter a third. But he is nearly
+seventy years old, and we hear that his constituents would not be sorry
+if he gave place to a more active man. The hope that Hollingford may
+turn Liberal does not seem to me to be very well founded, and yet I
+don't regard the thing as an impossibility. Lady Ogram has persuaded
+herself that a thoroughly good man might carry the seat. That man she
+is continually seeking, and she carries on a correspondence on the
+subject with party leaders, whips, caucus directors, and all manner of
+such folk. If she lives until the next general election, heaven and
+earth will be moved against Mr. Robb, and I believe she would give the
+half of her substance to anyone who defeated him."
+
+This epistle caused a commotion in Lashmar's mind. The last paragraph
+opened before him a vista of brilliant imaginings. He read it times
+innumerable; day and night he could think of nothing else. Was not here
+the occasion for which he had been waiting? Had not fortune turned a
+shining face upon him?
+
+If only he had still been in enjoyment of his three hundred a year.
+There, indeed, was a troublesome reflection. He thought of writing to
+his father, of laying before him the facts of his position, and asking
+seriously whether some financial arrangement could not be made, which
+would render him independent for a year or two. Another thought
+occurred to him--but he did not care to dwell upon it for the present.
+Twenty-four hours' consideration decided him to go down to Hollingford
+without delay. When he had talked with Lady Ogram, he would be in a
+better position for making up his mind as to the practical difficulty
+which beset him.
+
+He esteemed it very friendly on Connie Bride's part to have written
+such a letter of advice. Why had she taken the trouble? Notwithstanding
+the coldness of her language, Connie plainly had his interests at
+heart, and gave no little thought to him. This was agreeable, but no
+matter of surprise; it never surprised Lashmar that anyone should
+regard him as a man of importance; and he felt a pleasant conviction
+that the boyish philandering of years ago would stand him in good stead
+now that he understood what was due to women--and to himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+So next morning he packed his bag, drove to Euston, and by mid-day was
+at Hollingford. The town, hitherto known to him only by name, had
+little charm of situation or feature, but Dyce, on his way to a hotel,
+looked about him with lively interest, and persuaded himself that the
+main streets had a brisk progressive air; he imagined Liberalism in
+many faces, and noted cheerfully the publishing office of a Liberal
+newspaper. If his interview with Lady Ogram proved encouraging, he
+would stay here over the next day, and give himself time to make
+acquaintance with the borough.
+
+At his hotel, he made inquiry about the way to Rivenoak, a name
+respectfully received. Lady Ogram's estate was distant some two miles
+and a half from the edge of the town; it lay hard by the village of
+Shawe, which was on the highroad to--places wherewith Dyce had no
+concern. Thus informed, he ordered his luncheon, and requested that a
+fly might be ready at three o'clock to convey him to Rivenoak. When
+that hour arrived, he had studied the local directory, carefully looked
+over the town and county newspapers, and held a little talk with his
+landlord, who happened to be a political malcontent, cautiously
+critical of Mr. Robb. Dyce accepted the fact as of good augury. It was
+long since he had felt so lighthearted and sanguine.
+
+Through an unpleasant quarter, devoted to manufactures, his vehicle
+bore him out of Hollingford, and then along a flat, uninteresting road,
+whence at moments he had glimpses of the river Holling, as it flowed
+between level fields. Presently the country became more agreeable; on
+one hand it rose gently to wooded slopes, on the other opened a
+prospect over a breezy common, yellow with gorse. At the village named
+Shawe, the river was crossed by a fine old bridge, which harmonised
+well with grey cottages and an ancient low-towered church; but the
+charm of all this had been lamentably injured by the recent
+construction of a large paper-mill, as ugly as mill can be, on what was
+once a delightful meadow by the waterside. Dyce eyed the blot
+resentfully; but he had begun to think of his attitude and language at
+the meeting with Lady Ogram, and the gates of Rivenoak quickly engaged
+his attention.
+
+The drive wound through a pleasant little park, less extensive,
+perhaps, than the visitor had preconceived it, and circled in front of
+a plain Georgian mansion, which, again, caused some disappointment.
+Dyce had learnt from the directory that the house was not very old, but
+it was spoken of as "stately;" the edifice before him he would rather
+have described as "commodious." He caught a glimpse of beautiful
+gardens, and had no time to criticise any more, for the fly stopped and
+the moment of his adventure was at hand. When he had mechanically paid
+and dismissed the driver, the folding doors stood open before him; a
+man-servant, with back at the reverent angle, on hearing his name at
+once begged him to enter. Considerably more nervous than he would have
+thought likely, and proportionately annoyed with himself, Dyce passed
+through a bare, lofty hall, then through a long library, and was
+ushered into a room so largely constructed of glass, and containing so
+much verdure, that at first glance it seemed to be a conservatory. It
+was, however, a drawing-room, converted to this purpose after having
+served, during the late Baronet's lifetime, for such masculine delights
+as billiards and smoking. Here, as soon as his vision focussed itself,
+Dyce became aware of three ladies and a gentleman, seated amid a little
+bower of plants and shrubs. The hostess was easily distinguished. In a
+very high-backed chair, made rather throne-like by the embroidery and
+gilding upon it, sat a meagre lady clad in black silk, with a silvery
+grey shawl about her shoulders, and an other of the same kind across
+her knees. She had the aspect of extreme age and of out-worn health;
+the skin of her face was like shrivelled parchment; her hands were mere
+skin and bone; she sat as though on the point of sinking across the arm
+of her chair for very feebleness. But in the whitish-yellow visage
+shone a pair of eyes which had by no means lost their vitality; so keen
+were they, so darkly lustrous, that to meet them was to forget every
+other peculiarity of Lady Ogram's person. Regarding the eyes alone, one
+seemed to have the vision of a handsome countenance, with proud lips,
+and carelessly defiant smile. The illusion was aided by a crown of hair
+such as no woman of Lady Ogram's age ever did, or possibly could,
+possess in her own right; hair of magnificent abundance, of rich auburn
+hue, plaited and rolled into an elaborate coiffure.
+
+Before this singular figure, Dyce Lashmar paused and bowed. Pale,
+breathing uneasily, he supported the scrutiny of those dark eyes for
+what seemed to him a minute or two of most uncomfortable time. Then,
+with the faintest of welcoming smiles, Lady Ogram--who had slowly
+straightened herself--spoke in a voice which startled the hearer, so
+much louder and firmer was it than he had expected.
+
+"I am glad to see you, Mr. Lashmar. Pray sit down."
+
+Without paying any attention to the rest of the company, Dyce obeyed.
+His feeling was that he had somehow been admitted to the presence of a
+sovereign, and that any initiative on his own part would be utterly out
+of place. Never in his life had he felt so little and so subdued.
+
+"You have come from town this morning?" pursued his hostess, still
+closely examining him.
+
+"This morning, yes."
+
+Lady Ogram turned to the lady sitting near her right hand, and said
+abruptly:
+
+"I don't agree with you at all. I should like to see as many women
+doctors as men. Doctoring is mostly humbug, and if women were attended
+by women there'd be a good deal less of that. Miss Bride has studied
+medicine, and a very good doctor she would have made."
+
+Dyce turned towards Constance, of whose proximity he had been aware,
+though he had scarcely looked at her, and, as she bent her head
+smiling, he rose and bowed. The lady whom their hostess had
+addressed--she was middle-aged, very comely and good-humoured of
+countenance, and very plainly attired--replied to the blunt remarks in
+an easy, pleasant tone.
+
+"I should have no doubt whatever of Miss Bride's competence. But--"
+
+Lady Ogram interrupted her, seeming not to have heard what she said.
+
+"Let me introduce to you Mr. Dyce Lashmar, who has thought a good deal
+more about this kind of thing than either you or me. Mrs. Gallantry,
+Mr. Gallantry."
+
+Again Dyce stood up. Mr. Gallantry, a tall, loose-limbed, thinly
+thatched gentleman, put on a pair of glasses to inspect him, and did so
+with an air of extreme interest, as though profoundly gratified by the
+meeting. Seldom breaking silence himself, he lent the most flattering
+attention to anyone who spoke, his brows knitted in the resolve to
+grasp and assimilate whatever wisdom was uttered:
+
+"Did you walk out from Hollingford?" asked Lady Ogram, who again had
+her eyes fixed on the visitor.
+
+"No, I drove, as I didn't know the way."
+
+"You'd have done much better to walk. Couldn't you ask the way? You
+look as if you didn't take enough exercise. Driving, one never sees
+anything. When I'm in new places, I always walk. Miss Bride and I are
+going to Wales this summer, and we shall walk a great deal. Do you know
+Brecknock? Few people do, but they tell me it's very fine. Perhaps you
+are one of the people who always go abroad? I prefer my own country.
+What did you think of the way from Hollingford?"
+
+To this question she seemed to expect an answer, and Dyce, who was
+beginning to command himself, met her gaze steadily as he spoke.
+
+"There's very little to see till you come to Shawe. It's a pretty
+village--or rather, it was, before someone built that hideous
+paper-mill."
+
+Scarcely had he uttered the words when he became aware of a change in
+Lady Ogram's look. The gleam of her eyes intensified; deeper wrinkles
+carved themselves on her forehead, and all at once two rows of perfect
+teeth shone between the pink edges of her shrivelled lips.
+
+"Hideous paper-mill, eh?" she exclaimed, on a half-laughing note of
+peculiar harshness, "I suppose you don't know that _I_ built it?"
+
+A shock went through Dyce's blood. He sat with his eyes fixed on Lady
+Ogram's, powerless to stir or to avert his gaze. Then the courage of
+despair suddenly possessed him.
+
+"If I had known that," he said, with much deliberation, "I should have
+kept the thought to myself. But I'm afraid there's no denying that the
+mill spoils the village."
+
+"The mill is the making of the village," said Lady Ogram, emphatically.
+
+"In one sense, very likely. I spoke only of the picturesqueness of the
+place."
+
+"I know you did. And what's the good of picturesqueness to people who
+have to earn their living? Is that your way of looking at things? Would
+you like to keep villages pretty, and see the people go to the dogs?"
+
+"Not at all. I'm quite of the other way of thinking, Lady Ogram. It was
+by mere accident that I made that unlucky remark. If anyone with me had
+said such a thing, it's more than likely I should have replied with
+your view of the matter. You must remember that this district is quite
+strange to me. Will you tell me something about it? I am sure you had
+excellent reasons for building the mill; be so kind as to explain them
+to me."
+
+The listeners to this dialogue betrayed approval of the young man's
+demeanour. Constance Bride, who had looked very grave indeed, allowed
+her features to relax; Mrs. Gallantry smiled a smile of conciliation,
+and her husband drew a sigh as if supremely edified.
+
+Lady Ogram glanced at her secretary.
+
+"Miss Bride, let him know my 'excellent reasons,' will you?"
+
+"For a long time," began Constance, in clear, balanced tones, "the
+village of Shawe has been anything but prosperous. It was agricultural,
+of course, and farming about here isn't what is used to be; there's a
+great deal of grass and not much tillage. The folk had to look abroad
+for a living; several of the cottages stood empty; the families that
+remained were being demoralised by poverty; they wouldn't take the work
+that offered in the fields, and preferred to scrape up a living in the
+streets of Hollingford, if they didn't try their hand at a little
+burglary and so on. Lady Ogram saw what was going on, and thought it
+over, and hit upon the idea of the paper-mill. Of course most of the
+Shawe cottagers were no good for such employment, but some of the young
+people got taken on, and there was work in prospect for children
+growing up, and in any case, the character of the village was saved.
+Decent families came to the deserted houses, and things in general
+looked up."
+
+"Extremely interesting," murmured Mr. Gallantry, as though he heard all
+this for the first time, and was deeply impressed by it.
+
+"Very interesting indeed," said Lashmar, with his frankest air. "I hope
+I may be allowed to go over the mill; I should like nothing better."
+
+"You shall go over it as often as you like," said Lady Ogram, with a
+grin. "But Miss Bride has more to tell you."
+
+Constance looked inquiringly.
+
+"Statistics?" she asked, when Lady Ogram paid no heed to her look.
+
+"Don't be stupid. Tell him what I think about villages altogether."
+
+"Yes, I should very much like to hear that," said Dyce, whose
+confidence was gaining ground.
+
+"Lady Ogram doesn't like the draining of the country population into
+towns; she thinks it a harmful movement, with bad results on social and
+political life, on national life from every point of view This seems to
+her to be the great question of the day. How to keep up village
+life?--in face of the fact that English agriculture seems to be doomed.
+At Shawe, as Lady Ogram thinks, and we all do, a step has been taken in
+the right direction. Lots of the young people who are now working here
+in wholesome surroundings would by this time have been lost in the
+slums of London or Liverpool or Birmingham. Of course, as a mill-owner,
+she has made sacrifices; she hasn't gone about the business with only
+immediate profit in view; children and girls have been taught what they
+wouldn't have learnt but for Lady Ogram's kindness."
+
+"Admirable!" murmured Mr. Gallantry. "True philanthropy, and true
+patriotism!"
+
+"Beyond a doubt," agreed Dyce. "Lady Ogram deserves well of her
+country."
+
+"There's just one way," remarked Mrs. Gallantry, "in which, it seems to
+me, she could have deserved better. Don't be angry with me, Lady Ogram;
+you know I profit by your example in saying just what I think. Now, if,
+instead of a mill, you had built a training institution for domestic
+service--"
+
+"Bah!" broke in the hostess. "How you harp on that idea! Haven't you
+any other?"
+
+"One or two more, I assure you," replied Mrs. Gallantry, with the
+utmost good-humour. "But I particularly want to interest you in this
+one. It's better that girls should work in a mill in the country than
+go to swell the population of slums; I grant you that. But how much
+better still for them to work in private houses, following their
+natural calling, busy with the duties of domestic life. They're getting
+to hate that as much as their menfolk hate agricultural labour; and
+what could be a worse symptom or a greater danger?"
+
+"Pray," cried Lady Ogram, in her grating voice, "how would a servants'
+school have helped the village?"
+
+"Not so quickly, perhaps, but in time. With your means and influence,
+Lady Ogram, you might have started an institution which would be the
+model of its kind for all England. Every female child in Shawe would
+have had a prospect before her, and the village would have attracted
+decent poor families, who might somehow have been helped to support
+themselves--"
+
+Lady Ogram waved her hand contemptuously.
+
+"Somehow! That's the way with your conservative-reform women. Somehow!
+Always vague, rambling notions--"
+
+"Conservative-reform!" exclaimed Mrs. Gallantry, showing a little
+pique, though her face was pleasant as ever. "Surely your own ideas are
+to a great extent conservative."
+
+"Yes, but there's a liberal supply of common sense in them!" cried the
+hostess, so delighted to have made a joke that she broke into cackling
+laughter, and laughed until failure of breath made her gasp and wriggle
+in her chair, an alarming spectacle. To divert attention, Constance
+began talking about the mill, describing the good effect it had wrought
+in certain families. Dyce listened with an air almost as engrossed as
+that of Mr. Gallantry, and, when his moment came, took up the
+conversation.
+
+"Mrs. Gallantry's suggestion," he said, "is admirable, and the sooner
+it's carried out, not merely in one place, but all over England, the
+better. But I rather think that, in the given circumstances, Lady Ogram
+took the wisest possible step. We have to look at these questions from
+the scientific point of view. Our civilisation is concerned, before all
+things, with the organisation of a directing power; the supreme problem
+of science, and at the same time the most urgent practical question of
+the day, is how to secure initiative to those who are born for rule.
+Anything which serves to impress ordinary minds with a sense of social
+equilibrium to give them an object lesson in the substitution of
+leadership for anarchy--must be of immense value. Here was a community
+falling into wreck, cut loose from the orderly system of things, old
+duties and obligations forgotten, only hungry rights insisted upon. It
+was a picture in little of the multitude given over to itself. Into the
+midst of this chaos, Lady Ogram brings a directing mind, a beneficent
+spirit of initiative, and the means, the power, of re-establishing
+order. The villagers have but to look at the old state of things and
+the new to learn a lesson which the thoughtful among them will apply in
+a wider sphere. They know that Lady Ogram had no selfish aim, no wish
+to make profit out of their labour; that she acted purely and simply in
+the interests of humble folk--and of the world at large. They see
+willing industry substituted for brutal or miserable indolence; they
+see a striking example of the principle of association, of
+solidarity--of perfect balance between the naturally superior and the
+naturally subordinate."
+
+"Good, very good!" murmured Mr. Gallantry. "Eloquent!"
+
+"I admit the eloquence," said Mrs. Gallantry, smiling at Lashmar with
+much amiability, "but I really can't see why this lesson couldn't have
+been just as well taught by the measure that I proposed."
+
+"Let me show you why I think not," replied Dyce, who was now enjoying
+the sound of his own periods, and felt himself inspired by the general
+attention. "The idea of domestic service is far too familiar to these
+rustics to furnish the basis of any new generalisation. They have long
+ceased to regard it as an honour or an advantage for their girls to go
+into the house of their social superiors; it seems to them a kind of
+slavery; what they aim at is a more independent form of wage-earning,
+and that's why they go off to the great towns, where there are
+factories and public-houses, work-rooms and shops. To establish here
+the training institution you speak of would have done many sorts of
+good, but not, I think, that particular good, of supreme importance,
+which results from Lady Ogram's activity. In the rustics' eyes, it
+would be merely a new device for filling up the ranks of cooks and
+housemaids, to the sole advantage of an upper class. Of course that
+view is altogether wrong, but it would be held. The paper-mill, being
+quite a novel enterprise, excites new thoughts. It offers the
+independence these people desire, and yet it exacts an obvious
+discipline. It establishes a social group corresponding exactly to the
+ideal organism which evolution will some day produce: on the one hand
+ordinary human beings understanding their obligations and receiving
+their due; on the other, a superior mind, reciprocally fulfilling its
+duties, and reaping the nobler advantage which consists in a sense of
+worthy achievement."
+
+"Very striking indeed!" fell from Mr. Gallantry.
+
+"You seem to have made out a fair case, Mr. Lashmar," said his wife,
+with a good-natured laugh. "I'm not sure that I couldn't debate the
+point still, but at present I'll be satisfied with your approval of my
+scheme."
+
+Lady Ogram, sitting more upright against the back of her chair than
+before her attack of breathlessness, had gazed unwaveringly at the
+young man throughout his speeches. A grim smile crept over her visage;
+her lips were pressed together, and her eyes twinkled with subdued
+satisfaction. She now spoke abruptly.
+
+"Do you remain at Hollingford to-night, Mr. Lashmar?"
+
+"Yes, Lady Ogram."
+
+"Very well. Come here to-morrow morning at eleven, go over the mill,
+and then lunch with us. My manager shall be ready for you."
+
+"Thank you, very much."
+
+"Miss Bride, give Mr. Lashmar your Report. He might like to look over
+it."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Gallantry were rising to take leave, and the hostess did
+not seek to detain them; she stood up, with some difficulty, exhibiting
+a figure unexpectedly tall.
+
+"We'll talk over your idea," she said, as she offered her hand to the
+lady. "There's something in it, but you mustn't worry me about it, you
+know. I cut up rough when I'm worried."
+
+"Oh, I don't mind a bit!" exclaimed Mrs. Gallantry, gaily.
+
+"But I do," was Lady Ogram's rejoinder, which again made her laugh,
+with the result that she had to sink back into her chair, waving an
+impatient adieu as Mr. Gallantry's long, loose figure bowed before her.
+
+Constance Bride had left the room for a moment; she returned with a
+thin pamphlet in her hand, which, after taking leave of Mr. and Mrs.
+Gallantry, she silently offered to Lashmar.
+
+"Ah, this is the Report," said Dyce. "Many thanks."
+
+He stood rustling the leaves with an air of much interest. On turning
+towards his hostess, about to utter some complimentary remark, he saw
+that Lady Ogram was sitting with her head bent forward and her eyes
+closed; but for the position of her hands, each grasping an arm of the
+chair, one would have imagined that she had fallen asleep. Dyce glanced
+at Constance, who had resumed her seat, and was watching the old lady.
+A minute passed in complete silence, then Lady Ogram gave a start,
+recovered herself, and fixed her look upon the visitor.
+
+"How old are you?" she asked, in a voice which had become less
+distinct, as if through fatigue.
+
+"Seven and twenty, Lady Ogram."
+
+"And your father is a clergyman?"
+
+"My father is vicar of Alverholme, in Northamptonshire."
+
+She added a few short, sharp questions, concerning his family and his
+education, which Dyce answered succinctly.
+
+"Would you like to see something of Rivenoak? If so, Miss Bride will
+show you about."
+
+"With pleasure," replied the young man.
+
+"Very well. You lunch with us to-morrow. Be at the mill at eleven
+o'clock."
+
+She held out her skeleton hand, and Dyce took it respectfully. Then
+Constance and he withdrew.
+
+"This, as you see, is the library," said his companion, when they had
+passed into the adjoining room. "The books were mostly collected by Sir
+Spencer Ogram, father of the late baronet; he bought Rivenoak, and laid
+out the grounds. That is his portrait--the painter has been forgotten."
+
+Dyce let his eyes wander, but paid Tittle attention to what he saw. His
+guide was speaking in a dry, uninterested voice, she, too, seeming to
+have her thoughts elsewhere. They went out into the hall, looked into
+one or two other rooms, and began to ascend the stairs.
+
+"There's nothing of interest above," said Constance, "except the view
+from the top of the house. But Lady Ogram would like you to see that,
+no doubt."
+
+Observing Constance as she went before him, Dyce was struck with a new
+dignity in her bearing. Notwithstanding her subordinate position at
+Rivenoak, and the unceremonious way in which Lady Ogram exercised
+authority over her, Constance showed to more advantage here than on her
+recent visit to Alverholme; she was more naturally self-possessed, and
+seemed a freer, happier person. The house garb, though decorous rather
+than ornamental, became her better than her walking-costume. Her
+well-shaped head and thoughtful, sensitive, controlled features, had a
+new value against this background of handsome furniture and all the
+appointments of wealth. She moved as if breathing the air that suited
+her.
+
+From the terrace on the roof, their eyes commanded a wide and beautiful
+prospect, seen at this moment of the year in its brightest array of
+infinitely varied verdure. Constance, still in an absent tone, pointed
+out the features of the landscape, naming villages, hills, and great
+estates. Hollingford, partly under a canopy of smoke, lay low by its
+winding river, and in that direction Dyce most frequently turned his
+eyes.
+
+"I felt very much obliged to you," he said, "for your carefully written
+letter. But wasn't there one rather serious omission?"
+
+Speaking, he looked at Constance with a humorous twinkle of the eye.
+She smiled.
+
+"Yes, there was. But, after all, it did no harm."
+
+"Perhaps not. I ought to have used more discretion on strange ground.
+By the bye, do you take an interest in the mill?"
+
+"A good deal of interest. I think that what you said about it was, on
+the whole, true--though such an obvious improvisation."
+
+"Improvisation? In one sense, yes; I had to take in the facts of the
+case very quickly. But you don't mean that you doubt my sincerity?"
+
+"No, no. Of course not."
+
+"Come, Miss Connie, we must understand each other--"
+
+She interrupted him with a look of frank annoyance.
+
+"Will you do me the kindness not to call me by that name? It sounds
+childish--and I have long outgrown childhood."
+
+"What shall I call you? Miss Bride?"
+
+"It is the usual form of address."
+
+"Good. I was going to say that I should like you to be clear about my
+position. I have come here, not in the first place with a hope of
+personal advantage, but to see if I can interest Lady Ogram in certain
+views which I hold and am trying to get accepted by people of
+influence. It happened that this affair of the mill gave me a good
+illustration of the theory I generally have to put in an abstract way.
+Your word 'improvisation' seems to hint that I shaped my views to the
+purpose of pleasing Lady Ogram--a plain injustice, as you will see if
+you remember the letter I wrote you."
+
+Constance was leaning on a parapet, her arms folded.
+
+"I'm sorry you so understood me," she said, though without the accent
+of penitence, for in truth she seemed quietly amused. "All I meant was
+that you were admirably quick in seizing an opportunity of beginning
+your propaganda."
+
+"I don't think you meant only that," remarked Dyce, coolly, looking her
+in the eyes.
+
+"Is it your habit to contradict so grossly?" asked Constance, with a
+cold air of surprise.
+
+"I try to make my talk--especially with women as honest as I can. It
+seems mere justice to them, as well as to myself. And please observe
+that I did _not_ grossly contradict you. I said that you _seemed_ to me
+to have another thought in your mind beyond the one you admitted.--Tell
+me, please; do you exact courtiership from men? I imagined you would
+rather dislike it."
+
+"You are right; I do."
+
+"Then it's clear that you mustn't be annoyed when I speak in my natural
+way. I see no reason in the world why one shouldn't talk to a
+woman--about things in general--exactly as one does to a man. What is
+called chivalry is simply disguised contempt. If a man bows and honeys
+to a woman, he does so because he thinks she has such a poor
+understanding that this kind of thing will flatter and please her. For
+my own part, I shall never try to please a woman by any other methods
+than those which would win the regard and friendship of a man."
+
+Constance wore a look of more serious attention.
+
+"If you stick to that," she said, with a frank air, "you will be a man
+worth knowing."
+
+"I'm very glad to hear you say so. Now that we've cleared the air, we
+shall get on better together. Let me tell you that, whatever else I may
+fall short in, I have the virtue of sincerity. You know well enough
+that I am naturally ambitious, but my ambition has never made me
+unprincipled. I aim at distinction, because I believe that nature has
+put it within my reach. I don't regard myself as an average man,
+because I can't; it would be practising hypocrisy with myself. There
+is--if you like--the possibility of self-deception. Perhaps I am misled
+by egregious conceit. Well, it is honest conceit, and, as it tends to
+my happiness, I don't pray to be delivered from it."
+
+Constance smiled.
+
+"This is very interesting, Mr. Lashmar. But why do you honour me with
+such confidence?"
+
+"Because I think you and I are capable of understanding each other,
+which is a rare thing between man and woman. I want you as a supporter
+of my views, and, if I succeed in that, I hope you will become a
+supporter of my ambitions."
+
+"What are they, just now?"
+
+"Your letter contained a suggestion; whether you intended it or not, I
+don't know. Why shouldn't I be the man Lady Ogram is looking for--the
+future Liberal member for Hollingford?"
+
+His companion gazed at a far point of the landscape.
+
+"That is perhaps not an impossible thing," she said, meditatively.
+"More unlikely things have come to pass."
+
+"Then it does seem to you unlikely?"
+
+"I think we won't discuss it just now.--You see, from here, the plan of
+the gardens and the park. Perhaps you would like to walk there a
+little, before going back to Hollingford?"
+
+This was a dismissal, and Dyce accepted it. They went downstairs
+together, and in the hall parted, with more friendliness on Constance's
+side than she had hitherto shown. Dyce did not care to linger in the
+grounds. He strolled awhile about the village, glancing over the
+pamphlet with its report of last year's business at the mill, and the
+local improvements consequent upon it, then returned on foot to
+Hollingford, where he arrived with an excellent appetite for dinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Wind and rain interfered with Lashmar's project for the early morning.
+He had meant to ramble about the town for an hour before going out to
+Shawe. Unable to do this, he bought half-a-dozen newspapers, and read
+all the leading articles and the political news with close attention.
+As a rule, this kind of study had little attraction for him; he was
+anything but well-informed on current politics; he understood very
+imperfectly the British constitution, and had still less insight into
+the details of party organisation and conflict. All that kind of thing
+he was wont to regard as unworthy of his scrutiny. For him, large
+ideas, world-embracing theories, the philosophy of civilisation. Few
+Englishmen had a smaller endowment of practical ability; few, on the
+other hand, delighted as he did in speculative system, or could grasp
+and exhibit in such lucid entirety hypothetical laws. Much as he talked
+of science, he was lacking in several essentials of the scientific
+mind; he had neither patience to collect and observe facts, nor
+conscientiousness in reasoning upon them; prejudice directed his every
+thought, and egoism pervaded all his conclusions. Excelling in
+speciousness, it was natural that he should think success as a
+politician within his easy reach; possessed by a plausible theory of
+government, he readily conceived himself on the heights of
+statesmanship, ruling the nation for its behoof. And so, as he read the
+London and provincial papers this morning, they had all at once a new
+interest for him; he probed questions, surveyed policies, and whilst
+smiling at the intellectual poverty of average man, gravely marked for
+himself a shining course amid the general confusion and ineptitude.
+
+At ten o'clock there shot a glint of promise across the clouded sky;
+rain had ceased, the wind was less boisterous. Lashmar set forth
+briskly on foot, and walked to Shawe, where he arrived in good time for
+his appointment. The manager of the mill, a very intelligent Scotchman,
+conscientiously showed him everything that was to be seen, and Dyce
+affected great interest. Real interest he felt little or none; the
+processes of manufacture belonged to a world to which he had never
+given the slightest thought, which in truth repelled him. But he tried
+to persuade himself that he saw everything from a philosophical point
+of view, and found a place for it in his system. The folk employed he
+regarded attentively and saw that they looked healthy, well cared for.
+
+"This must all be very gratifying to Lady Ogram," he remarked, in a
+voice which struck just the right note of dignified reflection.
+
+"I understand that it is," replied the manager. "And to Miss Bride
+also, no doubt."
+
+"Does Miss Bride take an active interest in the mill?"
+
+"In the hands, she does. She is an uncommon sort of young lady and, I
+should say, makes her influence felt."
+
+As this was the most direct statement which the Scotchman had committed
+himself during their hour together, it correspondingly impressed
+Lashmar. He went away thinking of Constance, and wondering whether she
+was indeed such a notable woman. Must he really regard her as an equal,
+or something like it. Needless to say that Dyce at heart deemed all
+women his natural inferiors, and only by conscious effort could
+entertain the possibility that one or other of their sex might view and
+criticise him with level eyes. Six years ago Connie Bride had looked up
+to him; he, with his University culture, held undoubted superiority
+over the country girl striving hard to educate herself and to find a
+place in the world. But much had changed since then, and Dyce was
+beginning to feel that it would not do to reckon on any dulness, or
+wilful blindness, in Constance with regard to himself, his sayings and
+doings. Their talk yesterday had, he flattered himself, terminated in
+his favour; chiefly, because of his attitude of entire frankness, a
+compliment to the girl. That he had been, in the strict sense of the
+word, open-hearted, it did not occur to him to doubt. Dyce Lashmar's
+introspection stopped at a certain point. He was still a very young
+man, and circumstance had never yet shown him an austere countenance.
+
+The sun was shining, the air exquisitely fresh. Lady Ogram had not
+named the hour of luncheon, but it seemed to Dyce that he could hardly
+present himself at Rivenoak before one o'clock; so, instead of
+directing his steps towards the lodge; he struck off into a by-road,
+where the new-opened leafage of the hawthorn glistened after the
+morning's showers. Presently there came speeding towards him a lady on
+a bicycle, and he was sure that it was Constance. She did not slacken
+her pace; clearly she would not stop.
+
+"Good morning!" sounded cheerfully from her, as she drew near. "Have
+you seen the mill?--Come up to the house as soon as you like."
+
+She had swept past, leaving in Dyce a sense of having been cavalierly
+treated.
+
+He turned, and followed towards Rivenoak. When he reached the house,
+Constance was walking among the flower-beds, in her hand a newspaper.
+
+"Do you cycle?" she asked.
+
+"No. I never felt tempted."
+
+"Lady Ogram is having her drive. Shall we stay in the garden, as the
+sun is so bright?"
+
+They strolled hither and thither. Constance had a glow in her checks,
+and spoke with agreeable animation. For a few minutes they talked of
+the mill, and Dyce repeated the manager's remark about Miss Bride's
+influence; he saw that it pleased her, but she affected to put it
+carelessly aside.
+
+"How long have you known Lady Ogram?" he inquired.
+
+"A good many years. My father was once a friend of hers--long ago, when
+he was a curate at Hollingford."
+
+The circumstances of that friendship, and how it came to an end, were
+but vaguely known to Constance. She remembered that, when she was still
+a child, her mother often took her to Rivenoak, where she enjoyed
+herself in the gardens or the park, and received presents from Lady
+Ogram, the return journey being often made in their hostess's carriage.
+In those days the baronet's wife was a vigorous adherent of the Church
+of England, wherein she saw the hope of the country and of mankind. But
+her orthodoxy discriminated; ever combative, she threw herself into the
+religious polemics of the time, and not only came to be on very ill
+terms with her own parish clergyman, but fell foul of the bishop of the
+diocese, who seemed to her to treat with insufficient consideration
+certain letters she addressed to him. Then it was that, happening to
+hear a sermon by the Rev. Mr. Bride in an unfashionable church at
+Hollingford, she found in it a forcible expression of her own views,
+and straight way selected Mr. Bride from all the Hollingford clergy as
+the sole representative of Anglicanism. She spoke of him as "the coming
+man," prophesied for him a brilliant career, and began to exert herself
+on his behalf. Doubtless she would have obtained substantial promotion
+for the curate of St. John's, had not her own vehemence and Mr. Bride's
+difficult character brought about a painful misunderstanding between
+them. The curate was not what is known as a gentleman by birth; he had
+the misfortune to count among his near kinsfolk not only very poor, but
+decidedly ungenteel, persons. His only sister had married an uneducated
+man, who, being converted to some nondescript religion, went preaching
+about the country, and unluckily, in the course of his apostolate,
+appeared at Hollingford. Here he had some success; crowds attended his
+open-air sermons. It soon became known that the preacher's wife, who
+was always at his side, was a sister of Mr. Bride of St. John's, and
+great scandal arose in orthodox circles. Mr. Bride took quite another
+view of the matter, and declared that, in doing so, he behaved simply
+as a Christian. The debate exasperated Lady Ogram's violent temper, and
+fortified Mr. Bride in a resentful obstinacy. After their parting, in
+high dudgeon, letters were exchanged, which merely embittered the
+quarrel. It was reported that the Lady of Rivenoak had publicly styled
+the curate of St. John's "a low-born and ill-bred parson;" whereto Mr.
+Bride was alleged to have made retort that as regards birth, he
+suspected that he had somewhat the advantage of Lady Ogram, and, as for
+his breeding, it at all events forebade him to bandy insults. Not long
+after this, St. John's had another curate. A sequel of the story was
+the ultimate settling at Hollingford of Mr. Bride's sister and her
+husband, where, to this day the woman, for some years a widow,
+supported herself by means of a little bakery.
+
+"I hadn't seen Lady Ogram for a long time," Constance pursued, "and
+when I got my place of dispenser at Hollingford hospital, I had no idea
+of recalling myself to her memory. But one day my friend Dr. Baldwin
+told me that Lady Ogram had spoken of me, and wished to see me. 'Very
+well,' said I, 'than let Lady Ogram invite me to come and see
+her.'--'If I were you,' said the doctor, 'I think I shouldn't wait for
+that.'--'Perhaps not, doctor,' I replied, 'but you are not me, and I am
+myself.' The result of which was that Dr. Baldwin told me I had as
+little grammar as civility, and we quarrelled--as we regularly did once
+a week."
+
+Dyce listened with amusement.
+
+"And she did invite you?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. A month afterwards, she wrote to the hospital, and, as the letter
+was decent, though very dry, I went to Rivenoak. I could not help a
+kindly feeling to Lady Ogram, when I saw her; it reminded me of some of
+the happiest days of my childhood. All the same, that first quarter of
+an hour was very dangerous. As you know, I have a certain pride of my
+own, and more than once it made my ears tingle. I dare say you can
+guess Lady Ogram's way of talking to me; we'll call it blunt
+good-nature. 'What are you going to do?' she asked. 'Mix medicines all
+your life?' I told her that I should like to pass my exams, and
+practise, instead of mixing medicines. That seemed to surprise her, and
+she pooh'd the idea. 'I shan't help you to that,' she said. 'I never
+asked you, Lady Ogram!'--It was a toss up whether she would turn me out
+of the house or admire my courage: she is capable of one or the other.
+Her next question was, where did I live? I told her I lodged with my
+aunt, Mrs. Shufflebotham; and her face went black. Mrs. Shufflebotham,
+I have been told, was somehow the cause of a quarrel between my father
+and Lady Ogram. That was nothing to me. My aunt is a kind and very
+honest woman, and I wasn't going to disown her. Of course I had done
+the wise, as well as the self-respecting, thing; I soon saw that Lady
+Ogram thought all the better of me because I was not exactly a snob."
+
+"This is the first I have heard of your aunt," remarked Dyce.
+
+"Is it? Didn't your father let you know of the shocking revelation I
+made to him the other day?"
+
+"He told me nothing at all."
+
+Constance reflected.
+
+"Probably he thought it too painful. Mrs. Shufflebotham keeps a little
+shop, and sells cakes and sweetmeats. Does it distress you?"
+
+Distress was not the applicable word, for Lashmar had no deep interest
+in Constance or her belongings. But the revelation surprised and rather
+disgusted him. He wondered why Constance made it thus needlessly, and,
+as it was, defiantly.
+
+"I should be very stupid and conventional," he answered, with his
+indulgent smile, "if such things affected me one way or another."
+
+"I don't mind telling you that, when I first knew about it, I wished
+Mrs. Shufflebotham and her shop at the bottom of the sea." Constance
+laughed. "But I soon got over that. I happen to have been born with a
+good deal of pride, and, when I began to think about myself--it was
+only a few years ago--I found it necessary to ask what I really had to
+be proud of. There was nothing very obvious--no wealth, no rank, no
+achievements. It grew clear to me that I had better be proud of _being_
+proud, and a good way to that end was to let people know I cared
+nothing for their opinion. One gets a good deal of satisfaction out of
+it."
+
+Lashmar listened in a puzzled and uneasy frame of mind. Theoretically,
+it should have pleased him to hear a woman talking thus, but the actual
+effect upon him was repellent. He did not care to look at the speaker,
+and it became difficult for him to keep up the conversation. Luckily,
+at this moment the first luncheon bell sounded.
+
+"Lady Ogram has returned," said Constance. They had wandered to the
+rear of the house, and thus did not know of the arrival of the
+carriage. "Shall we go in?"
+
+She led the way into a small drawing-room, and excused herself for
+leaving him alone. A moment later, there appeared a page, who conducted
+him to a chamber where he could prepare for luncheon. When he came out
+again into the hall, he found Lady Ogram standing there, reading a
+letter. Seen from behind, her masses of elaborately dressed hair gave
+her the appearance of a young woman; when she turned at the sound of a
+footfall, the presentation of her parchment visage came as a shock. She
+looked keenly at the visitor, and seemed to renew her approval of him.
+
+"How do you do?" was the curt greeting, as she gave her hand. "Have you
+been over the mill?"
+
+"Greatly to my satisfaction, Lady Ogram."
+
+"I'm glad to hear it. We'll talk about that presently. I'm expecting a
+gentleman to lunch whom you'll like to meet--Mr. Breakspeare, the
+editor of our Liberal paper. Ah, here he comes."
+
+A servant had just opened the hall door, and there entered a slight man
+in a long, heavy overcoat.
+
+"Well, Mr. Breakspeare!" exclaimed the hostess, with some heartiness.
+"Why must I have the trouble of inviting you to Rivenoak? Is my
+conversation so wearisome that you keep away as long as you can?"
+
+"Dear lady, you put me to shame!" cried Mr. Breakspeare, bending low
+before her. "It's work, work, I assure you, that forbids me the honour
+and the delight of waiting upon you, except at very rare intervals. We
+have an uphill fight, you know."
+
+"Pull your coat off," the hostess interrupted, "and let us have
+something to eat. I'm as hungry as a hunter, whatever _you_ may be. You
+sedentary people, I suppose, don't know what it is to have an appetite."
+
+The editor was ill-tailored, and very carelessly dressed. His rather
+long hair was brushed straight back from the forehead, and curved up a
+little at the ends. Without having exactly a dirty appearance, he
+lacked freshness, seemed to call for the bath his collar fitted badly,
+his tie was askew, his cuffs covered too much of the hand. Aged about
+fifty, Mr. Breakspeare looked rather younger, for he had a very smooth
+high forehead, a clear eye, which lighted up as he spoke, and a pink
+complexion answering to the high-noted and rather florid manner of his
+speech.
+
+Walking briskly forward--she seemed more vigorous to day than
+yesterday--the hostess led to the dining room, where a small square
+table received her and her three companions. Lady Ogram's affectation
+of appetite lasted only a few minutes; on the other hand, Mr.
+Breakspeare ate with keen gusto, and talked very little until he had
+satisfied his hunger. Whether by oversight, or intentional
+eccentricity, the hostess had not introduced him and Lashmar to each
+other; they exchanged casual glances, but no remark. Dyce talked of
+what he had seen at the mill; he used a large, free-flowing mode of
+speech, which seemed to please Lady Ogram, for she never interrupted
+him and had an unusual air of attentiveness. Presently the talk moved
+towards politics, and Dyce found a better opportunity of eloquence.
+
+"For some thirty years," he began, with an air of reminiscence, "we
+have been busy with questions of physical health. We have been looking
+after our bodies and our dwellings. Drainage has been a word to conjure
+with, and athletics have become a religion--the only one existing for
+multitudes among us. Physical exercise, with a view to health, used to
+be the privilege of the upper class; we have been teaching the people
+to play games and go in for healthy sports. At the same time there has
+been considerable aesthetic progress. England is no longer the stupidly
+inartistic country of early Victorian times; there's a true delight in
+music and painting, and a much more general appreciation of the good in
+literature. With all this we have been so busy that politics have
+fallen into the background--politics in the proper sense of the word.
+Ideas of national advance have been either utterly lost sight of, or
+grossly confused with mere material gain. At length we see the
+Conservative reaction in full swing, and who knows where it will land
+us? It seems to be leading to the vulgarest and most unintelligent form
+of chauvinism. In politics our need now is of _brains_. A stupid
+routine, or a rowdy excitability, had taken the place of the old
+progressive Liberalism, which kept ever in view the prime interests of
+civilisation. We want men with _brains_."
+
+"Exactly," fell from Mr. Breakspeare, who began to eye the young man
+with interest. "It's what I've been preaching, in season and out of
+season, for the last ten years. I heartily agree with you."
+
+"Look at Hollingford," remarked the hostess, smiling grimly.
+
+"Just so!" exclaimed the editor. "Look at Hollingford! True, it was
+never a centre of Liberalism, but the Liberals used to make a good
+fight, and they had so much intelligence on their side that the town
+could not sink into utter dulness. What do we see now?" He raised his
+hand and grew rhetorical. "The crassest Toryism sweeping all before it,
+and everywhere depositing its mud--which chokes and does _not_
+fertilise. We have athletic clubs, we have a free library, we are
+better drained and cleaner and healthier and more bookish, with all,
+than in the old times; but for politics--alas! A base level of selfish
+and purblind materialism--personified by Robb!"
+
+At the name of the borough member, Lady Ogram's dark eyes flashed.
+
+"Ah, Robb," interjected Lashmar. "Tell me something about Robb. I know
+hardly anything of him."
+
+"Picture to yourself," returned the editor, with slow emphasis, "a man
+who at his best was only a stolid country banker, and who now is sunk
+into fatuous senility. I hardly know whether I dare trust myself to
+speak of Robb, for I confess that he has become to me an abstraction
+rather than a human being--an embodiment of all the vicious routine,
+the foul obscurantism, the stupid prejudice, which an enlightened
+Liberalism has to struggle against. There he sits, a satire on our
+parliamentary system. He can't put together three sentences; he never
+in his life had an idea. The man is a mere money-sack, propped up by
+toadies and imbeciles. Has any other borough such a contemptible
+representative? I perspire with shame and anger when I think of him!"
+
+Dyce asked himself how much of this vehemence was genuine, how much
+assumed to gratify their hostess. Was Mr. Breakspeare inwardly laughing
+at himself and the company? But he seemed to be an excitable little
+man, and possibly believed what he said.
+
+"That's very interesting," Dyce remarked. "And how much longer will
+Hollingford be content with such representation?"
+
+"I think," replied Breakspeare, gravely, "I really think, that at the
+next election we shall floor him. It is the hope of my life. For that I
+toil; for that I sacrifice leisure and tranquillity and most of the
+things dear to a man philosophically inclined. Can I but see Robb cast
+down, I shall withdraw from the arena and hum (I have no voice) my
+_Nunc dimittis_."
+
+Was there a twinkle in the editor's eye as it met Lashmar's smile?
+Constance was watching him with unnaturally staid countenance, and her
+glance ran round the table.
+
+"I'm only afraid," said Lady Ogram, "that he won't stand again."
+
+"I think he will," cried Breakspeare, "I think he will. The ludicrous
+creature imagines that Westminster couldn't go on without him. He hopes
+to die of the exhaustion of going into the lobby, and remain for ever a
+symbol of thick-headed patriotism. But we will floor him in his native
+market-place. We will drub him at the ballot. Something assures me
+that, for a reward of my life's labours, I shall behold the squashing
+of Robb!"
+
+Lady Ogram did not laugh. Her sense of humour was not very keen, and
+the present subject excited her most acrimonious feelings.
+
+"We must get hold of the right man," she exclaimed, with a glance at
+Lashmar.
+
+"Yes, the right man," said Breakspeare, turning his eyes in the same
+direction. "The man of brains, and of vigour; the man who can inspire
+enthusiasm; the man, in short, who has something to say, and knows how
+to say it. In spite of the discouraging aspect of things, I believe
+that Hollingford is ready for him. We leading Liberals are few in
+number, but we have energy and the law of progress on our side."
+
+Lashmar had seemed to be musing whilst he savoured a slice of
+pine-apple. At Breakspeare's last remark, he looked up and said:
+
+"The world moves, and always has moved, at the impulse of a very small
+minority."
+
+"Philosophically, I am convinced of that," replied the editor, as
+though he meant to guard himself against too literal or practical an
+application of the theorem.
+
+"The task of our time," pursued Dyce, with a half absent air, "is to
+make this not only understood by, but acceptable to, the multitude.
+Political education is our pressing need, and political education means
+teaching the People how to select its Rulers. For my own part, I have
+rather more hope of a constituency such as Hollingford, than of one
+actively democratic. The fatal thing is for an electorate to be bent on
+choosing the man as near as possible like unto themselves. That is the
+false idea of representation. Progress does not mean guidance by one of
+the multitude, but by one of nature's elect, and the multitude must
+learn how to recognise such a man."
+
+He looked at Lady Ogram, smiling placidly.
+
+"There's rather a Tory sound about that," said the hostess, with a nod,
+"but Mr. Breakspeare will understand."
+
+"To be sure, to be sure!" exclaimed the editor. "It is the aristocratic
+principle rightly understood."
+
+"It is the principle of nature," said Lashmar, "as revealed to us by
+science. Science--as Mr. Breakspeare is well aware--teaches, not
+levelling, but hierarchy. The principle has always been dimly
+perceived. In our time, biology enables us to work it out with
+scientific precision."
+
+Mr. Breakspeare betrayed a little uneasiness.
+
+"I regret," he said diffidently, "that I have had very little time to
+give to natural science. When we have floored Robb, I fully intend to
+apply myself to a study of all that kind of thing."
+
+Lashmar bestowed a gracious smile upon him.
+
+"My dear sir, the flooring of Robb--Robb in his symbolic sense--can
+only be brought about by assiduous study and assimilation of what I
+will call bio-sociology. Not only must we, the leaders, have thoroughly
+grasped this science, but we must find a way of teaching it to the
+least intelligent of our fellow citizens. The task is no trifling one.
+I'm very much afraid that neither you nor I will live to see it
+completed."
+
+"Pray don't discourage us," put in Constance. "Comprehensive theories
+are all very well, but Mr. Breakspeare's practical energy is quite as
+good a thing."
+
+The editor turned his eyes upon Miss Bride, their expression a
+respectful gratitude. He was a married man, with abundant offspring.
+Mrs. Breakspeare rose every morning at half-past six, and toiled at her
+domestic duties, year in year out, till ten o'clock at night; she was
+patient as laborious, and had never repined under her lot. But her
+education was elementary; she knew nothing of political theories,
+nothing of science or literature, and, as he looked at Constance Bride,
+Breakspeare asked himself what he might not have done, what ambition he
+might not have achieved, had it been his fate to wed such a woman as
+_that_! Miss Bride was his ideal. He came to Rivenoak less often than
+he wished, because the sight of her perturbed his soul and darkened him
+with discontent.
+
+"Discourage you!" cried Lashmar. "Heaven forbid! I'm quite sure Mr.
+Breakspeare wouldn't take my words in that sense. I am all for zeal and
+hopefulness. The curse of our age is pessimism, a result and a cause of
+the materialistic spirit. Science, which really involves an infinite
+hope, has been misinterpreted by Socialists in the most foolish way,
+until we get a miserable languid fatalism, leading to decadence and
+despair. The essential of progress is Faith, and Faith can only be
+established by the study of Nature."
+
+"That's the kind of thing I like to hear," exclaimed the editor, who,
+whilst listening, has tossed off a glass of wine. (The pink of his
+cheeks was deepening to a pleasant rosiness, as luncheon drew to its
+end.) "_Hoc signo vinces_!"
+
+Lady Ogram, who was regarding Lashmar, said abruptly, "Go on! Talk
+away!" And the orator, to whose memory happily occurred a passage of
+his French sociologist, proceeded meditatively.
+
+"Two great revolutions in knowledge have affected the modern world.
+First came the great astronomic discoveries, which subordinated our
+planet, assigned it its place in the universe, made it a little rolling
+globe amid innumerable others, instead of the one inhabited world for
+whose behalf were created sun and moon and stars. Then the great work
+of the biologists, which put man into his rank among animals,
+dethroning him from a fantastic dignity, but at the same time honouring
+him as the crown of nature's system, the latest product of aeons of
+evolution. These conquests of science have put modern man into an
+entirely new position, have radically changed his conception of the
+world and of himself. Religion, philosophy, morals, politics, all are
+revolutionised by this accession of knowledge. It is no exaggeration to
+say that the telescope and the microscope have given man a new heart
+and soul. _But_--" he paused, effectively,--"how many are as yet really
+aware of the change? The multitude takes no account of it, no conscious
+account; the average man lives under the heaven of Joshua, on the earth
+of King Solomon. We call our age scientific. So it is--for a few score
+human beings."
+
+Reflecting for a moment, Dyce felt that it would be absurd to charge
+him with plagiarism, so vastly more eloquent was he than the author to
+whom he owed his ideas. Conscience did not trouble him in the least. He
+marked with satisfaction the attentiveness of his audience.
+
+"Politics, to be a living thing, must be viewed in this new, large
+light. The leader in Liberalism is the man imbued with scientific
+truth, and capable of applying it to the every day details of
+government. Science, I said, teaches hierarchic order--that is, the
+rule of the few, of the select, the divinely appointed. But this
+hierarchy is an open order--open to the select of every rank; a process
+of perpetual renewal will maintain the health of the political
+organism. The true polity is only in slow formation; for, obviously,
+human reason is not yet a complete development. As yet, men come to the
+front by accident; some day they will be advanced to power by an
+inevitable and impeccable process of natural selection. For my own
+part"--he turned slightly towards the hostess--"I think that use will
+be made of our existing system of aristocracy; in not a few instances,
+technical aristocracy is justified by natural pre-eminence. We can all
+think of examples. Personally, I might mention my friend Lord
+Dymchurch--a member of the true aristocracy, in every sense of the
+word."
+
+"I don't know him," said Lady Ogram.
+
+"That doesn't surprise me. He leads an extremely retired life. But I am
+sure you would find him a very pleasant acquaintance."
+
+Lashmar occasionally had a fine discretion. He knew when to cheek the
+flood of his eloquence: a glance at this face and that, and he said
+within himself: _Sat prata biberunt_. Soon after this, Lady Ogram rose,
+and led the company into her verdurous drawing-room. She was beginning
+to show signs of fatigue; seated in her throne-like chair, she let her
+head lie back, and was silent. Constance Bride, ever tactful, began to
+take a more prominent part in the conversation, and Breakspeare was
+delighted to talk with her about ordinary things. Presently, Lashmar,
+in reply to some remark, mentioned that he was returning to London this
+evening whereupon his hostess asked:
+
+"When are you coming back again?"
+
+"Before long, I hope, Lady Ogram. The pleasure of these two days--"
+
+She interrupted him.
+
+"Could you come down in a fortnight?"
+
+"Easily, and gladly."
+
+"Then do so. Don't go to Hollingford; your room will be ready for you
+here. Just write and let me know when you will arrive."
+
+In a few minutes, both men took their leave, and went back to
+Hollingford together, driving in a fly which Breakspeare had ordered.
+For the first minutes they hardly talked; they avoided each other's
+look, and exchanged only insignificant words. Then the editor, with his
+blandest smile, said in a note of sudden cordiality:
+
+"It has been a great pleasure to me to meet you, Mr. Lashmar. May I,
+without indiscretion, take it for granted that we shall soon be
+fighting the good fight together?"
+
+"Why, I think it likely," answered Dyce, in a corresponding tone. "I
+have not _quite_ made up my mind--"
+
+"No, no. I understand. There's just one point I should like to touch
+upon. To-day we have enjoyed a veritable symposium--for me, I assure
+you, a high intellectual treat. But, speaking to you as to one who does
+not know Hollingford, I would suggest to you that our Liberal electors
+are perhaps hardly ripe for such a new and bracing political
+philosophy--"
+
+Dyce broke into gay laughter.
+
+"My dear sir, you don't imagine that I thought of incorporating my
+philosophy in an electioneering address? Of course one must use common
+sense in these matters. Practical lessons come before theory. If I
+stand for Hollingford--" he rolled the words, and savoured them--"I
+shall do so as a very practical politician indeed. My philosophical
+creed will of course influence me, and I shall lose no opportunity of
+propagating it: but have no fear of my expounding bio-sociology to
+Hollingford shopkeepers and artisans."
+
+Breakspeare echoed the speaker's mirth, and they talked on about the
+practical aspects of the next election in the borough.
+
+Meanwhile, Lady Ogram had sat in her great chair, dozing. Constance,
+accustomed to this, read for half an hour, or let her thoughts wander.
+At length overcoming her drowsiness, the old lady fixed a curious gaze
+upon Miss Bride, a gaze of benevolent meditation.
+
+"We shall have several letters to write to-morrow morning," she said
+presently.
+
+"Political letters?" asked Constance.
+
+"Yes. By the bye, do you know anything about Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+"Nothing at all."
+
+"Then find out about him as soon as possible.--What are Mr. Lashmar's
+means?"
+
+"I really can't tell you," answered Constance, slightly confused by the
+unexpected question. "I believe his father is very well-to-do; I have
+heard him spoken of as a man of private fortune."
+
+"Then our friend is independent--or at all events not pinched. So much
+the better."
+
+Again Lady Ogram fell into musing; the countless wrinkles about her
+eyes, eloquent as wrinkles always are, indicated that her thoughts had
+no disagreeable tenor.
+
+"Mr. Lashmar impresses you favourably?" Constance at length ventured to
+ask.
+
+Lady Ogram delayed her answer for a moment, then, speaking thickly in
+her tired voice, and with slow emphasis:
+
+"I'm glad to know him. Beyond a doubt, he is the coming man."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+On his return, Lashmar found a letter from Mrs. Woolstan awaiting him
+at Upper Woburn Place. The lady wrote in rather an agitated strain; she
+had to report that Leonard was already packed off to school, the
+imperious Wrybolt having insisted on sending him away as soon as he had
+recovered from his cold, on a pretence that the boy ought not to lose
+any part of the new term. "It is really very hard on me, don't you
+think? I know nothing whatever about the school, which is a long way
+off, right away in Devonshire: And it does so grieve me that you
+couldn't say good-bye to the poor little fellow. He says he shall write
+to you, and it would be so kind, dear Mr. Lashmar, if you could find a
+moment to answer him. I know how grateful dear Len would be. But we
+will _talk_ about these things, for of course you will come and lunch
+all the same, at least I hope you will. Shall we say Thursday? I am not
+at all pleased with Mr. Wrybolt's behaviour. Indeed it seems to me very
+high-handed, very! And I told him very plainly what I thought. You can
+have no idea how galling is a woman's position left at the mercy of a
+trustee--a stranger too. And now that I am quite alone in the
+house--but I know you don't like people who complain. It's all very
+well for _you_, you know. Ah! if I had your independence! What I would
+make of my life!--Till Thursday, then, and don't, please, be bored with
+my letters."
+
+This Mrs. Woolstan wrote and posted before luncheon. At three o'clock
+in the afternoon, just when she was preparing to go out, the servant
+made known to her that Mr. Wrybolt had called. What, Mr. Wrybolt again!
+With delay which was meant to be impressive, she descended to the
+drawing-room, and coldly greeted the gentleman of the red neck and
+heavy eyelids. Mr. Wrybolt's age was about five and forty; he had the
+well-groomed appearance of a flourishing City man, and presented no
+sinister physiognomy; one augured in him a disposition to high-feeding
+and a masculine self-assertiveness. Faces such as his may be observed
+by the thousand round about the Royal Exchange; they almost invariably
+suggest degradation, more or less advanced, of a frank and hopeful type
+of English visage; one perceives the honest, hearty schoolboy, dimmed
+beneath self-indulgence, soul-hardening calculation, debasing
+excitement and vulgar routine. Mr. Wrybolt was a widower, without
+children; his wife, a strenuous sportswoman, had been killed in riding
+to hounds two or three years ago. This afternoon he showed a front all
+amiability. He had come, he began by declaring, to let Mrs. Woolstan
+know that the son of a common friend of theirs had just, on his advice,
+been sent to the same school as Leonard; the boys would be friends, and
+make each other feel at home. This news Mrs. Woolstan received with
+some modification of her aloofness; she was very glad; after all,
+perhaps it had been a wise thing to send Leonard off with little
+warning; she would only have made herself miserable in the anticipation
+of parting with him. That, said Mr. Wrybolt, was exactly what he had
+himself felt. He was quite sure that in a few days Mrs. Woolstan would
+see that all was for the best. The fact of the matter was that Len's
+tutor, though no doubt a very competent man, had been guilty of
+indiscretion in unsettling the boy's ideas on certain very important
+subjects. Well, admitted the mother, perhaps it was so; she would say
+no more; Mr. Wrybolt, as a man of the world, probably knew best. And
+now--as he was here, she would use the opportunity to speak to him on a
+subject which had often been in her mind of late. It was a matter of
+business. As her trustee was aware, she possessed a certain little
+capital which was entirely at her own disposal. More than once Mr.
+Wrybolt had spoken to her about it--had been so kind as to express a
+hope that she managed that part of her affairs wisely, and to offer his
+services if ever she desired to make any change in her investments. The
+truth was, that she had thought recently of trying to put out her money
+to better advantage, and she would like to talk the matter over with
+him. This they proceeded to do, Mr. Wrybolt all geniality and apt
+suggestiveness. As the colloquy went on, a certain change appeared in
+the man's look and voice; he visibly softened, he moved his chair a
+little nearer, and all at once, before Mrs. Woolstan had had time to
+reflect upon these symptoms, Wrybolt was holding her hand and making
+her an offer of marriage.
+
+Never was woman more genuinely surprised. That this prosperous
+financier, who had already made one advantageous marriage and might
+probably, if he wished, wed a second fortune--that such a man as Mr.
+Wrybolt would think of _her_ for his wife, was a thing which had never
+entered her imagination. She was fluttered, and flattered, and pleased,
+but not for a moment did she think of accepting him. Her eyes fell, in
+demurest sadness. Never, never could she marry again; the past was
+always with her, and the future imposed upon her the most solemn of
+duties. She lived for the memory of her husband and for the prospects
+of her child. Naturally, Mr. Wrybolt turned at first an incredulous
+ear; he urged his suit, simply and directly, with persuasion derived
+partly from the realm of sentiment, partly from Lombard Street--the
+latter sounding the more specious. But Mrs. Woolstan betrayed no sign
+of wavering; in truth, the more Wrybolt pleaded, the firmer she grew in
+her resolve of refusal. When decency compelled the man to withdraw, he
+was very warm of countenance and lobster-hued at the back of his neck;
+an impartial observer would have thought him secretly in a towering
+rage. His leave-taking was laconic, though he did his best to smile.
+
+Of course Mrs. Woolstan soon sat down to write him a letter, in which
+she begged him to believe how grateful she was, how much honoured by
+his proposal and how deeply distressed at not being able to accept it.
+Surely this would make no difference between them? Of course they would
+be friends as ever--nay, more than ever? She could never forget his
+nobly generous impulse. But let him reflect on her broken life, her
+immutable sadness; he would understand how much she would have wronged
+such a man as he in taking advantage of that moment's heroic weakness.
+To this effusive epistle came speedily a brief response. Of course all
+was as before, wrote Wrybolt. He was wholly at her service, and would
+do anything she wished in the matter of her money. By all means let her
+send him full particulars in writing, and he would lose no time; the
+yield of her capital might probably be doubled.
+
+Mrs. Woolstan, after all, went no further in that business. She had her
+own reasons for continuing to think constantly of it, but for the
+present felt she would prefer not to trouble Mr. Wrybolt. Impatiently
+she looked forward to Thursday and the coming of Dyce Lashmar.
+
+He came, with a countenance of dubious import. He was neither merry nor
+sad, neither talkative nor taciturn. At one moment his face seemed to
+radiate hope; the next, he appeared to fall under a shadow of
+solicitude. When his hostess talked of her son, he plainly gave no
+heed; his replies were mechanical. When she asked him for an account of
+what he had been doing down in the country, he answered with broken
+scraps of uninteresting information. Thus passed the quarter of an hour
+before luncheon, and part of luncheon itself; but at length Dyce
+recovered his more natural demeanour. Choosing a moment when the
+parlour-maid was out of the room, he leaned towards Mrs. Woolstan, and
+said, with the smile of easy comradeship:
+
+"I have a great deal to tell you."
+
+"I'm so glad!" exclaimed Iris, who had been sinking into a disheartened
+silence. "I began to fear nothing interesting had happened."
+
+"Have patience. Presently."
+
+After that, the meal was quickly finished; they passed into the
+drawing-room, and took comfortable chairs on either side of the hearth.
+May had brought cold, clammy weather; a sky of billowing grey and
+frequent gusts against the window made it pleasant here by this bright
+fireside. Lashmar stretched his legs, smiled at the gimcracks shelved
+and niched above the mantelpiece, and began talking. His description of
+Lady Ogram was amusing, but not disrespectful; he depicted her as an
+old autocrat of vigorous mind and original character, a woman to be
+taken quite seriously, and well worth having for a friend, though
+friendship with her would not be found easy by ordinary people.
+
+"As luck would have it, I began by saying something which might have
+given her mortal offence." He related the incident of the paper-mill.
+"Nothing could have been better. She must be sickened with toadyism,
+and I could see she found my way a refreshing contrast. It made clear
+to her at once that I met her in a perfectly independent spirit. If we
+didn't like each other, good-bye, and no harm done. But, as it proved,
+we got on very well indeed. In a fortnight's time I am to go down and
+stay at Rivenoak."
+
+"Really? In a fortnight? She must have taken to you wonderfully."
+
+"My ideas interested the old lay as I thought perhaps they might. She's
+very keen on political and social science. It happens, too, that she's
+looking about for a Liberal candidate to contest Hollingford at the
+next election."
+
+Dyce added this information in a very quiet, matter-of-fact voice, his
+eyes turned to the fire. Upon his hearer they produced no less an
+effect than he anticipated.
+
+"A Liberal candidate!" echoed Iris, a-quiver with joyous excitement.
+"She wants you to go into Parliament!"
+
+"I fancy she has that idea. Don't make a fuss about it; there's nothing
+startling in the suggestion. It was probably her reason for inviting me
+to Rivenoak."
+
+"Oh, this is splendid--splendid!"
+
+"Have the goodness to be quiet," said Dyce. "It isn't a thing to scream
+about, but to talk over quietly and sensibly. I thought you had got out
+of that habit."
+
+"I'm very sorry. Don't be cross. Tell me more about it. Who is the
+present member?"
+
+Dyce gave an account of the state of politics at Hollingford, sketching
+the character of Mr. Robb on the lines suggested by Breakspeare. As she
+listened, Mrs. Woolstan had much ado to preserve outward calm; she was
+flushed with delight; words of enthusiasm trembled on her lips.
+
+"When will the election be?" she asked in the first pause.
+
+"Certainly not this year. Possibly not even next There's plenty of
+time."
+
+"Oh, you are _sure_ to win! How can a wretched old Tory like that stand
+against you? Go and make friends with everybody. You only need to be
+known. How I should like to hear you make a speech! Of course I must be
+there when you do. How does one get to Hollingford? What are the
+trains?"
+
+"If you leave Euston by the newspaper train to-morrow morning," said
+Dyce, gravely, "you may be just in time to hear the declaration of the
+poll.--Meanwhile," he added, "suppose we think for a moment of the
+trifling fact that my income is nothing a year. How does that affect my
+chances in a political career, I wonder?"
+
+Mrs. Woolstan's countenance fell.
+
+"Oh--but--it's impossible for that to stand in your way. You said
+yourself that you didn't seriously trouble about it. Of course you will
+get an income--somehow. Men who go in for public life always do--don't
+they?"
+
+She spoke timidly, with downcast eyes, a smile hovering about her lips.
+Dyce did not look at her. He had thrust his hands into his trouser
+pockets, and crossed his legs; he smiled frowningly at the fire.
+
+"Does Lady Ogram know your circumstances?" Iris asked, in a lower voice.
+
+"I can't be sure. She may have heard something about them from--my
+friend. Naturally, I didn't tell her that I was penniless."
+
+"But--if she is bent on having you for a candidate don't you think she
+will very likely make some suggestion? A wealthy woman--"
+
+The voice failed; the speaker had an abashed air.
+
+"We can't take anything of that kind into account," said Lashmar, with
+masculine decision. "If any such suggestion were made, I should have to
+consider it very carefully indeed. As yet I know Lady Ogram very
+slightly. We may quarrel, you know; it would be the easiest thing in
+the world. My independence is the first consideration. You mustn't
+imagine that I _clutch_ at this opportunity. Nothing of the kind. It's
+an opening, perhaps; but in any case I should have found one before
+long. I don't even know yet whether Hollingford will suit me. It's a
+very unimportant borough; I may decide that it would be better to look
+to one of the large, intelligent constituencies. I'm afraid--" he
+became rather severe--"you are inclined to weigh my claims to
+recognition by the fact that I happen to have no money--"
+
+"Oh, Mr. Lashmar! Oh, don't!" exclaimed Iris, in a pained voice. "How
+can you be so unkind--so unjust!"
+
+"No, no; I merely want to guard myself against misconception. The very
+freedom with which I speak to you might lead you to misjudge me. If I
+thought you were ever tempted to regard me as an adventurer--"
+
+"Mr. Lashmar!" cried Iris, almost tearfully. "This is dreadful. How
+could such a thought enter my mind? Is _that_ your opinion of me?"
+
+"Pray don't be absurd," interposed Dyce, with an impatient gesture. "I
+detest this shrillness, as I've told you fifty times."
+
+Iris bridled a little.
+
+"I'm sure I wasn't _shrill_. I spoke in a very ordinary voice. And I
+don't know why you should attribute such thoughts to me."
+
+Lashmar gave way to nervous irritation.
+
+"What a feminine way of talking! Is it impossible for you to follow a
+logical train of ideas? I attributed no thought whatever to you. All I
+said was, that I must take care not to be misunderstood. And I see that
+I had very good reason; you have a fatal facility in misconceiving even
+the simplest things."
+
+Mrs. Woolstan bridled still more. There was a point of colour on her
+freckled cheeks, her lower lip showed a tooth's pressure.
+
+"After all," she said, "you must remember that I am a woman, and if
+women don't express themselves quite as men do, I see no great harm in
+it. I don't think mannishness is a very nice quality. After all, I am
+myself, and I can't become somebody else, and certainly shouldn't care
+to, if I could."
+
+Dyce began to laugh forbearingly.
+
+"Come, come," he said, "what's all this wrangling about? Row did it
+begin? That's the extraordinary thing with women; one gets so easily
+off the track, and runs one doesn't know where. What was I saying? Oh,
+simply that I couldn't be sure, yet, whether Hollingford would suit me.
+Let us keep to the higher plane. It's safer than too familiar detail."
+
+Iris was not to be so easily composed. She remarked a change in her
+friend since he had ceased to be Leonard's tutor; he seemed to hold her
+in slighter esteem, a result, no doubt, of the larger prospects opening
+before him. She was jealous of old Lady Ogram, whose place and wealth
+gave her such power to shape a man's fortunes. For some time now, Iris
+had imagined herself an influence in Lashmar's life, had dreamed that
+her influence might prevail over all other. In marrying, she had
+sacrificed herself to an illusory hope; but she was now an experienced
+woman, able to distinguish the phantasmal from the genuine, and of
+Lashmar's powers there could be no doubt. Her own judgment she saw
+confirmed by that of Lady Ogram. Sharp would be her pang if the
+aspiring genius left her aside, passed beyond her with a careless nod.
+She half accused him of ingratitude.
+
+"I'm not at all sure," she said, rather coldly, "that you think me
+capable of rising to the higher plane. Perhaps trivial details are more
+suited to my intelligence."
+
+Dyce had relieved himself of a slight splenetic oppression, and felt
+that he was behaving boorishly. He brightened and grew cordial,
+admitted a superfluous sensitiveness, assured his companion that he
+prized her sympathy, counted seriously upon her advice; in short, was
+as amiable as he knew how to be. Under his soothing talk, Mrs. Woolstan
+recovered herself; but she had a preoccupied air.
+
+"If you regard me as a serious friend," she said at length with some
+embarrassment, "you can easily prove it, and put my mind at ease."
+
+"How?" asked Dyce, with a quick, startled look.
+
+"You have said more than once that a man and woman who were really
+friends should be just as men are with each other--plain-spoken and
+straightforward and--and no nonsense."
+
+"That's my principle. I won't have any woman for a friend on other
+terms."
+
+"Then--here's what I want to say. I'm your friend call me Jack or
+Harry, if you like--and I see a way in which I can be of use to you. It
+happens that I have rather more money than I want for my own use. I
+want to lend you some--until your difficulties are over--just as one
+man would to another--"
+
+Her speech had become so palpitant that she was stopped by want of
+breath; a rosy shamefacedness subdued her; trying to brave it out, she
+achieved only an unconscious archness of eye and lip which made her for
+the moment oddly, unfamiliarly attractive. Dyce could not take his eyes
+from her; he experienced a singular emotion.
+
+"That's uncommonly good of you, Iris," he said, with all the directness
+at his command. "You see, I call you by your name, just to show that I
+take our friendship seriously. If I could borrow from anyone I would
+from you. But I don't like the idea. You're a good fellow--" he
+laughed--"and I thank you heartily."
+
+Iris winced at the "good fellow."
+
+"Why can't you consent to borrow?" she asked, in a note of persistence.
+"Would you refuse if Lady Ogram made such a suggestion?"
+
+"Oh, Lady Ogram! That would depend entirely--"
+
+"But you must have money from somewhere," Iris urged, her manner
+becoming practical. "I'm not rich enough to lend very much, but I could
+help you over a year, perhaps. Wouldn't you rather go back to Rivenoak
+with a feeling of complete independence?--I see what it is. You don't
+really mean what you say; you're ashamed to be indebted to a woman.
+Yes, I can see it in your face."
+
+"Look at the thing impartially," said Dyce, fidgetting in his chair.
+"How can I be sure that I should ever be able to pay you back? In money
+matters there is just that difference a man can go to work and earn; a
+woman generally can't do anything of the kind. That's why it seems
+unjust to take a woman's money; that's the root of all our delicacy in
+the matter. Don't trouble about my affairs; I shall pull through the
+difficult time."
+
+"Yes," exclaimed Iris, "with somebody else's help. And _why_ should it
+be somebody else? I'm not in such a position that I should be ruined if
+I lost a few hundred pounds. I have money I can do what I like with. If
+I want to have the pleasure of helping you, why should you refuse me?
+You know very well--at least, I hope you do--that I should never have
+hinted at such a thing if we had been just ordinary acquaintances.
+We're trying to be more sensible than everyday people. And just when
+there comes a good chance of putting our views into practice, you draw
+back, you make conventional excuses. I don't like that! It makes me
+feel doubtful about your sincerity--Be angry, if you like. I feel
+inclined to be angry too, and I've the better right!"
+
+Again her panting impulsiveness ended in extinction of voice, again she
+was rosily self-conscious, though, this time, not exactly shamefaced;
+and again the young man felt a sort of surprise as he gazed at her.
+
+"In any case," he said, standing up and taking a step or two, "an offer
+of this kind couldn't be accepted straightaway. All I can say now is
+that I'm very grateful to you. No one ever gave me such a proof of
+friendship, that's the simple fact. It's uncommonly good of you, Iris--"
+
+"It's not uncommonly good of _you_," she broke in, still seated, and
+her arms crossed. "Do as you like. You said disagreeable things, and I
+felt hurt, and when I ask you to make amends in a reasonable way--"
+
+"Look here," cried Lashmar, standing before her with his hands in his
+pockets, "you know perfectly well--_perfectly well_--that, if I accept
+this offer, you'll think the worse of me."
+
+Iris started up.
+
+"It isn't true! I shall think the worse of you if you go down to Lady
+Ogram's house, and act and speak as if you were independent. What sort
+of face will you have when it comes at last to telling her the truth?"
+
+Dyce seemed to find this a powerful argument. He raised his brows,
+moved uneasily, and kept silence.
+
+"I shall _not_ think one bit the worse of you," Iris pursued,
+impetuously. "You make me out, after all, to be a silly, ordinary
+woman, and it's horribly unjust. If you go away like this, please never
+come here again. I mean what I say. Never come to see me again!"
+
+Lashmar seemed to hesitate, looked uncomfortable, then stepped back to
+his chair and sat down.
+
+"That's right;" said Iris, with quiet triumph.
+
+And she, too, resumed her chair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Under the roof at Rivenoak was an attic which no one ever entered. The
+last person who had done so was Sir Quentin Ogram; on a certain day in
+eighteen hundred and--something, the baronet locked the door and put
+key into his pocket, and during the more than forty years since elapsed
+the room had remained shut. It guarded neither treasure nor dire
+secret; the hidden contents were merely certain essays in the art of
+sculpture, sundry shapes in clay and in marble, the work of Sir Quentin
+himself when a very young man. Only one of these efforts had an abiding
+interest; it was a marble bust representing a girl, or young woman, of
+remarkable beauty, the head proudly poised, the eyes disdainfully
+direct, on the lips a smile which seemed to challenge the world's
+opinion. Not a refined or nobly suggestive face, but stamped with
+character, alive with vehement self-consciousness; a face to admire at
+a distance, not without misgiving as one pictured the flesh and blood
+original. Young Quentin had made a fine portrait. The model was his
+mistress, and, soon after the bust was finished, she became his wife.
+
+Naturally, Sir Spencer and Lady Ogram were not bidden to the wedding;
+in fact, they knew nothing about it until a couple of years after,
+when, on the birth to him of a son and heir, Quentin took his courage
+in both hands and went down to Rivenoak to make the confession. He
+avowed somewhat less than the truth, finding it quite task enough to
+mitigate the circumstances of Mrs. Ogram's birth and breeding. The
+exhibition of a portrait paved his way. This superbly handsome
+creature, adorned as became her present and prospective station,
+assuredly gave no shock at the first glance. By some freak of fate she
+had for parents a plumber and a washerwoman--"poor but very honest
+people," was Quentin's periphrase; their poverty of late considerably
+relieved by the thoughtful son-in-law, and their honesty perhaps
+fortified at the same time. Arabella (the beauty's baptismal name)
+unfortunately had two brothers; sisters, most happily, none. The
+brothers, however, were of a roaming disposition, and probably would
+tend to a colonial life; Quentin had counselled it, with persuasions
+which touched their sense of the fitting. So here was the case stated;
+Sir Spencer and his lady had but to reflect upon it, with what private
+conjectures might chance to enter their minds. Quentin was an only
+child; he had provided already for the continuance of the house; being
+of mild disposition, the baronet bowed his head to destiny, and, after
+a moderate interval, Arabella crossed the threshold of Rivenoak.
+
+Of course there were one or two friends of Quentin's who knew all the
+facts of the case; these comrades he saw no more, having promised his
+wife never again to acknowledge or hold any intercourse with them. With
+his bachelor life had ended the artistic aspirations to which he had
+been wont to declare that he should for ever devote himself; Mrs. Ogram
+(she had been for a year or two a professional model) objected to that
+ungentlemanly pursuit with much more vigour and efficacy than the young
+man's parents, who had merely regretted that Quentin should waste his
+time and associate with a class of persons not regarded as worthy of
+much respect. Whether the dismissed cronies would talk or keep silence,
+who could say? Sir Spencer affected to believe that Arabella, when his
+son came to know her, was leading the life of a harmless, necessary
+sempstress, and that only by long entreaty, and under every condition
+of decorum, had she been induced to sit for her bust to the
+enthusiastic sculptor. Very touching was the story of how, when the
+artist became adorer and offered marriage, dear Arabella would not hear
+of such a thing; how, when her heart began to soften, she one day burst
+into tears and implored Mr. Ogram to prove his love, not by wildly
+impossible sacrifice, but simply by sending her to school, so that she
+might make herself less unworthy to think of him with pathetic
+devotion, and from a great distance, to the end of her days. To school,
+in very deed, she had been sent; that is to say, she had all manner of
+teachers, first in England and then abroad, during the couple of years
+before the birth of her child; and by this instruction Arabella
+profited so notably that her language made no glaring contrast with
+that of the civilised world, and her mind seemed if anything more
+acute, more circumspective, than women's generally in the sphere to
+which she was now admitted. Sir Spencer and Lady Ogram did not love
+her; they made no pretence of doing so; and it may be feared that the
+lives of both were shortened by chagrin and humiliation. At the age of
+thirty or so, Quentin succeeded to the baronetcy. In the same year his
+son died. No other offspring had blessed, or was to bless, the romantic
+union.
+
+Behold Arabella, erst of Camden Town, installed as mistress of a house
+in Mayfair and reigning over Rivenoak. Inevitably, legends were rife
+about her; where the exact truth was not known, people believed worse.
+Her circle of society was but a narrow one; but for two classes of
+well-dressed people, the unscrupulous snobs and the cheerily
+indifferent, her drawing-room would have been painfully bare. Some
+families knew her because Sir Quentin was one of the richest men in his
+county; certain persons accepted her invitations because she was not
+exactly like other hostesses, and could talk in rather an amusing way.
+The years went on; scandal lost its verdure; Lady Ogram was accepted as
+a queer woman with a queer history, a rather vulgar eccentric, whose
+caprices and enterprises afforded agreeable matter for gossip. No one
+had ever ventured to assail her post-matrimonial reputation; she was
+fiercely virtuous, and would hold no terms with any woman not wholly
+above reproach. It had to be admitted that she bore herself with
+increasing dignity; moreover, that she showed a disposition to use her
+means and influence for what are called good ends. Towards the year
+1870 the name of Lady Ogram began to be mentioned with respect.
+
+Then her husband died. Sir Quentin had doubtless fallen short of entire
+happiness; before middle-age he was a taciturn, washed-out sort of man,
+with a look of timid anxiety. Perchance he regretted the visions of his
+youth, the dreams of glory in marble. When he became master of
+Rivenoak, and gave up his London house, Arabella wished him to destroy
+all his sculpture, that no evidence might remain of the relations which
+had at first existed between them, no visible relic of the time which
+she refused to remember. Sir Quentin pleaded against this condemnation,
+and obtained a compromise. The fine bust, and a few other of his best
+things, were to be transferred to Rivenoak, and there kept under lock
+and key. Often had the baronet felt that he would like to look at the
+achievements of his hopeful time, but he never summoned courage to
+mount to the attic. His years went by in a mouldering inactivity. Once
+or twice he escaped alone to the Continent, and wandered for weeks
+about the Italian sculpture-galleries, living in the sunny, ardent
+past; he came back nerve-shaken and low in health. His death was
+sudden--'failure of the heart's action,' said doctors, in their
+indisputable phrase--and Lady Ogram shut herself up for a time that she
+might not have the trouble of grieving before witnesses.
+
+The baronet had behaved very generously to her in his last will and
+testament. Certain sums went to kinsfolk, to charities, to servants;
+his land and the bulk of his personal estate became Lady Ogram's own.
+She was a most capable and energetic woman of affairs; by her counsel,
+Sir Quentin had increased his wealth, and doubtless it seemed to him
+that no one had so good a right as she to enjoy its possession. The
+sacrifice he had made for her, though he knew it a blight upon his
+life, did but increase the power exercised over him by his arbitrary
+spouse; he never ceased to feel a certain pride in her, pride in the
+beauty of her face and form, pride in the mental and moral vigour which
+made her so striking an exception to the rule that low-born English
+girls cannot rise above their native condition. Arabella's family had
+given him no trouble; holding it a duty to abandon them, she never saw
+parents or brothers after her marriage, and never spoke of them. Though
+violent of temper, she had never made her husband suffer from this
+characteristic; to be sure, Sir Quentin was from the first, submissive,
+and rarely gave her occasion for displeasure. Over the baronet's grave
+in the little churchyard of Shawe she raised a costly monument. Its
+sole inscription was the name of the deceased, with the dates of his
+birth and death; Lady Ogram knew not, indeed, what else to add.
+
+Fully another ten years elapsed before the widow's health showed any
+sign of failing. It was whilst passing a winter in Cornwall, that she
+suffered a slight paralytic attack, speedily, in appearance, overcome,
+but the beginning of steady decline. Her intellectual activity had
+seemed to increase as time went on. Outgrowing various phases of
+orthodox religious zeal, outgrowing an unreasoned conservatism in
+political and social views, she took up all manner of novel causes, and
+made Rivenoak a place of pilgrimage for the apostles of revolution. Yet
+the few persons who enjoyed close acquaintance with her knew that, at
+heart, she still nourished the pride of her Tank, and that she had
+little if any genuine sympathy with democratic principles. Only a moral
+restlessness, a perhaps half-conscious lack of adaptation to her
+circumstances, accounted for the antinomianism which took hold upon
+her. Local politics found her commonly on the Conservative side, and,
+as certain indiscreet inquirers found to their cost, it was perilous to
+seek Lady Ogram's reasons for this course. But there came at length a
+schism between her and the Hollingford Tories: it dated from the
+initial stage of her great quarrel with their representative Mr. Robb.
+
+Lady Ogram, who was on the lookout in these latter years for struggling
+merit or talent which she could assist, interested herself in the son
+of a poor woman of Shawe, a boy who had won a scholarship at
+Hollingford School, and seemed full of promise. Being about sixteen,
+the lad had a great desire to enter a bank, and Lady Ogram put his case
+before the senior partner in the chief Hollingford banking-house, who
+was no other than Mr. Robb himself. Thus recommended, the boy soon had
+his wish; he was admitted to a clerkship. But less than six months
+proved him so unsuitable a member of the establishment that he received
+notice of dismissal. Not till after this step had been taken did Lady
+Ogram hear of it. She was indignant at what seemed to her a lack of
+courtesy; she made inquiries, persuaded herself that her _protege_ had
+been harshly dealt with, and wrote a very pungent letter to the head of
+the firm. Mr. Robb did not himself reply, and the grave arguments urged
+by his subordinate served nothing to mitigate Lady Ogram's wrath.
+Insult had been added to injury; her ladyship straightway withdrew an
+account she kept at the bank, and dispatched to the M. P. a second
+letter, so forcible in its wording that it received no answer at all.
+
+Never half-hearted in her quarrels, Lady Ogram made known to all her
+acquaintances in the neighbourhood the opinion she had of Mr. Robb, and
+was in no wise discouraged when it came to her ears that the banker M.
+P. spoke of taking legal proceedings against her. It happened that Mr.
+Robb about this time addressed an important meeting of his
+constituents. His speech was not brilliant, and Lady Ogram made great
+fun of the newspaper report. He reminded her, she said, of a specially
+stupid organ-grinder, grinding all out of time the vulgarest and most
+threadbare tunes. Henceforth, applying the name of a character in
+Dickens, she spoke of Hollingford's representative as Robb the Grinder;
+which, when Mr. Robb heard of it, as of course he did very soon, by no
+means sweetened his disposition towards "the termagant of Rivenoak"--a
+phrase he was supposed to have himself invented. "I'll grind her!"
+remarked the honourable gentleman, in the bosom of his family, and
+before long he found his opportunity. In the next parliamentary recess,
+he again spoke at Hollingford, this time at a festal meeting of the
+Conservative Club, where the gentility of town and district was well
+represented. His subject was the British Aristocracy, its glories in
+the past, its honours in the present, and the services it would render
+in a future dark with revolutionary menace. The only passage which had
+any particular meaning, or to which anyone listened, ran pretty much
+thus:
+
+"Ladies and gentleman--ha--hum--we pride ourselves on the fact
+that--ha--our Aristocracy is recruited from the choice representatives
+of the middle class--hum. The successful in every--that is to say in
+all the respectable branches of activity--ha--see before them the
+possibility, I would say the glorious possibility, of taking a seat in
+that illustrious Upper Chamber, which is the balance of our free
+Constitution. May the day never come, ladies and gentlemen,
+when--ha--the ranks of our nobility suffer an intrusion of the
+unworthy--hum. And I would extend this remark to the order below that
+of peers, to the hereditary dignity which often
+rewards--ha--distinguished merit. May those simple titles, so
+pleasant--hum--to our ears, whether applied, I say, to man or
+woman--ha--hum--ha--never be degraded by ignoble bearers, by the low
+born--ha--by the tainted in repute--ha--in short by any of those unfit,
+whether man or woman--ha--hum--who, like vile weeds, are thrown up to
+the surface by the, shall I say, deluge of democracy."
+
+Every hearer saw the application of this, and Lady Ogram had not long
+to wait before she read it in print. Her temper that day was not mild.
+She had occasion to controvert a friend, a Conservative lady, on some
+little point of fact in an innocent gossip, and that lady never again
+turned her steps to Rivenoak.
+
+But worse was to come. Rarely had Lady Ogram any trouble with her
+domestics; she chose them very carefully, and kept them for a long
+time; they feared her, but respected her power of ruling, the rarest
+gift in women of whatever rank. Now it befell that the maid in personal
+attendance upon her left to be married, and in her engagement of a
+successor Lady Ogram (perhaps because of her turbid state of mind just
+now) was less circumspect than usual; she did not ascertain, for
+instance, that the handmaid had a sister attached in like capacity to
+the person of Mrs. Robb, nor did she note certain indications of a
+temper far too closely resembling her own. Before many days had passed,
+mistress and attendant found themselves on cool terms, and from this to
+the extremity of warmth was a step as fatally easy as that from the
+sublime to the ridiculous. Lady Ogram gave an order; it was imperfectly
+obeyed. Lady Ogram, her eyes blazing with wrath, demanded an
+explanation of this neglect; met with inadequate excuses, she thundered
+and lightened. Any ordinary domestic would have been terror-stricken,
+but this handmaid echoed storm with storm; she fronted the lady of
+Rivenoak as no one had ever dared to do. The baronet's widow, losing
+all command of herself, caught up the nearest missile--a little
+ivory-framed hand-mirror and hurled it at her antagonist, who was
+struck full on the forehead and staggered.
+
+"You shall pay for this, you old hag," shrieked the injured woman.
+"I'll pull you up before the Hollingford magistrates, and I'll tell
+them where you got your manners. I know now that it's true, what Mrs.
+Robb told my sister, that you began life as a"--Saxon monosyllable--"on
+London streets!"
+
+Some minutes later, a servant sent to Lady Ogram's room by the
+retreating combatant found her mistress lying unconscious. For a day or
+two the lady of Rivenoak was thought to be near her end; but the
+struggle prolonged itself, hope was seen, and in three months' time the
+patient went about her garden and park in a bath chair. Doctors opined
+that she would never walk again; yet, before six months were out, Lady
+Ogram was down in Cornwall, taking the air very much as of old. But her
+aspect had greatly changed; her body had shrunk, her face had become
+that of an old, old woman. Then it was that she renewed her falling
+locks, and appeared all at once with the magnificent crown of auburn
+hair which was henceforth to astonish beholders.
+
+More than ten years had now elapsed since that serious illness. Lady
+Ogram's age was seventy-nine. Medical science declared her a marvel,
+and prudently held it possible that she might live to ninety.
+
+What to do with her great possessions had long been a harassing subject
+of thought with Lady Ogram. She wished to use them for some
+praiseworthy purpose, which, at the same time, would perpetuate her
+memory. More than twenty years ago she had instructed her solicitor to
+set on foot an inquiry for surviving members of her own family. The
+name was Tomalin. Search had gone on with more or less persistence, and
+Tomalins had come to light, but in no case could a clear connection be
+established with the genealogical tree, which so far as Arabella had
+knowledge of it, rooted in the person of John Tomalin of Hackney, her
+grandfather, by trade a cabinet-maker, deceased somewhere about 1840.
+Since her illness, Lady Ogram had fallen into the habit of brooding
+over the days long gone by. She revived the memory of her home in
+Camden Town, of her life as a not-ill-cared-for child, of her
+experiences in a West-end workroom, her temptations, multiplied as she
+grew to the age of independence, her contempt of girls who "went
+wrong," these domestic quarrels and miseries which led to her breaking
+away and becoming an artists' model. How remote it all was! Had she not
+lived through it in a prior existence, with rebirth to the life of
+luxury and command which alone seemed natural to her? All but sixty
+years had passed since she said good-bye for ever to Camden Town, and
+for thirty years at least, the greater part of her married life, she
+had scarce turned a thought in that direction. Long ago her father and
+mother were dead; she knew of it only from the solicitor, Mr.
+Kerchever, who, after the death of Sir Quentin, gave her a full account
+of the baronet's pecuniary relations with the Tomalin household. No
+blackmailing had ever been practised; the plumber and his wife were
+content with what they received, (Arabella felt a satisfaction in
+remembering that of her own accord she had asked her husband to do
+something for them, when she might very well have disregarded them
+altogether,) and the two brothers, who were supposed to have left
+England, had never been heard of again. The failure to discover anyone
+named Tomalin whom she could regard as of her own blood was now a
+disappointment to Lady Ogram; sometimes she even fretted about it. Mr.
+Kerchever had it in charge to renew the inquiry, to use every possible
+means, and spare no outlay. The old woman yearned for kinsfolk, as the
+younger sometimes do for offspring of their own.
+
+The engagement of Constance Bride as resident secretary resulted no
+doubt from this craving in the old lady's mind for human affection.
+Perhaps she felt that she had behaved with less than justice to the
+girl's father; moreover, Constance as a little child had greatly won
+her liking, and in the young woman she perceived a capability, an
+independence, which strongly appealed to her. Thus far they had got on
+very well together, and Lady Ogram began to think that she had found in
+Constance what she had long been looking for--one of her own sex equal
+to the burden of a great responsibility and actuated by motives pure
+enough to make her worthy of a high privilege.
+
+Had her girlhood fallen into brutal hands, Arabella's native savagery
+would doubtless have developed strange excesses in the life of a social
+outlaw. The companionship of Quentin Ogram, a mild idealist,
+good-naturedly critical of the commonplace, though it often wearied her
+and irritated her primitive interests, was a civilising influence, the
+results of which continued to manifest themselves after the baronet's
+death. On the aesthetic side Arabella profited not at all; to the
+beautiful she ever presented a hard insensibility, and in later years
+she ceased even to affect pleasure in the things of nature or art which
+people generally admired. Her flowery and leafy drawing-room indicated
+no personal taste; it came of a suggestion by her gardener when she
+converted to her own use the former smoking-room; finding that people
+admired and thought it original, she made the arrangement a permanence,
+anxious only that the plants exhibited should be nicer and finer than
+those possessed by her neighbours. On the other hand, her moral life
+had from the first shown capacity of expansion; it held at its service
+an intellect, of no very fine quality indeed, but acute and energetic.
+In all practical affairs she was greatly superior to the average woman,
+adding to woman's meticulous sense of interest and persistent diplomacy
+a breadth of view found only in exceptional males; this faculty the
+circumstances of her life richly fostered, and, by anomaly, advancing
+age enlarged, instead of contracting, the liberality of her spirit.
+After fifty years told, when ordinary mortals have long since given
+their measure in heart and brain, Lady Ogram steadily advanced.
+Solitary possessor of wealth, autocrat over a little world of her own,
+instead of fossilising in dull dignity, she proved herself receptive of
+many influences with which the time was fraught. She cast off
+beliefs--or what she had held as such--and adopted others; she
+exchanged old prejudices for new forms of zeal; above all, she chose to
+be in touch with youth and aspiration rather than with disillusioned or
+retrospective age. Only when failing health shadowed the way before her
+did she begin to lose that confident carriage of the mind which,
+together with her profound materialism, had made worry and regret and
+apprehension things unknown to her. Thus, when old but by no means
+senile, she learnt that disquiet of conscience, so common in our day,
+which has nothing to do with spiritual perceptiveness, but comes of
+habitual concentration on every-day cares and woes, on the life of the
+world as apart from that of the soul. Through sleepless nights, Lady
+Ogram brooded over the contrast between her own exaltation and the
+hopeless level of the swinking multitude. What should she do with her
+money? The question perturbed her with a sense of responsibility which
+would have had no meaning for her in earlier years. How could she best
+use the vast opportunity for good which lay to her hand?
+
+Endless were the projects she formed, rejected, took up again. Vast was
+the correspondence she held with all manner of representative people,
+seeking for information, accumulating reports, lectures, argumentative
+pamphlets, theoretic volumes, in mass altogether beyond her ability to
+cope with; nowadays, her secretary read and digested and summarised
+with tireless energy. Lady Ogram had never cared much for reading; she
+admired Constance's quick intelligence and power of grappling with
+printed matter. But that she had little faith in the future of her own
+sex, she would have been tempted to say: "There is the coming woman."
+Miss Bride's companionship was soon indispensable to her; she had begun
+to dread the thought of being left alone with her multiplying
+solicitudes and uncertainties.
+
+Her great resource in these days was her savage hatred of Mr. Robb and
+his family, and of all in any way adhering to him. Whenever she fixed
+her mind on that, all wider troubles fled into space, and she was the
+natural woman of her prime once more. Since making the acquaintance of
+Dyce Lashmar, she had thought of little but this invigorating theme. At
+last she had found the man to stand against Robb the Grinder, the man
+of hope, a political and moral enthusiast who might sweep away the mass
+of rotten privilege and precedent encumbering the borough of
+Hollingford. She wrote to all her friends, at Hollingford and
+throughout the country, making known that the ideal candidate in the
+Liberal cause had at last been discovered. And presently she sent out
+invitations to a dinner, on a day a fortnight ahead, which should
+assemble some dozen of her faithful, to meet and hear the eloquent
+young philosopher.
+
+Excitement was not good for Lady Ogram's health; the doctors agreed in
+prescribing tranquillity, and she had so far taken their advice as to
+live of late in comparative retirement. Her observant companion noticed
+that the conversations with Lashmar had been followed by signs of great
+fatigue; an agitated manner, a temper even more uncertain than usual,
+and physical symptoms which Constance had learnt to look for, proved
+during the ensuing days that the invalid was threatened with another
+crisis. Acting on her own responsibility, Constance addressed a note to
+Dr. Baldwin, who presently, as if making a casual call, dropped in to
+see his patient. The doctor knew how to comport himself with Lady
+Ogram. He began by remarking cheerfully how well she looked, and asking
+whether she had settled the details of her summer holiday. Dull and
+rather sullen of air, Lady Ogram replied with insignificant brevities;
+then, as the doctor chatted on about local matters, her interest
+gradually awoke.
+
+"Anything more been done about the new hospital?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, there are promises, but nothing really important. It'll cost far
+more money than there seems any chance as yet of getting. We ought to
+buy that bit of land I told you about on Burgess Hill. The price is
+high, but it's a perfect situation, and I'm afraid it'll be going to
+the builders if something isn't soon done."
+
+Lady Ogram would have purchased the site in question long since, for it
+was her purpose to act decisively in this matter of the much-needed
+hospital, but it happened that the unspeakable Robb was the man who had
+first drawn public attention to the suitability of Burgess Hill, and
+Lady Ogram was little inclined to follow where Robb had led. She hoped
+to find a yet better site, and, by undertaking at once both purchase of
+land and construction of the building, with a liberal endowment added,
+to leave in the lurch all philanthropic rivals. For years she had
+possessed plans and pictures of "The Lady Ogram Hospital." She cared
+for no enterprise, however laudable, in which she could only be a
+sharer; the initiative must be hers, and hers the glory.
+
+Discreetly, Dr. Baldwin worked round to the subject of his patient's
+health. He hoped she was committing no imprudence in the way of
+excessive mental exertion. It seemed to him--perhaps he was
+mistaken--that talk agitated her more than usual. Quiet and
+repose--quiet and repose.
+
+That afternoon Lady Ogram was obliged to lie down, a necessity she
+always disliked in the daytime, and for two or three days she kept her
+room. Constance now and then read to her, but persuaded her to speak as
+little as possible of exciting subjects. She saw no one but this
+companion. Of late she had been in the habit of fixing her look upon
+Constance, as though much occupied with thoughts concerning her. When
+she felt able to move about again, they sat together one morning on the
+terrace before the house, and Lady Ogram, after a long inspection of
+her companion's countenance, asked suddenly:
+
+"Do you often hear from your father?"
+
+"Not often. Once in two months, perhaps."
+
+"I suppose you are not what is called a good daughter?"
+
+Constance found the remark rather embarrassing, for it hit a truth of
+which she had been uneasily aware.
+
+"Father and I have not much in common," she replied. "I respect him,
+and I hope he isn't quite without some such feeling for me. But we go
+such different ways."
+
+"Does he believe what he pretends to?"
+
+"He has never made any pretences at all, Lady Ogram. That's his
+character, and I try to think that it's mine too."
+
+"Well, well," exclaimed the old lady, "I suppose you're not going to
+quarrel with me because I ask a simple question? You have a touchy
+temper, you know. If I had had a temper like yours, I should have very
+few friends at my age."
+
+Constance averted her eyes, and said gravely:
+
+"I try to correct myself by your example."
+
+"You might do worse. By the bye--if you won't snap my nose off--I
+suppose your father isn't very well to do?"
+
+"He's very poor. Such men always are."
+
+Lady Ogram lay back and mused. She had no affection for Constance, yet
+felt more kindly disposed to her than to any other girl or woman she
+knew. Consciously or not, she had come to feel a likeness between her
+own mind and that of the clergyman's daughter; she interpreted
+Constance's thoughts by her own. Indeed, there was a certain
+resemblance, both mental and moral. In one regard it showed itself
+strikingly--the contempt for their own sex which was natural to both.
+As a mere consequence of her birth, Arabella Tomalin had despised and
+distrusted womanhood; the sentiment is all but universal in low-born
+girls. Advancing in civilisation, she retained this instinct, and
+confirmed the habit of mind by results of her experience; having always
+sought for meanness and incapacity in the female world, she naturally
+had found a great deal of it. By another way, Constance Bride had
+arrived at very much the same results; she made no friends among women,
+and desired none. Lady Ogram and she agreed in their disdain for all
+"woman" movements; what progress they aimed at concerned the race at
+large, with merely a slighting glance towards the special circumstances
+of its sex-burdened moiety. Moreover, the time-worn woman perceived in
+her young associate a personal ambition which she read by the light of
+her own past. She divined in Constance a hunger for things at once
+substantial and brilliant, a smouldering revolt against poverty and
+dependence. Not for the first time did she remark and study such a
+disposition; the symptoms were very well known to Lady Ogram; but never
+before had she met it in combination with genuine ability and other
+characteristics which she held in esteem.
+
+"Let us talk about our coming man," were her next words.
+
+They talked of Dyce Lashmar.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+It was natural that Lady Ogram should from the beginning have suspected
+Miss Bride of a peculiar interest in Lashmar. When first she introduced
+her friend's name, Constance a little exaggerated the tone of
+impartiality, and in subsequent conversation she was never quite
+herself on this topic. Evidently she thought of the young man more
+often than she cared to have it known; a sort of subdued irritation now
+and then betrayed itself in her when she assented to a favourable
+comment regarding him, and a certain suspense of judgment--quite unlike
+her familiar attitude of mind--always marked her agreement in hopes for
+his future. The old woman of the world interpreted this by her own
+lights. At moments it vexed her, for she did not like to be mystified;
+at others, it touched a chord of sympathy in some very obscure corner
+of her being. And, as no practical problem could be put before her
+without her wishing to solve it autocratically, Lady Ogram soon formed
+a project with regard to these two persons, a project which took firmer
+consistence, and pleased her more, the more she pondered it.
+
+On the appointed day, Lashmar arrived at Rivenoak. He was allowed to
+spend an hour in reposeful solitude ere being admitted to his hostess's
+presence. Conducted at length to the green drawing-room, he found Lady
+Ogram alone. She scrutinised him with friendly but searching eye, gave
+him her hand, and bade him be seated near her.
+
+"I have another visitor coming from London to-day; an old friend of
+mine, Mrs. Toplady."
+
+Where had Dyce heard that name? Somewhere, certainly. He tried hard to
+remember, but without success.
+
+"I think you will like her," pursued Lady Ogram, "and she will perhaps
+be useful to you. She likes to know everybody who is, or is going to
+be, somebody. She'll ask you, no doubt, to her house in Pont Street,
+where you'll meet a great many fools and some reasonable people. She
+herself, I may tell you, is no fool, but she has a good deal more
+patience with that sort than I ever had, and so, of course, has many
+more friends. She's what they call a leader of Society, yet she doesn't
+grudge leaving London for a day or two in the beginning of the Season
+to do me a service."
+
+"I seem to know her name," said Dyce.
+
+"Of course you do, if you ever read about what Society is doing."
+
+Lady Ogram always uttered the word with a contemptuous lip, but plainly
+she did not dislike to have it understood that Society, in certain of
+its representatives, took respectful account of her.
+
+"And now," she continued, "I want to tell you about some other friends
+of mine you're to meet at dinner tomorrow. Most of them belong to
+Hollingford, and you will have to know them."
+
+Very pungently did she sketch these personages. When her listener
+showed amusement, Lady Ogram was pleased; if he seemed to find the
+picture too entertaining, she added--"But he--or she--is not a fool,
+remember that." So did the talk go on, until a servant entered to
+announce the arrival of Mrs. Toplady, who had gone to her room, and,
+being rather tired, would rest there till dinner-time.
+
+"Where is Miss Bride?" asked Lady Ogram.
+
+"Miss Bride has just returned from Hollingford, my lady."
+
+"I remember," said the hostess to her guest. "She had an appointment
+with Mrs. Gallantry, who has her eye on a house for the
+training-school. I suppose we must set the thing going; there's no harm
+in it."
+
+Constance entered in a few minutes, greeted Lashmar as if she saw him
+every day, and began to talk about Mrs. Gallantry's project.
+
+When, a couple of hours later, Dyce came down dressed for dinner, Mrs.
+Toplady was already in the drawing-room. He heard her voice, a
+well-modulated contralto which held the ear, and, looking in that
+direction, saw a tall, dark-robed woman, of middle age, with a thin
+face, its lines rather harsh, but in general effect handsome, and a
+warm complexion, brightly red upon the prominent cheek-bones. Jewelry
+sparkled in her hair, from her white throat, and on her fingers. As
+Lashmar came forward, she finished what she was saying, and turned her
+eyes upon him with expectant interest; a smile at the corner of her
+lips had a certain mischievousness, quite good-humoured but a little
+perturbing to one who encountered it, together with the direct dark
+gaze, for the first time. Introduction having been performed with Lady
+Ogram's wonted carelessness, Mrs. Toplady said at once:
+
+"I know a friend of yours, Mr. Lashmar,--Mrs. Woolstan. Perhaps she has
+spoken to you of me?"
+
+"She has," Dyce replied, remembering now that it was from Mrs. Woolstan
+he had heard her name.
+
+"Why, how's that?" exclaimed the hostess. "You never told me about it,
+Mr. Lashmar."
+
+Dyce had much ado to conceal his annoyed embarrassment. He wondered
+whether Mrs. Woolstan had made known the fact of his tutorship, which
+he did not care to publish, preferring to represent himself as having
+always held an independent position. With momentary awkwardness he
+explained that Mrs. Toplady's name had but once casually passed Mrs.
+Woolstan's Tips in his hearing, and that till now he had forgotten the
+circumstance.
+
+"I saw her yesterday," said the lady of the roguish lips. "She's in
+trouble about parting with her little boy--just been sent to school."
+
+"Ah--yes."
+
+"Very sweet face, hasn't she? Is the child like her? I never saw
+him--perhaps you never did, either?"
+
+Mrs. Toplady had a habit, not of looking steadily at an interlocutor,
+but of casting a succession of quick glances, which seemed to the
+person thus inspected much more searching than a fixed gaze. Though
+vastly relieved by the assurance that Mrs. Woolstan had used discretion
+concerning him, Dyce could not become at ease under that restless look:
+he felt himself gauged and registered, though with what result was by
+no means discernible in Mrs. Toplady's countenance. Those eyes of hers
+must have gauged a vast variety of men; her forehead told of experience
+and meditation thereon. Of all the women he could remember, she
+impressed him as the least manageable according to his method. Compared
+with her, Lady Ogram seemed mere ingenuousness and tractability.
+
+"And, pray, _who_ is Mrs. Woolstan?" the hostess was asking, with a
+rather dry insistence.
+
+"A charming little woman," replied Mrs. Toplady, sincerity in look and
+voice. "I knew her before her marriage, which perhaps was not
+quite--but the poor man is dead. A sister of hers married into my
+husband's family. She plays beautifully, an exquisite touch."
+
+They were summoned to dinner. At table it was Mrs. Toplady who led the
+conversation, but in such a way as to assume no undue prominence,
+rather she seemed to be all attention to other talk, and, her smile
+notwithstanding, to listen with the most open-minded interest to
+whatever was said. Her manner to Lady Ogram was marked with deference,
+at times with something like affectionate gentleness; to Miss Bride she
+paid the compliment of amiable gravity; and towards Lashmar she could
+not have borne herself more respectfully--at all events in language--if
+he had been a member of the Cabinet; every word which fell from him she
+found suggestive, illuminative, and seemed to treasure it in her mind.
+After dinner, Dyce received from her his cue for drawing-room oratory;
+he was led into large discourse, and Mrs. Toplady's eyes beamed the
+most intelligent sympathy. None the less did roguery still lurk at the
+corner of her lips, so that from time to time the philosopher fidgeted
+a little, and asked himself uneasily what that smile meant.
+
+At nine o'clock next morning, Lashmar and Constance sat down to
+breakfast alone. Mrs. Toplady rarely showed herself much before noon.
+
+"If the sky clears," said Constance, "Lady Ogram will drive at eleven,
+and you are invited to accompany her."
+
+"And you?" asked Dyce.
+
+"I have work for two or three hours."
+
+Lashmar chipped at an egg, a thoughtful smile upon his countenance.
+
+"Can you tell me anything about Mrs. Toplady?" he inquired.
+
+"Only what I have heard from Lady Ogram."
+
+Constance sketched a biography. The lady had been twice married, first
+in early youth to a man who had nothing, and who became phthisical;
+during his illness they suffered from dire poverty and, at her
+husband's death, the penniless widow received great kindness from Lady
+Ogram, whose acquaintance she had made accidentally. Two years
+afterwards, she married a northern manufacturer of more than twice her
+age; an instance (remarked Miss Bride) of natural reaction. It chanced
+that a Royal Personage, on a certain public occasion, became the guest
+of the manufacturer, who had local dignities; and so well did Mrs.
+Toplady play her part of hostess that Royalty deigned to count her
+henceforth among its friends. Her husband would have received a title,
+but an inopportune malady cut short his life. A daughter of the first
+marriage still lived; she had wedded into the army, and was little
+heard of. Mrs. Toplady, a widow unattached, took her ease in the world.
+
+"She has seven or eight thousand a year," said Constance, "and spends
+it all on herself. Naturally, she is a very polished and ornamental
+person."
+
+"Something more than that, I fancy," returned Dyce, musing.
+
+"Oh, as Lady Ogram would say, she is not a fool."
+
+Dyce smiled, and let the topic pass. He was enjoying his breakfast,
+and, under this genial influence, presently felt moved to intimate
+speech.
+
+"You live very comfortably here, don't you? You have no objection on
+principle to this kind of thing?"--his waving hand indicated the
+well-spread table.
+
+"I? Certainly not. Why should I object to civilisation?"
+
+"I'm not quite sure that I have got at your point of view yet,"
+answered Dyce, good-humouredly. "You know mine. The tools to him who
+can use them. A breakfast such as this puts us at an advantage over the
+poorer world for the rest of the day. But the advantage isn't stolen.
+How came we here? Is it merely the cost of the railway ticket that
+transports me from my rasher in a London lodging to reindeer's tongue
+and so on in the breakfast-room at Rivenoak? I fancy not."
+
+He paused. Was it wise to hint before Constance that he had lived
+rather poorly? He hoped, and believed, that she knew nothing definite
+as to his circumstances.
+
+"Why, no," she assented, with a smile. "I, for example, have perhaps
+some part in it."
+
+Dyce gazed at her, surprised at this frankness.
+
+"You certainly have. And it reminds me that I may seem very ungrateful;
+I have hardly said 'thank you.' Shake hands, and believe that I am
+_not_ ungrateful."
+
+She hesitated. Not till the hand had been extended to her for an
+appreciable moment, did she give her own. In doing so, she wore a hard
+smile.
+
+"So, this evening," went on Dyce, "I meet my supporters. Lady Ogram
+gave me an account of them yesterday. Tell me what you think. May I be
+myself with these people? Or must I talk twaddle. I dislike twaddle, as
+you know, but I don't want to spoil my chances. You understand how I
+look at this business? My object in life is to gain influence, that I
+may spread my views. Parliament, I take it, is the best means.
+Considering the nature of the average elector, I don't think one need
+worry about the method one pursues to get elected. I won't tell lies;
+that goes against the grain with me. But I must be practical."
+
+Constance watched him, and seemed to weigh his remarks.
+
+"As for twaddle," she said, "I shouldn't advise much of it in Mrs.
+Toplady's hearing."
+
+"You are right. That would never do. I suppose that woman may be of
+real use to me?"
+
+"Yes, I think so," replied Constance, seriously. "You are of course
+aware that a man doesn't become parliamentary candidate by just walking
+into a town and saying--'Behold me! Your votes!' There is such a thing
+as party organisation."
+
+Dyce looked at her with involuntary respect. He reminded himself that
+"twaddle" was as little likely to have weight with Miss Bride as with
+Mrs. Toplady.
+
+"She knows political people?" he asked.
+
+"She knows everybody--or can know. I confess I don't understand why. In
+any case, it'll be well for yon to have her good word. Lady Ogram can
+do a good deal, here, but I'm not sure that she could make your
+acceptance by the Liberals a certain thing."
+
+"Of course I have thought of that," said Dyce. Then, fearing he had
+spoken in too off-hand a way, he added graciously, "I needn't say that
+I regard your advice as valuable. I shall often ask for it."
+
+Constance was mute.
+
+"I suppose I may take it for granted that you wish for my success?"
+
+"To be sure. I wish for it because Lady Ogram does."
+
+Dyce felt inclined to object to this, but Constance's face did not
+invite to further talk on the point.
+
+"At all events," he continued, "it seems no other candidate has been
+spoken of. The party isn't sanguine; they look upon Robb as an
+unassailable; _sedet in aeter-numque sedebit_. But we shall see about
+it. Presently I should like to talk over practical details with you. I
+suppose I call myself Unionist? These questions of day-to-day politics,
+how paltry they are! Strange that people can get excited about them. I
+shall have to look on it as a game, and amuse myself for certain hours
+of the day--a relaxation from thought and work. You haven't told me, by
+the bye, what you think of my bio-sociological system."
+
+"I've been considering it. How was it suggested to you?"
+
+Constance asked the question so directly, and with so keen a look, that
+she all but disconcerted the philosopher.
+
+"Oh, it grew out of my reading and observation grew bit by bit--no
+armed Pallas leaping to sudden life--"
+
+"You have worked it out pretty thoroughly."
+
+"In outline, yes."
+
+Dyce read the newspapers, and walked a little in the garden. Punctually
+at eleven, Lady Ogram descended. The carriage was at the door.
+
+This stately drive, alone with the autocrat of Rivenoak, animated the
+young man. He felt that the days of his insignificance were over, that
+his career--the career so often talked about--had really begun. A
+delightful surprise gave piquancy to his sensations; had he cared to
+tell himself the truth, he would have known that, whatever his
+self-esteem, he had never quite believed in the brilliant future of
+which he liked to dream. It is one thing to merit advancement, quite
+another to secure it. Yet here he was, driving with a great lady, his
+friend, his admirer; driving towards the excitement of political
+contest, perhaps towards a seat in Parliament, and who could say what
+subsequent distinctions. Lady Ogram was not the woman to aid
+half-heartedly where her feelings were interested. Pretty surely he
+could count upon large support, so long as he did not disappoint his
+benefactress. For the present he had no anxieties--thanks to another
+woman, of whom, in truth, he thought scarcely once in twenty-four
+hours. He lived at ease; his faculties were expanding under this genial
+sunshine of prosperity. Even in aspect he was a man of more importance
+than a few weeks ago; his cheeks had coloured, his eyes rested with a
+new dignity on all they saw.
+
+They returned, and as Lady Ogram was entering the hall, a servant made
+a respectful announcement.
+
+"Mr. Kerchever is here, my lady."
+
+"Mr. Kerchever? Indeed?"
+
+With an unusually quick step, the old lady moved towards the library.
+There, occupied with a newspaper, sat a man whose fifty years still
+represented the prime of life, a tall, athletically-built man, his
+complexion that of a schoolboy after summer holidays, his brown hair
+abundant and crisp, spring and stay declared in every muscle of his
+limbs and frame. Lightly he arose, gracefully he swung forward, with
+the bow and smile of one who knows not constraint. Mr. Kerchever
+followed the law, but he also, whenever a chance offered, followed the
+hounds, and with more gusto. At school and University he had won palms;
+that his place in academic lists was less glorious mattered little to
+one who had a comfortable seat awaiting him in the paternal office.
+
+"And what brings you here?" asked Lady Ogram, unable to subdue an
+agitation which confused her utterance.
+
+"I have made a discovery which will interest you," replied Mr.
+Kerchever, in a voice which sounded very strong and melodious by
+contrast.
+
+"What is it? Don't keep me waiting."
+
+"I have found a grand-daughter of your brother Joseph Tomalin."
+
+The listener drew a deep, tremulous sigh.
+
+"Can't you go on?" she exclaimed, thickly, just as the lawyer was
+resuming.
+
+"I'll tell you how I came upon her track--"
+
+"I don't care anything about that!" cried the old lady, with violent
+irritation. "_What_ is she? _Where_ is she?"
+
+"Miss May Tomalin is twenty-five years old. Her parents are dead. She
+lives with relatives of her mother in the town of Northampton. She has
+been well educated, well brought up altogether, and has a little
+income--about a hundred a year."
+
+Again Lady Ogram drew a deep breath. Her face was hotly flushed; her
+hands trembled; a great joy shone from the transformed countenance.
+
+"Thank goodness!" broke from her hoarsely. "Thank goodness!" Then, with
+sudden alarm, "I suppose you're making no idiotic mistake?"
+
+"That kind of mistake, Lady Ogram," responded Mr. Kerchever with a
+tolerant motion of the eyebrows, "is not quite in my way. Indeed, I'm
+not in the habit of making mistakes of any kind. You may be sure I have
+taken every precaution before coming here with such news as this."
+
+"All right! What are you angry about? Lawyers and doctors and
+parsons--there's no talking with them, they're so touchy. Can't you go
+on? Here's a girl falls out of the clouds, and I'm to show no curiosity
+about her! You drive me crazy with your roundabout nonsense. Go _on_,
+can't you!"
+
+Mr. Kerchever eyed his client curiously. He was not offended, for he
+had known Lady Ogram long, and had received traditions regarding her
+from a time before he was born; but he could not help being struck just
+now with her face and manner; they made him uneasy.
+
+"I will tell you everything forthwith," he resumed, "but I must beg you
+to control yourself, Lady Ogram. I do so out of regard for your health.
+Emotion is natural, but, now that you know the news is all good, your
+excellent sense should tranquillise you. Pray let us talk quietly."
+
+Lady Ogram glanced at him, but nodded acquiescence.
+
+"I'm as cool as you are. Talk as much as you like."
+
+"A few days ago I had occasion to look through the lists of a London
+University Calendar. My eye fell on the name Tomalin, and of course I
+was interested. May Tomalin matriculated at London three years ago. I
+could find no further record of her, but inquiries were easy, and they
+guided me to Northampton. There I made the acquaintance of a Mr. Rooke,
+a manufacturer, in whose house Miss Tomalin is resident, and has been
+for a good many years; to be precise, since she was nine years old.
+Without trouble I discovered the girl's history. Her grandfather,
+Joseph Tomalin, died in Canada forty-seven years ago--"
+
+"How do you know it was Jo--my brother?" asked the listener, sharply.
+
+"All these things you can follow out for yourself in detail in the
+papers I will leave with you. This Joseph had a brother Thomas, and his
+age corresponds very well with that of your own brother Joseph. Thomas
+Tomalin has left no trace, except the memory of his name preserved by
+the wife of Joseph, and handed on to her son, who, in turn, spoke of
+Thomas to his wife, who has been heard by Mrs. Rooke (her sister) to
+mention that fact in the family history. What is more, I find a vague
+tradition that a sister of Joseph and Thomas made a brilliant marriage."
+
+"How is it that your advertisements were never seen by these
+people--these Rookes?"
+
+"So it happened, that's all one can say. I have known many such
+failures. May Tomalin was born at Toronto, where he? father, also a
+Joseph, died in '80. Her mother, an Englishwoman, came back to England
+in '81, bringing May, the only child; she settled at Northampton, and,
+on her death in the following year, May passed into the care of the
+Rookes. She has no surviving relative of her own name. Her father, a
+builder, left a little money, which now provides the young lady with
+her income."
+
+Prom a state of choleric flurry Lady Ogram was passing into irritable
+delight.
+
+"Better late than never," she exclaimed, "but I can't see why you
+didn't find the girl ages ago. Haven't you advertised in Canada?"
+
+"No. We knew that your brothers went to Australia. Thomas, no doubt,
+died there. The story of Joseph's wanderings is irrecoverable; we must
+be content to have satisfactory evidence of his death, and of this
+girl's descent from him."
+
+"Well, and why haven't you brought her?"
+
+"I saw no need for such precipitancy. Miss Tomalin has not yet been
+informed of what is going on. Of course, she is her own mistress, free
+to accept any invitation that may be offered her. The Rookes seem to be
+quiet people, in easy circumstances; no trouble of any kind is to be
+feared from them. You may act at your leisure. Here is the address. Of
+course if you would like me to return to Northampton--"
+
+"She must come at once!" said Lady Ogram, starting up. "Would the Crows
+understand a telegram?"
+
+"The Rookes, you mean? I think it would be better to write. Naturally,
+I have not let them know your name. At first I found Mr. Rooke rather
+disposed to stand upon his dignity; but a firm of Northampton
+solicitors vouched for my _bona fides_, and then things were smoother.
+No, I don't think I would telegraph."
+
+"Then go to Northampton, and bring the girl back with you."
+
+"If you wish it."
+
+"When is there a train?--Oh, there's the luncheon bell. Of course you
+must eat. Come and eat. I have some one staying here that I should like
+you to know our Liberal candidate at the next election."
+
+"Oh, so you have found one?"
+
+"Of course I have. Didn't I write to tell you? A lot of people dine
+here this evening to meet him. Perhaps you could stay over night? Yes,
+now I come to think of it, I should like you to dine with us. You shall
+go to Northampton to-morrow. Write to Rooky this afternoon." Lady Ogram
+grew sportive. "Prepare him. Come along, now, to lunch; you look
+hungry."
+
+"Just one word. You are quite sure it will be wise to bring this young
+lady at once to Rivenoak?"
+
+"You say she knows how to behave herself!"
+
+"Certainly. But the change in her position will be rather sudden, don't
+you think? And--if I may venture--how can you be sure that Miss Tomalin
+will recommend herself to you?"
+
+"Isn't she of my own blood?" cried Lady Ogram, in a high croak of
+exasperation. "Isn't she my brother's grandchild--the only creature of
+my own blood living?"
+
+"I merely urge a little prudence--"
+
+"Is the girl a fool?"
+
+"I have no reason to think so. But she has led a quiet, provincial
+life--"
+
+"Come and eat!" cried Lady Ogram. "We'll talk again afterwards."
+
+Mrs. Toplady joined them in the dining-room, as she seated herself.
+"Everybody's late to-day. Mr. Kerchever--Mr. Lashmar I want you to know
+each other. Mr. Lashmar, what have you been doing all the morning? Why,
+of course you had a drive with me--I had forgot ten! Do sit down and
+let us eat. If everyone's as hungry as I am!"
+
+For all that, she satisfied her appetite with one or two mouthfuls, and
+talked on in a joyously excited strain, to the astonishment of
+Constance, who saw that Mr. Kerchever must have brought some very
+important news. Lashmar, also exhilarated, kept up conversation with
+Mrs. Toplady. It was a vivacious company, Miss Bride being the only
+person who spoke little. She was commonly silent amid general talk, but
+her eyes travelled from face to face, reading, commenting.
+
+Mr. Kerchever consented to stay over night. In the afternoon he had a
+stroll with Lashmar, but they did not much enjoy each other's society;
+Dyce took no interest whatever in sports or games, and the athletic
+lawyer understood by politics a recurring tussle between two parties,
+neither of which had it in its power to do much good or harm to the
+country; of philosophy and science (other than that of boxing) he knew
+about as much as the woman who swept his office. Privately, Mr.
+Kerchever opined that this young man was a conceited pedant, who stood
+no chance whatever of being elected to Parliament. When questioned by
+Lady Ogram, he inquired whether Mr. Lashmar had means.
+
+"Oh, he has money enough," was the careless answer. "But its his brains
+that we count upon."
+
+"I never heard they went for muck in politics," said Mr. Kerchever.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The dinner went off very well indeed.
+
+It was not merely her animus against Mr. Robb which supported Lady
+Ogram's belief in the future of the Liberals at Hollingford. A certain
+restiveness could be noted in the public mind, heretofore so obedient
+to the long Tory tradition. Mr. Breakspeare's paper certainly had an
+increasing sale, and an attention to Mr. Robb in public gatherings
+other than political was not so sure of cordial response as formerly.
+This might only imply a personal dissatisfaction with the borough's
+representative, who of late had been very visibly fossilising; it would
+be difficult to explain a marked reaction in Hollingford against the
+tendencies of the country at large. Still, a number of more or less
+active and intelligent persons had begun to talk of contesting the Tory
+seat, and with these the lady at Rivenoak held active communication.
+They gathered about her this evening; enjoyed the excellent meal
+provided for them; inspected Mr. Dyce Lashmar, and listened attentively
+even to his casual remarks. Mr. Lashmar might or might not prove to be
+the candidate of their choice; there was plenty of time to think about
+that; in the meantime, no one more suitable stood before them, and,
+having regard to Lady Ogram's social authority, considerable from one
+point of view, they were very willing to interest themselves in a man
+of whom she thought so highly. Very little was definitely known about
+him. He was understood to be a gentleman of means and erudite leisure,
+nor did his appearance conflict with this description. Now and then
+Dyce's talk had an impressive quality; he spoke for the most part in
+brief, pregnant sentences, which seemed the outcome of solid thought
+and no little experience. Constance Bride, observing him studiously,
+often admired his grave, yet easy, bearing, his facile, yet never
+careless speech. Herself in doubt as to his real weight, whether as man
+or politician, she carefully watched the impression he produced on
+others; on the whole it seemed to be favourable, and once or twice she
+caught a remark decidedly eulogistic. This pleased her. Like everybody
+else this evening, she was in good spirits.
+
+Mrs. Toplady, much observed and courted, but seemingly quite
+indifferent to homage, watched the scene with her eyes of placid
+good-humour, the roguish smile ever and again appearing on her lips.
+She lost no opportunity of letting fall a laudatory word concerning
+Dyce Lashmar. Her demeanour with humdrum persons was courteous
+amiability almost in excess; to the more intelligent she behaved with a
+humourous frankness which was very captivating. At a certain moment of
+the evening, she found occasion to sit down by Constance Bride, and
+Constance would have been more than human had she altogether resisted
+the charm of that fine contralto modulating graceful compliments. Mrs.
+Toplady had read the report of the social work at Shawe; it interested
+her keenly; she could not sufficiently admire the philanthropic energy
+which had been put into this undertaking--in so great a part, as she
+heard, due to Miss Bride's suggestions.
+
+"I am glad to hear from Lady Ogram," she said, "that there is a
+probability of your being in town before long. If so, I hope you will
+let me have a long talk with you, about all sorts of things. One of
+them, of course, must be Mr. Lashmar's candidature."
+
+Saying this, Mrs. Toplady beamed with kindness. Constance noted the
+words and the look for future reflection. At this moment, she was
+occupied with the news that Lady Ogram thought of going to London, no
+hint of any such intention having before this reached her ear.
+
+In the course of the afternoon, Lady Ogram had held private colloquy
+with her guest from the brilliant world, a conversation more intimate
+on her part than any that had ever passed between them. Such expansion
+was absolutely necessary to the agitated old lady, and she deemed it
+good fortune that a confidante in whom she put so much trust chanced to
+be near her. Speaking of Lashmar, she mentioned his acquaintance with
+Lord Dymchurch, and inquired whether Mrs. Toplady knew that modest peer.
+
+"He is only a name to me," was the reply, "and I should rather like to
+see him in the flesh. Mr. Lashmar must bring him to Pont Street--if he
+can."
+
+"That's what I'm a little doubtful about," said Lady Ogram. "I have
+been thinking it might help us if a real live lord casually walked
+about Hollingford with our candidate. We have to use means, you know."
+
+The old lady grimaced her scorn, and the leader of Society smiled. One
+thing Mrs. Toplady had learnt which interested her, that her autocratic
+friend's faith in Dyce Lashmar as a "coming man" was unaffected and
+sturdy. She mused upon this. Rivenoak had often supplied entertainment
+to her sportive mind; now, as shadows of night were gathering over it,
+there seemed to be preparing in this corner of the human stage a
+spectacle of unforeseen piquancy.
+
+Also with Mr. Kerchever the old lady had had an afternoon's talk. Her
+emotion being now more under command, she could listen to the
+solicitor's advice, which dissuaded from abrupt action with reference
+to Miss Tomalin. Mr. Kerchever thought it would be unwise to reveal all
+the interest she felt in this late-discovered representative of her
+family. Had he not better write to Mr. Rooke, saying that his client, a
+widowed lady living at her country house, hoped to have the pleasure of
+making her young relative's acquaintance, and would shortly address a
+letter to Miss Tomalin? This course finally met with Lady Ogram's
+approval; she agreed to let a week pass before taking the next step.
+
+Whatever the ultimate effect of her joyous agitation, for the present
+it seemed to do her nothing but good. She walked with lighter step,
+bore herself as though she had thrown off years, and, all through the
+evening, was a marvel of untiring graciousness and cordiality. The
+reaction came when she found herself at liberty to feel weary, but no
+eye save that of the confidential maid beheld her collapse. Even whilst
+being undressed like a helpless infant, the old lady did not lose her
+temper. Even whilst gulping an unpleasant draught, well aware that she
+was not likely to sleep until dawn, if then, she smiled at her
+thoughts. The maid wondered what it all meant.
+
+Dyce Lashmar was abundantly satisfied with himself. "Am I doing it
+well?" he quietly asked of Constance, somewhere about ten o'clock, and
+on receiving the reply, "Very well," he gave his friend a more
+benignant smile than he had bestowed upon her since the old days of
+semi-sentimental intimacy. He would much have liked to talk over the
+evening with her before he went to bed; as that was impossible, he
+pressed her hand very warmly at leave-taking, looking her steadily in
+the eyes, and said in a low voice.
+
+"To-morrow."
+
+He was greatly satisfied with himself, and, in consequence, felt
+overflowing with kindliness towards all the sons and daughters of men.
+One by one he reviewed the persons with whom he had conversed. How
+pleasant they were! How sensible and well-meaning! What excellent
+material for the formation of a really civilised State? They had
+evidently been impressed with him, and, on going home, would make him
+the subject of their talk. To-morrow his name would sound frequently in
+several houses, always with complimentary adjunct. The thought made his
+pulses throb. To be talked of, to be admired, was the strongest
+incentive known to him.
+
+Of Lady Ogram he thought with positive affection; to the end of his
+life he would revere her memory. Constance Bride he esteemed as a loyal
+friend; never would he fail in gratitude to her; she should have his
+confidence, and he would often seek her counsel; a good, able girl of
+the best modern type. Last of all there came into his mind the visage
+of a small, impulsive woman, with freckled oval face, and hair the
+colour of an autumn elm-leaf, Iris Woolstan; to her, too, how much he
+was beholden. Good, foolish, fidgetty Iris Woolstan! Never again could
+he be impatient with her. Of course he must pay back her money as soon
+as possible. Brave little creature, light-heartedly sending him her
+cheque for three hundred pounds; why, there was something heroic in it.
+Yes, he acknowledged himself lucky in his woman friends; few men could
+be so fortunate. To be sure, it was the result of his rational views,
+of his straightforward, honest method. He saw his way to do noble
+service in the cause of womanhood, and that by following the path of
+mere common sense--all sentimental and so-called chivalrous humbug cast
+aside, all exaggerated new conceptions simply disregarded. His bosom
+swelled with glorious faith in his own future and in that of the world.
+
+Among the guests had figured Mr. Breakspeare, looking a trifle fresher
+than usual in his clean linen and ceremonial black. Hearing that
+Lashmar was to spend a couple of days more at Rivenoak, he asked him to
+dine on the following evening, Lady Ogram readily permitting the
+invitation.
+
+"I say dine; sup would be the better word, for I can offer you only
+simple entertainment. We shall be alone; I want the full advantage of
+your talk. Afterwards, if you approve, we will look in upon an old
+friend of mine who would have great satisfaction in exchanging ideas
+with you. Something of an original; at all events you will find him
+amusing."
+
+To this relaxation Dyce looked forward with pleasure. Nearly the whole
+of the next day he spent in solitude; for Lady Ogram did not appear
+until the afternoon, and then only for an hour. Mrs. Toplady took her
+leave before mid-day. Miss Bride showed herself only at breakfast and
+luncheon, when she was friendly, indeed, but not much disposed for
+talk. Dyce had anticipated a growth of intimacy with Constance; he was
+prepared for long, confidential gossip in the library or the garden;
+but his friend briefly excused herself. She had a lot of reading and
+extracting to do.
+
+"You have told me very little about yourself," he remarked, when she
+rose to withdraw after luncheon.
+
+"What's there to tell?"
+
+"It would interest me to know more of your own thoughts--apart from the
+work you are engaged in."
+
+"Oh, those are strictly for home consumption," said Constance with a
+smile; and went her way.
+
+So Dyce paced the garden by himself, or read newspapers and reviews, or
+lolled indolently in super-comfortable chairs. He had promised to write
+to Mrs. Woolstan, and in the morning said to himself that he would do
+so in the afternoon; but he disliked letter-writing, shrank at all
+times, indeed, from use of the pen, and ultimately the duty was
+postponed till to-morrow. His exertions of the evening before had left
+a sense of fatigue; it was enough to savour the recollection of
+triumph. He mused a little, from time to time, on Constance, whose
+behaviour slightly piqued his curiosity. That she was much occupied
+with the thought of him, he never doubted, but he could not feel quite
+sure of the colour of her reflections--a vexatious incertitude. He
+lazily resolved to bring her to clearer avowal before quitting Rivenoak.
+
+At evening, the coachman drove him to Hollingford, where he alighted at
+Mr. Breakspeare's newspaper office. The editor received him in a large,
+ill-kept, barely furnished room, the floor littered with journals.
+
+"How will that do, Mr. Lashmar?" was his greeting, as he held out a
+printed slip.
+
+Dyce perused a leading article, which, without naming him, contained a
+very flattering sketch of his intellectual personality. So, at least,
+he understood the article, ostensibly a summing of the qualifications
+which should be possessed by an ideal Liberal candidate. Large culture,
+a philosophical grasp of the world's history, a scientific conception
+of human life; again, thorough familiarity with the questions of the
+day, a mind no less acute in the judgment of detail than broad in its
+vision of principles: moreover, genuine sympathy with the aspirations
+of the average man, yet no bias to sentimental weakness; with all this,
+the heaven-sent gift of leadership, power of speech, calm and justified
+self-confidence. Lashmar's face beamed as he recognised each trait.
+Breakspeare, the while, regarded him with half-closed eyes in which
+twinkled a world of humour.
+
+"A little too generous, I'm afraid," Dyce remarked at length,
+thoughtfully.
+
+"Not a bit of it!" cried the editor, scratching the tip of his nose,
+where he had somehow caught a spot of ink. "Bald facts; honest
+portraiture. It doesn't displease you?"
+
+"How could it? I only hope I may be recognised by such of your readers
+as have met me."
+
+"You certainly will be. I shall follow this up with a portrait of the
+least acceptable type of Conservative candidate, wherein all will
+recognise our Parliamentary incubus. Thus do we open the great
+campaign! If you would care to, pray keep that proof; some day it may
+amuse you to look at it, and to recall these early days of our
+acquaintance. Now I will take you to my house, which, I need not say,
+you honour by this visit. You are a philosopher, and simplicity will
+not offend you."
+
+They walked along one or two main streets, the journalist, still
+ink-spotted on the nose, nodding now and then to an acquaintance, and
+turned at length into a by-way of dwelling-houses, which did not,
+indeed, suggest opulence, but were roomy and decent. At one of the
+doors, Breakspeare paused, turned the handle, and ushered in his guest.
+
+Almost immediately, Dyce was presented to his hostess, on whose thin
+but pleasant face he perceived with satisfaction a reverential
+interest. Mrs. Breakspeare had few words at her command, and was
+evidently accustomed to be disregarded; she knew that her husband
+admired intellectual women, and that he often privately lamented his
+mistake in marriage; but none the less was she aware that he enjoyed
+the comfort of his home--to her a sufficient recompense. Like many a
+man, Breakspeare would have been quite satisfied with his wife, if, at
+the same time, he could have had another. He heartily approved the
+domestic virtues; it would have exasperated him had the mother of his
+children neglected home duties for any intellectual pursuit; yet, as
+often as he thought of Miss Bride, contemptuous impatience disturbed
+his tranquillity. He desired to unite irreconcilable things. His
+practical safeguard was the humour which, after all, never allowed him
+to take life too seriously.
+
+A boy of sixteen, the eldest of seven children, sat down to table with
+them. Breakspeare made a slight apology for his presence, adding
+genially: "_Meminisse juvabit_." The meal was more than tolerable; the
+guest thoroughly enjoyed himself, talking with as little affectation as
+his nature permitted, and, with a sense of his own graciousness, often
+addressing to Mrs. Breakspeare a remark on the level of her
+intelligence.
+
+"When you come down to Hollingford," said the journalist, "I suppose
+you will generally stay at Lady Ogram's?"
+
+"Possibly," was the reply. "But I think I had better decide which is to
+be my hotel, when I have need of one. Will you advise me in that
+matter?"
+
+Breakspeare recommended the house which Lashmar already knew, and added
+hints concerning the political colour of leading trades-folk. When they
+rose, the host reminded Dyce of his suggestion that they should go and
+see an old friend of his, one Martin Blaydes.
+
+"We shall find him smoking his pipe, with a jug of beer at his elbow.
+Martin is homely, but a man of original ideas, and he will appreciate
+your visit."
+
+So they set forth, and walked for a quarter of an hour towards the
+outskirts of the town. Mr. Blaydes, who held a small municipal office,
+lived alone in a very modest dwelling, his attendant a woman of
+discreet years. As Breakspeare had foretold, he was found sitting by
+the fireside the evening was cool enough to make a fire agreeable a
+churchwarden between his lips, and a brown jug of generous capacity on
+the table beside him. As the door opened, he turned a meditative head,
+and blinked myopically at his visitors before rising. His movements
+were very deliberate; his smile, which had the odd effect of elevating
+one eyebrow and depressing the other, made him look as if he were about
+to sneeze. Not without ceremony, Breakspeare presented his companion,
+whom the old man (his years touched on seventy) greeted in the words of
+Belshazzar to Daniel:
+
+"I have heard of thee, that the spirit of the gods is in thee, and that
+light and wisdom and excellent understanding are found in thee.--Be
+seated, Mr. Lashmar, be seated. Friend Breakspeare, put your toes on
+the fender. Mr. Lashmar, my drink is ale; an honest tap which I have
+drunk for some three score years, and which never did me harm. Will you
+join me?"
+
+"With pleasure, Mr. Blaydes."
+
+A touch upon the bell summoned the serving woman.
+
+"Mrs. Ricketts, another jug of the right amber, and two beakers. I know
+not if you smoke, Mr. Lashmar?--Why, that's right. Two yards of
+Broseley also, Mrs. Ricketts."
+
+Breakspeare had produced his pouch, which he opened and held to Martin.
+
+"Here's a new mixture, my own blending, which I should like you to try.
+I see your pipe is empty."
+
+"Gramercy," replied the other, with a wave of the hand. "I stick to my
+own mundungus; any novelty disturbs my thoughts. Offer it to Mr.
+Lashmar, who might find this weed of mine a trifle rank.--Here comes
+the jug. What say you to that for a head, Mr. Lashmar? A new
+nine-gallon, tapped before breakfast this morning, now running clear
+and cool as a mountain burn. What would life be without this? Elsewhere
+our ale degenerates; not many honest brewers are left. Druggist's wine
+and the fire of the distilleries will wreck our people. Whenever you
+have a chance, Mr. Lashmar, speak a word for honest ale. Time enough is
+wasted at Westminster; they may well listen to a plea for the source of
+all right-feeling and right-thinking--amber ale."
+
+Dyce soon understood that here, at all events, he was not called upon
+for eloquence, or disquisition. Martin Blaydes had become rather dull
+of car, and found it convenient to do most of the talking himself. Now
+and then he turned his sneeze-menacing smile this way or that, and a
+remark always claimed his courteous attention, but in general his eyes
+were fixed on the glow of the fireplace, 'whilst he pursued a humorous
+ramble from thought to thought, topic to topic. Evidently of local
+politics he knew nothing and recked not at all; he seemed to take for
+granted that Lashmar was about to sit in Parliament for Hollingford,
+and that the young man represented lofty principles rarely combined
+with public ambition.
+
+"You may do something; I don't know, I don't know. Things are bad, I
+fear, and likely to be worse. We had hopes, Mr. Lashmar, when the world
+and I were young. In those days there was such a thing as zeal for
+progress and progress didn't necessarily mean money. You know my view
+of the matter, friend Breakspeare. Two causes explain the pass we've
+come to--the power of women and the tyranny of finance. How does that
+touch you, Mr. Lashmar?"
+
+"Finance yes," Dyce replied. "It's the curse of the modern world. But
+women?"
+
+"Yes, yes, the 'monstrous regiment of women,' as the old writer hath
+it. Look at the diseases from which we are suffering--materialism and
+hysteria. The one has been intensified and extended, the other has
+newly declared itself, since women came to the front. No materialist
+like a woman; give her a voice in the control of things, and good-bye
+to all our ideals. Hard cash, military glory, glittering and clanging
+triumph--these be the gods of a woman's heart. Thought and talk drowned
+by a scream; nerves worried into fiddle-strings. We had our vain
+illusion; we were generous in our manly way. Open the door! Let the
+women come forth and breathe fresh air! Justice for wives, an open
+field for those who will not or cannot wed! We meant well, but it was a
+letting out of the waters. There's your idle lady with the pretty face,
+who wants to make laws for the amusement of breaking them. 'As a jewel
+of gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman without discretion.'
+There's your hard-featured woman who thinks that nobody in the world
+but she has brains. And our homes are tumbling about our heads, because
+there's no one to look after them. 'One man among a thousand have I
+found, but a woman among all those have I not found.' Back with them to
+nursery and kitchen, pantry and herb-garden! Back with them, or we
+perish."
+
+Dyce wore a broad smile. He knew that he himself would have spoken thus
+had he not been committed to another way of talking. Breakspeare, too,
+smiled, but with only half-assent; he reserved his bigamous
+alternative. Martin Blaydes took a long draught from his beaker, puffed
+half-a-dozen rings of smoke, and pursued his diatribe in the same
+good-natured growl.
+
+"The fury to get rich--who is so responsible for it as the crowd of
+indolent, luxurious and vain women? The frenzy to become
+notorious--almost entirely women's work. The spirit of reckless
+ambition in public life encouraged by the sex which has never known the
+meaning of responsibility. Decay of the arts--inevitable result of the
+predominance of little fools who never admired anything but art in
+millinery. Revival of delight in manslaying--what woman could ever
+resist a uniform? Let them be; let them be. Why should they spoil our
+ale and tobacco? Friend Breakspeare, how's your wife? Now there, Mr.
+Lashmar, there is a woman such as I honour! 'She will do him good and
+not evil all the days of her life.' A woman of the by-gone day--gentle
+but strong, silent and wise. 'Give her of the fruit of her hands, and
+let her own works praise her in the gates!' Mr. Lashmar, your beaker
+stands empty. So, by the bye, does the jug. Mrs. Ricketts!"
+
+The little room contained many books, mostly old and such as had seen
+long service. As his habit was when a friend sat with him, Mr. Blaydes
+presently reached down a volume, and, on opening it, became aware of a
+passage which sent him into crowing laughter.
+
+"Ha, ha, friend Breakspeare, here's something for thee! Thou art the
+Sophist of our time, and list how the old wise man spoke of thy kind.
+'They do but teach the collective opinion of the many; 'tis their
+wisdom, forsooth. I might liken them to a man who should study the
+temper or the desires of a great strong beast, which he has to keep and
+feed; he learns how to approach and handle the creature, also at what
+times and from what cause it is dangerous, or the reverse; what is the
+meaning of its several cries, and by what sounds it may be soothed or
+infuriated. Furthermore, when, by constantly living with the huge
+brute, he has become perfect in all this, he calls it philosophy, and
+makes a system or art of it, which forthwith he professes. One thing he
+names honourable, another base; this good, that evil; this just, that
+unjust; all in accordance with the tastes and words of the great
+animal, which he has studied from its grunts and snarls.'--Ha, ha,
+friend Breakspeare! Does it touch thee? 'Comes it not something
+near?'--Nay, nay, take it not in dudgeon! 'Tis old Plato who speaks."
+
+"What, I?" cried the journalist, gaily. "I'm infinitely obliged to you.
+The passage shall do me yeoman's service--turned against the enemy. For
+it is not I who speak for the many at Hollingford, as well you know. We
+Liberals are the select, the chosen spirits. The mighty brute is
+Toryism."
+
+Only the fear of reaching Rivenoak at too late an hour constrained
+Lashmar to rise at length and take his leave.
+
+"I hope you will let me come and see you again, Mr. Blaydes," he
+exclaimed heartily, as he grasped the old man's hand.
+
+"Here you will commonly find me, Mr. Lashmar, after eight o'clock, and
+if you bear with my whimsies I shall thank you for your company. This
+ale, I try to believe, will last my time. If a company corrupt it, I
+forswear all fermented liquor, and go to the grave on mere
+element--'honest water which ne'er left man in the mire.' But I hope
+better things--I hops better things."
+
+"And what do you think of Martin?" asked the journalist, as he and
+Lashmar walked to the nearest place where a vehicle could be obtained
+for the drive to Rivenoak.
+
+"A fine old cynic!" answered Dyce. "I hope often to drink ale with him."
+
+"Luckily, it doesn't compromise you. Martin belongs to no party, and
+gives no vote. I could tell you a good story about his reception of a
+canvasser--a lady, by Jove!--at the last election; but I'll keep it
+till we meet again, as you are in a hurry. You have put me in spirits,
+Mr. Lashmar; may it not be long before I next talk with you. Meanwhile,
+I dig the trenches!"
+
+Ale and strong tobacco, to both of which he was unaccustomed, wrought
+confusingly upon Dyce's brain as he was borne through the night. He
+found himself murmuring the name of Constance, and forming a resolve to
+win her to intimacy on the morrow. Yes, he liked Constance after all.
+Then came a memory of Martin Blaydes's diatribe, and he laughed
+approvingly. But Constance was an exception, the best type of modern
+woman. After all, he liked her.
+
+Again they two breakfasted together. Dyce gave a mirthful description
+of his evening, and gaily reported Mr. Blaydes's eloquence on the
+subject of woman.
+
+"On the whole, I agree with him," said Constance. "And I know, of
+course, that you do."
+
+"Indeed? You agree with him?"
+
+"So does every sensible person. But the subject doesn't interest me. I
+hate talk about _women_. We've had enough of it: it has become a
+nuisance--a cant, like any other. A woman is a human being, not a
+separate species."
+
+"Why, of course!" cried Lashmar. "Just what I am always saying."
+
+"Say it no more," interrupted his companion. "There are plenty of other
+things to talk about."
+
+Whereupon, she finished her cup of coffee, nodded a leave-taking, and
+went at a brisk pace from the room. Dyce continued his meal,
+meditative, a trifle wounded in self-esteem.
+
+Later in the morning, he saw Constance wheeling forth her bicycle. He
+ran, and gained her side before she had mounted.
+
+"As you are going out, why shouldn't we have a walk together? Give up
+your ride this morning."
+
+"I'm very sorry I can't," Constance answered, pleasantly. "The exercise
+is necessary for me."
+
+"But just this once--"
+
+"Impossible! The morning is too fine and the roads too good."
+
+She sprang into the saddle, and was off--much to Dyce's mortification.
+He had not dreamt that she could refuse his request. And he had meant
+to talk with such generous confidence, such true comradeship; it was
+even his intention to tell Constance that he looked more for her
+sympathy and aid than for that of anyone else. Surely this would have
+been very gratifying to her; she could not but have thanked him with
+real feeling.
+
+At luncheon, Miss Bride was obviously unrepentant. One would have said
+that it amused her to notice the slight coldness 'which Lashmar put
+into his manner towards her. She had never seemed in better spirits.
+
+In the afternoon Dyce was summoned to a private interview with Lady
+Ogram. It took place in an upstairs room he had not yet entered. His
+hostess sat before a wood-fire (though the day was warm) and her face
+now and then had a look of suffering, but she spoke cheerfully, and in
+a tone of much kindness.
+
+"Well, have you enjoyed your stay with me?--You must come down again
+presently; but, in the meantime, you'll be busy. Go and see Mrs.
+Toplady, and get to know all the useful people you can. We shall be
+working here for you, of course. Miss Bride will keep you posted about
+everything."
+
+The dark eyes, at this moment pain-troubled, were reading his
+countenance.
+
+"I needn't tell you," Lady Ogram continued, "that Miss Bride has my
+entire and perfect confidence. I don't think I'm easily deceived in
+people, and--even before she spoke to me of you--I had made up my mind
+that' in some way or other, she must be given a chance of doing
+something in life. You know all about her ways of thinking--perhaps
+better than I do."
+
+In the pause which followed, Dyce was on the point of disclaiming this
+intimacy; but the drift of Lady Ogram's talk, exciting his curiosity,
+prevailed to keep him silent. He bent his look and smiled modestly.
+
+"She's one of the few women," went on his friend, "who do more than
+they promise. She'll never be what is called brilliant. She won't make
+much of a figure in the drawing-room. But, give her a chance, and
+she'll do things that people will talk about. She has powers of
+organising; I don't know whether you understand how well she is getting
+to be known by serious workers in the social reform way. There's not
+one of them can write such good letters--tell so much in few words. But
+we must give her a chance--you and I together."
+
+Dyce was startled. His smile died away, and, involuntarily, he turned a
+look of surprise on the speaker.
+
+"You mean," said Lady Ogram, as though answering a remonstrance, "that
+you know all about that without my telling you. Don't be touchy; you
+and I can understand each other well enough, if we like. What I want to
+let yon know is, that I consider she has a claim upon me. Not in the
+ordinary sense. Perhaps I'm not quite an ordinary woman, and I see
+things in a way of my own. She has a claim upon me, because she's one
+of the few women who have nothing of the baby or the idiot in them, and
+I've been looking out for that sort all my life. If Constance
+Bride"--the voice became slower, as if for emphasis--"is put into a
+position of trust, she'll do all that is expected of her. There's no
+particular hurry; she's young enough still. And as for you, you've got
+your hands full."
+
+Dyce felt so puzzled that he could not shape a word. One thing was
+growing clear to him; but what did the old woman mean by her "position
+of trust?" How was Constance to be given her "chance?" And what'
+exactly, was she expected to do?
+
+"Well, we've had our talk," said the old lady, moving as if in pain and
+weariness. "Go back to town to-night or to-morrow morning, as you like.
+Write to me, mind, as well as to Miss Bride, and let me know of all the
+acquaintances you make. It's just possible I may be in London myself
+next month; it depends on several things."
+
+She became dreamy. Dyce, though he would have liked to say much, knew
+not how to express himself; it was plain, moreover, that his hostess
+had little strength to-day. He rose.
+
+"I think I shall catch the evening train, Lady Ogram."
+
+"Very well. A pleasant journey!"
+
+She gave her hand, and Dyce thought it felt more skeleton-like than
+ever. Certainly her visage was more cadaverous in line and hue than he
+had yet seen it. Almost before he had turned away, Lady Ogram closed
+her eyes, and lay back with a sigh.
+
+So here were his prospects settled for him! He was to marry Constance
+Bride--under some vague conditions which perturbed him almost as much
+as the thought of the marriage itself. Impossible that he could have
+misunderstood. And how had Lady Ogram hit upon such an idea? It was
+plain as daylight that the suggestion had come from Constance herself.
+Constance had allowed it to be understood that he and she were, either
+formally, or virtually, affianced.
+
+He stood appalled at this revelation in a sphere of knowledge which he
+held to be particularly his own.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+It was a week after the departure of Dyce Lashmar. Lady Ogram had lived
+in agitation, a state which she knew to be the worst possible for her
+health. Several times she had taken long drives to call upon
+acquaintances, a habit suspended during the past twelvemonth; it
+exhausted her, but she affected to believe that the air and movement
+did her good, and met with an outbreak of still more dangerous choler
+the remonstrances which her secretary at length ventured to make. On
+the day following this characteristic scene, Constance was at work in
+the library, when the door opened, and Lady Ogram came in. Walking
+unsteadily, a grim smile on her parchment visage, she advanced and
+stood before the writing-table.
+
+"I made a fool of myself yesterday," sounded in a hollow voice, of
+tremulous intonation. "Is it enough for me to say so?"
+
+"Much more than I like to hear you say, Lady Ogram," answered
+Constance, hastening to place a chair for her. "I have been afraid that
+something had happened which troubled you."
+
+"Nothing at all. The contrary. Look at that photo, and tell me what you
+think of it."
+
+It was the portrait of a girl with features finely outlined, but rather
+weak in expression; a face pleasant to look upon, and at the first
+glance possessing a quality of distinction, which tended however to
+fade as the eye searched for its constituents, and to lose itself in an
+ordinary prettiness.
+
+"I was going to say," began Constance, "that it seemed to remind me
+of--"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"Well? Of what?"
+
+"Of your own portrait in the dining-room. Yes, I think there is a
+resemblance, though far-away."
+
+Lady Ogram smiled with pleasure. The portrait referred to was a
+painting made of her soon after her marriage, when she was in the prime
+of her beauty; not good as a work of art, and doing much less than
+justice to the full-blooded vigour of the woman as she then lived, but
+still a picture that drew the eye and touched the fancy.
+
+"No doubt you are right. This girl is a grand-niece of mine, my
+brother's son's daughter. I only heard of her a week ago. She is coming
+to see me."
+
+Constance now understood the significance of Mr. Kerchever's visit, and
+the feverish state of mind in which Lady Ogram had since been living.
+She felt no touch of sympathetic emotion, but smiled as if the
+announcement greatly interested her; and in a sense it did.
+
+"I can quite understand your impatience to see her."
+
+"Yes, but one shouldn't make a fool of oneself. An old fool's worse
+than a young one. Don't think I build my hopes on the girl. I wrote to
+her, and she has written to me--not a bad sort of letter; but I know
+nothing about her, except that she has been well enough educated to
+pass an examination at London University. That means something, I
+suppose, doesn't it?"
+
+"Certainly it does," answered Constance, noting a pathetic self-subdual
+in the old lady's look and tone. "For a girl, it means a good deal."
+
+"You think so?" The bony hands were restless and tremulous; the dark
+eyes glistened. "It isn't quite ordinary, is it? But then, of course,
+it tells nothing about her character. She is coming to stay for a day
+or two coming on Saturday. If I don't like her, no harm's done. Back
+she goes to her people, that's all--her mother's family--I know nothing
+about them, and care less. At all events, she looks endurable--don't
+you think?"
+
+"Much more than that," said Constance. "A very nice girl, I should
+imagine."
+
+"Ha! You mean that?--Of course you do, or you wouldn't say it. But
+then, if she's only a 'nice girl'--pooh! She ought to be more than
+that. What's the use of a photograph? Every photo ever taken of me made
+me look a simpering idiot."
+
+This was by no means true, but Lady Ogram had always been a bad sitter
+to the camera, and had destroyed most of its results. The oil painting
+in the dining-room she regarded with a moderate complacency. Many a
+time during the latter years of withering and enfeeblement her memory
+had turned to that shining head in marble, which was hidden away amid
+half a century's dust under the roof at Rivenoak. There, and there
+only, survived the glory of her youth, when not the face alone, but all
+her faultless body made the artist's rapture.
+
+"Well," she said, abruptly, "you'll see the girl. Her name is May
+Tomalin. You're not obliged to like her. You're not obliged to tell me
+what you think of her. Most likely I shan't ask you.--By the bye, I had
+a letter from Dyce Lashmar this morning."
+
+"Indeed?" said the other, with a careless smile.
+
+"I like his way of writing. It's straight-forward and sharp-cut, like
+his talk. A man who means what he says, and knows how to say it; that's
+a great deal nowadays."
+
+Constance assented with all good-humour to Lady Ogram's praise.
+
+"You must answer him for me," the old lady continued. "No need, of
+course, to show me what you write; just put it into a letter of your
+own."
+
+"I hardly think I shall be writing to Mr. Lashmar," said Miss Bride,
+very quietly.
+
+"Do you mean that?"
+
+Their eyes met' and Constance bore the other's gaze without flinching.
+
+"We are not such great friends, Lady Ogram. You will remember I told
+you that I knew him but slightly."
+
+"All right. It has nothing to do with me, whether you're friends or
+not. You can answer as my secretary, I suppose?"
+
+And Lady Ogram, with her uncertain, yet not undignified, footfall, went
+straightway from the room. There was a suspicion of needless sound as
+the door closed behind her.
+
+Constance sat for a minute or two in a very rigid attitude, displeasure
+manifest on her lips. She did not find it easy to get to work again,
+and when the time came for her bicycle ride, she was in no mind for it,
+but preferred to sit over a book. At luncheon Lady Ogram inclined to
+silence. Later in the day, however, they met on the ordinary terms of
+mutual understanding, and Constance, after speaking of other things,
+asked whether she should write Lady Ogram's reply to Mr. Lashmar.
+
+"Mr. Lashmar? Oh, I have written to him myself," said the old lady, as
+if speaking of a matter without importance.
+
+Three days went by, and it was Saturday. Lady Ogram came down earlier
+than usual this morning, but did not know how to occupy herself; she
+fretted at the rainy sky which kept her within doors; she tried to talk
+with her secretary of an important correspondence they had in hand (it
+related to a projected society for the invigoration of village life),
+but her thoughts were too obviously wandering. Since that dialogue in
+the library, not a word regarding Miss Tomalin had escaped her; all at
+once she said:
+
+"My niece is due here at four this afternoon. I want you to be with me
+when she comes into the room. You won't forget that?"
+
+Never before had Constance seen the old autocrat suffering from
+nervousness; it was doubtful whether anyone at any time had enjoyed the
+privilege. Strange to say, this abnormal state of things did not
+irritate Lady Ogram's temper; she was remarkably mild, and for once in
+her life seemed to feel it no indignity to stand in need of moral
+support. Long before the time for Miss Tomalin's arrival, she
+established herself on her throne amid the drawing-room verdure.
+Constance tried to calm her by reading aloud, but this the old lady
+soon found unendurable.
+
+"I wonder whether the train will be late?" she said. "No doubt it will;
+did you ever know a train punctual? It may be half an hour late. The
+railways are scandalously managed. They ought to be taken over by the
+government."
+
+"I don't think that would improve matters," said the secretary, glad of
+a discussion to relieve the tedium. She too was growing nervous.
+
+"Nonsense! Of course it would."
+
+Constance launched into argument, and talked for talking's sake. She
+knew that her companion was not listening.
+
+"It's four o'clock," exclaimed Lady Ogram presently. "There may be an
+accident with the brougham. Leggatt sometimes drives very carelessly--"
+no more prudent coachman existed--"and the state of the roads about
+here is perfectly scandalous"--they were as good roads as any in
+England. "What noise was that?"
+
+"I heard nothing."
+
+"I've often noticed that you are decidedly dull of hearing. Has it
+always been so? You ought to consult a what are the men called who see
+to one's ears?"
+
+Lady Ogram was growing less amiable, and with much ado Constance
+restrained herself from a tart reply. Three minutes more, and the
+atmosphere of the room would have become dangerously electric. But
+before two minutes had elapsed, the door opened, and a colourless
+domestic voice announced:
+
+"Miss Tomalin."
+
+There entered very much the kind of figure that Constance had expected
+to see; a young lady something above the middle height, passably, not
+well, dressed, moving quickly and not ungracefully, but with
+perceptible lack of that self-possession which is the social
+testimonial. She wore a new travelling costume, fawn-coloured, with a
+slightly inappropriate hat (too trimmy), and brown shoes which
+over-asserted themselves. Her collar was of the upright sort, just
+turned down at the corners; her tie, an ill-made little bow of red.
+About her neck hung a pair of eye-glasses; at her wrist were attached a
+silver pencil-case and a miniature ivory paper-knife. The face
+corresponded fairly well with its photographic presentment so long
+studied by Lady Ogram, and so well remembered by Constance Bride; its
+colour somewhat heightened and the features mobile under nervous
+stress, it offered a more noticeable resemblance to that ancestral
+portrait in the dining-room.
+
+Lady Ogram had risen; she took a tremulous step or two from the throne,
+and spoke in a voice much more senile than its wont.
+
+"I am glad to see you, May--glad to see you! This is my friend and
+secretary, Miss Bride, whom I mentioned to you."
+
+Constance and the new-comer bowed, hesitated, shook hands. Miss Tomalin
+had not yet spoken; she was smiling timidly, and casting quick glances
+about the room.
+
+"You had an easy journey, I hope," said Miss Bride, aware that the old
+lady was sinking breathless and feeble into her chair.
+
+"Oh, it was nothing at all."
+
+Miss Tomalin's utterance was not markedly provincial, but distinct from
+that of the London drawing-room; the educated speech of the ubiquitous
+middle-class, with a note of individuality which promised to command
+itself better in a few minutes. The voice was pleasantly clear.
+
+"You had no difficulty in finding the carriage?" said Lady Ogram,
+speaking with obvious effort.
+
+"Oh, none whatever, thank you! So kind of you to send it for me."
+
+"I wanted to see you for a moment, as soon as you arrived. Now they
+shall take you to your room. Come down again as soon as you like; we
+will have tea."
+
+"Thank you; that will be very nice."
+
+Miss Tomalin stood up, looked at the plants and flowers about her, and
+added in a voice already more courageous:
+
+"What a charming room! Green is so good for the eyes."
+
+"Are your eyes weak?" inquired Lady Ogram, anxiously.
+
+"Oh, not really weak," was the rapid answer (Miss Tomalin spoke more
+quickly as she gained confidence), "I use glasses when I am studying or
+at the piano, but they're not _actually_ necessary. Still, I have been
+advised to be careful. Of course I read a great deal."
+
+There was a spontaneity, a youthful vivacity, in her manner, which
+saved it from the charge of conceit; she spoke with a naive earnestness
+pleasantly relieved by the smile in her grey eyes and by something in
+the pose of her head which suggested a latent modesty.
+
+"I know you are a great student," said Lady Ogram, regarding her
+amiably. "But run and take off your hat, and come back to tea."
+
+She and Constance sat together, silent. They did not exchange glances.
+
+"Well?" sounded at length from the throne, a tentative monosyllable.
+
+Constance looked up. She saw that Lady Ogram was satisfied, happy.
+
+"I'm glad Miss Tomalin was so punctual," was all she could find to say.
+
+"So am I. But we were talking about your deafness: you must have it
+seen to. Young people nowadays! They can't hear, they can't see, they
+have no teeth--"
+
+"Miss Tomalin, I noticed, has excellent teeth."
+
+"She takes after me in that. Her eyes, too, are good enough, but she
+has worn them out already. She'll have to stop that reading; I am not
+going to have her blind at thirty. She didn't seem to be deaf, did she?"
+
+"No more than I am, Lady Ogram."
+
+"You are not deaf? Then why did you say you were?"
+
+"It was you, not I, that said so," answered Constance, with a laugh.
+
+"And what do you think of her?" asked Lady Ogram sharply.
+
+"I think her interesting," was Miss Bride's reply, the word bearing a
+sense to her own thought not quite identical with that which it
+conveyed to the hearer.
+
+"So do I. She's very young, but none the worse for that. You think her
+interesting. So do I."
+
+Constance noticed that Lady Ogram's talk to-day had more of the
+characteristics of old age than ordinarily, as though, in her great
+satisfaction, the mind relaxed and the tongue inclined to babble.
+Though May was absent less than a quarter of an hour, the old lady
+waxed impatient.
+
+"I hope she isn't a looking-glass girl. But no, that doesn't seem
+likely. Of course young people must think a little about dress--Oh,
+here she comes at last."
+
+Miss Tomalin had made no change of dress, beyond laying aside her hat
+and jacket. One saw now that she had plenty of light brown hair,
+naturally crisp and easily lending itself to effective arrangement; it
+was coiled and plaited on the top of her head, and rippled airily above
+her temples. The eyebrows were darker of hue, and accentuated the most
+expressive part of her physiognomy, for when she smiled it was much
+more the eyes than the lips which drew attention.
+
+"Come and sit here, May," said Lady Ogram, indicating a chair near the
+throne. "You're not tired? You don't easily get tired, I hope?"
+
+"Oh, not very easily. Of course I make a point of physical exercise; it
+is a part of rational education."
+
+"Do you cycle?" asked Constance.
+
+"Indeed I do! The day before yesterday I rode thirty miles. Not
+scorching, you know; that's weak-minded."
+
+Lady Ogram seemed to be reflecting as to whether she was glad or not
+that her relative rode the bicycle. She asked whether May had brought
+her machine.
+
+"No," was the airy reply, "I'm not a slave to it."
+
+The other nodded approval, and watched May as she manipulated a
+tea-cup. Talk ran on trivialities for a while; the new-comer still cast
+curious glances about the room, and at moments stole a quick
+observation of her companions. She was not entirely at ease;
+self-consciousness appeared in a furtive change of attitude from time
+to time; it might have been remarked, too, that she kept a guard upon
+her phrasing and even her pronunciation, emphasising certain words with
+a sort of academic pedantry. Perhaps it was this which caused Lady
+Ogram to ask at length whether she still worked for examinations.
+
+"No, I have quite given that up," May replied, with an air of
+well-weighed finality. "I found that it led to one-sidedness--to narrow
+aims. It's all very well when one is _very_ young. I shouldn't like to
+restrict my study in that way now. The problems of modern life are so
+full of interest. There are so many books that it is a duty to read, a
+positive duty. And one finds so much practical work."
+
+"What sort of work?"
+
+"In the social direction. I take a great interest in the condition of
+the poor."
+
+"Really?" exclaimed Lady Ogram. "What do you do?"
+
+"We have a little society for extending civilisation among the ignorant
+and the neglected. Just now we are trying to teach them how to make use
+of the free library, to direct their choice of books. I must tell you
+that a favourite study of mine is Old English, and I'm sure it would be
+so good if our working classes could be brought to read Chaucer and
+Langland and Wycliffe and so on. One can't expect them to study foreign
+languages, but these old writers would serve them for a philological
+training, which has such an excellent effect on the mind. I know a
+family--shockingly poor living, four of them, in two rooms--who have
+promised me to give an hour every Sunday to 'Piers the Plowman'--I have
+made them a present of the little Clarendon Press edition, which has
+excellent notes Presently, I shall set them a little examination
+paper--very simple, of course."
+
+Miss Bride's countenance was a study of subdued expression. Lady
+Ogram--who probably had never heard of 'Piers the Plowman'--glanced
+inquiringly at her secretary, and seemed to suspend judgment.
+
+"We, too, take a good deal of interest in that kind of thing," she
+remarked. "I see that we shall understand each other. Do your
+relatives, Mr. and Mrs. Rooke, work with you?"
+
+"They haven't quite the same point of view," said Miss Tomalin, smiling
+indulgently. "I'm afraid they represent rather the old way of thinking
+about the poor--the common-sense way, they call it; it means, as far as
+I can see, not thinking much about the poor at all. Of course I try to
+make them understand that this is neglect of duty. We have no right
+whatever to live in enjoyment of our privileges and pay no heed to
+those less fortunate. Every educated person is really a missionary,
+whose duty it is to go forth and spread the light. I feel it so
+strongly that I could not, simply could _not_, be satisfied to pursue
+my own culture; it seems to me the worst kind of selfishness. The other
+day I went, on the business of our society, into a dreadfully poor
+home, where the people, I'm sure, often suffer from hunger. I couldn't
+give money--for one thing, I have very little, and then it's so
+demoralising, and one never knows whether the people will be
+offended--but I sat down and told the poor woman all about the Prologue
+to the Canterbury Tales, and you can't think how interested she was,
+and how grateful! It quite brightened the day for her. One felt one had
+done _some_ good."
+
+There was silence. Lady Ogram looked admiringly at the girl. If anyone
+else had talked to her in this way, no vehemence of language would have
+sufficed to express her scorn; but in May Tomalin such ideals seemed to
+her a very amiable trait. She was anxious to see everything May said or
+did in a favourable light.
+
+"Have you tried the effect of music?" asked Constance, gravely, when
+Miss Tomalin chanced to regard her.
+
+"Oh, we haven't forgotten that. Next winter we hope to give a few
+concerts in a schoolroom. Of course it must be really good music; we
+shan't have anything of a popular kind--at least, we shan't if my view
+prevails. It isn't our object to _amuse_ people; it would be really
+humiliating to play and sing the kind of things the ignorant poor like.
+We want to train their intelligence. Some of our friends say it will be
+absurd to give them classical music, which will weary and discontent
+them. But they must be made to understand that their weariness and
+discontent is _wrong_. We have to show them how bad and poor their
+taste is, that they may strive to develop a higher and nobler. I, for
+one, shall utterly decline to have anything to do with the concerts if
+the programme doesn't consist exclusively of the really great, Bach and
+Beethoven and so on. Don't you agree with me?"
+
+"In principle," replied Lady Ogram, "certainly. We shall have lots of
+things to talk about, I see."
+
+"I delight in talk about serious things!" cried May.
+
+But Lady Ogram's physical strength was not equal to the excitement she
+had gone through. Long before dinner-time her voice failed, and she had
+no choice but to withdraw into privacy, leaving Constance Bride to play
+the hostess. Alone with a companion of not much more than her own age,
+Miss Tomalin manifested relief; she began to move about, looking at
+things with frank curiosity, and talking in a more girlish way. The
+evening was cloudy, and did not tempt forth, but May asked whether they
+could not walk a little in the garden.
+
+"This is a beautiful place! I shall enjoy myself here tremendously! And
+it's all so unexpected. Of course you know, Miss Bride, that I had
+never heard of Lady Ogram until a few days ago?"
+
+"Yes, I have heard the story."
+
+"Do let us get our hats and run out. I want to see everything."
+
+They went into the garden, and May, whilst delighting in all she saw,
+asked a multitude of questions about her great-aunt. It was only in the
+intellectual domain that she evinced pretentiousness and grew
+grandiloquent; talking of her private affairs, she was very direct and
+simple, with no inclination to unhealthy ways of thought. She spoke of
+her birth in Canada, and her childish recollections of that country.
+
+"I used to be rather sorry that we had come back to England, for the
+truth is I don't much care for Northampton, and I have never been quite
+comfortable with my relatives there. But now, of course, everything is
+different. It seems a great pity that I should have had such a relative
+as Lady Ogram and known nothing about it doesn't it? Strange how the
+branches of a family lose sight of each other? Can you tell me Lady
+Ogram's age?"
+
+Constance replied that it was not far from eighty.
+
+"Really, I should have taken her for older still. She seems very nice;
+I think I shall like her. I wonder whether she will ask me often to
+Rivenoak? Do you know whether she means to?"
+
+When she came down after dressing for dinner, Constance found Miss
+Tomalin in the dining-room, standing before her great-aunt's portrait.
+
+"Surely that isn't--_can_ that be Lady Ogram?" exclaimed the girl.
+
+"Yes; more than fifty years ago."
+
+"Do you know, I think she was rather like _me_!"
+
+Constance smiled, and said that there was certainly a family
+resemblance. It appeared more strongly in the girl's face attired as
+she now was, her neck at liberty from the white linen collar, and her
+features cast into relief by a dress of dark material. Having felt a
+little apprehensive about the young lady's evening garb, Constance was
+surprised to find that it erred, if anything, on the side of
+simplicity. Though, for several reasons, not at all predisposed to like
+Miss Tomalin, she began to feel her prejudice waning, and by the end of
+dinner they were conversing in a very friendly tone. May chatted of her
+friends at Northampton, and several times mentioned a Mr. Yabsley, whom
+it was evident she held in much esteem. Mr. Yabsley, it appeared, was
+the originator of the society for civilising the ignorant poor; Mr.
+Yabsley lectured on very large subjects, and gave readings from very
+serious authors; Mr. Yabsley believed in the glorious destinies of the
+human race, especially of that branch of it known as Anglo-Saxon.
+
+"He is an elderly gentleman?" asked Constance, with a half-smile of
+mischief.
+
+"Old! Oh dear, no! Mr. Yabsley is only about thirty--not quite that, I
+think."
+
+And May suddenly turned to talk of Browning, whom she felt it a
+"positive duty" to know from end to end. Had Miss Bride really mastered
+"Sordello?"
+
+"I never tried to," Constance answered. "Why should I worry about
+unintelligible stuff that would give me no pleasure even if I could
+understand it?"
+
+"Oh! Oh! _Don't_ speak like that!" cried the other, distressfully. "I'm
+sure you don't mean it!"
+
+"I care very little for poetry of any kind," said Constance, in all
+sincerity.
+
+"Oh, how I grieve to hear that!--But then, of course we all have our
+special interests. Yours is science, I know. I've worked a good deal at
+science; of course one can't possibly neglect it; it's a simple duty to
+make oneself as many-sided as possible, don't you think? Just now, I'm
+giving half an hour before breakfast every day to Huxley's book on the
+Crayfish. Mr. Yabsley suggested it to me. Not long ago he was in
+correspondence with Huxley about something--I don't quite know what but
+he takes a great interest in Evolution. Of course you know that volume
+on the Crayfish?"
+
+"I'm afraid I don't. You arrange your day, I see, very methodically."
+
+"Oh, without method _nothing_ can be done. Of course I have a
+time-table. I try to put in a great many things, but I'm sure it's no
+use sitting down to any study for less than half an hour--do you think
+so? At present I can only give half an hour to Herbert Spencer--I think
+I shall have to cut out my folk-lore to make more time for him. Yet
+folk-lore is so fascinating! Of course you delight in it?"
+
+"I never had time for it at all," replied Constance.
+
+"Just now I'm quite excited about ghost-worship. Mr. Yabsley doesn't
+think it is sufficient to explain the origin of religious ideas."
+
+"Mr. Yabsley," remarked Constance, "has pronounced opinions on most
+things?"
+
+"Oh, he is very wide, indeed. Very wide, and very thorough. There's no
+end to the examinations he has passed. He's thinking of taking the D.
+Litt at London; it's awfully stiff, you know."
+
+When they parted, about eleven o'clock, Miss Tomalin went upstairs
+humming a passage from a Beethoven sonata. She declared herself
+enchanted with her room, and hoped she might wake early, to make the
+coming day all the longer.
+
+At ten next morning, Constance was summoned to the upstairs room where
+Lady Ogram sometimes sat when neither so unwell as to stay in bed nor
+quite well enough to come down. A bad night had left the old lady with
+a ghastly visage, but she smiled with grim contentment as her secretary
+entered.
+
+"Come, I want you to tell me what you talked about. Where is she now?
+What is she doing?"
+
+"Miss Tomalin is in the library, rejoicing among the books."
+
+"She is very intellectual," said Lady Ogram. "I never knew anyone so
+keen about knowledge. But what did you talk about last night?"
+
+"Of very many things. Canada and Northampton, religion and crayfish,
+Huxley and--Yabsley."
+
+"Yabsley? Who's Yabsley?"
+
+"A gentleman of Northampton, a man of light and leading, a great friend
+of Miss Tomalin's."
+
+"An old man, I suppose?" asked Lady Ogram, sharply.
+
+"Not quite thirty."
+
+"But married? Of course married?"
+
+"I didn't ask; but, I fancy, not."
+
+Lady Ogram flushed, and fell into extreme agitation. Why had she not
+been told about this Yabsley? Why had not that idiot Kerchever made
+inquiries and heard about him? This very morning she would write him a
+severe letter. What, May was engaged? To a man called Yabsley?
+Constance, as soon as interposition was possible, protested against
+this over-hasty view of the matter. She did not for a moment think that
+May was engaged, and, after all, Mr. Yabsley might even be married.
+
+"Then why," cried Lady Ogram, furiously, "did you begin by terrifying
+me? Did you do it on purpose? If I thought so, I would send you packing
+about your business this moment!"
+
+Constance, who had not yet taken a seat, drew back a few steps. Her
+face darkened. With hands clasped behind her, she regarded the raging
+old autocrat coldly and sternly.
+
+"If you wish it, Lady Ogram, I am quite ready to go."
+
+Their eyes encountered. Lady Ogram was quivering, mumbling, gasping;
+her look fell.
+
+"Sit down," she said imperatively.
+
+"I am afraid," was Miss Bride's reply, "we had better not talk whilst
+you are feeling so unwell."
+
+"Sit down, I tell you! I wasn't unwell at all, till you made me so. Who
+is this Yabsley? Some low shopkeeper? Some paltry clerk?"
+
+The old lady knew very well that Constance Bride would never tremble
+before her. It was this proudly independent spirit, unyielding as her
+own, and stronger still in that it never lost self-command, which had
+so established the clergyman's daughter in her respect and confidence.
+Yet the domineering instinct now and then prompted her to outrage a
+dignity she admired, and her invariable defeat was a new satisfaction
+when she calmly looked back upon it.
+
+"You mustn't mind me," she said presently, when Constance had quietly
+refused to make conjectures about the subject under dissuasion. "Isn't
+it natural enough that I should be upset when I hear such news as this?
+I wanted to have a talk with May this morning, but now--"
+
+She broke off, and hung her head gloomily.
+
+"In your position," said Constance, "I should find out by a simple
+inquiry whether Miss Tomalin is engaged or likely to be. She will
+answer, I am sure, readily enough. She doesn't seem to be at all
+reticent."
+
+"Of course I shall do so; thank you for the advice, all the same. Would
+you mind bringing her up here? If you prefer it, I will ring."
+
+Scrupulousness of this kind always followed when Lady Ogram had behaved
+ill to her secretary. The smile with which Constance responded was a
+ratification of peace. In a few minutes the old lady and May were
+chatting together, alone, and without difficulty the great doubt was
+solved.
+
+"I'm thinking of going to London for a week or two--" thus Lady Ogram
+approached the point--"and I should rather like to take you with me."
+
+"It's very kind of you," said May, with joy in her eyes.
+
+"But I want to know whether you are quite independent. Is there
+anyone--beside Mr. and Mrs. Rooke that you would have to consult about
+it?"
+
+"No one whatever. You know that I am long since of age, Lady Ogram."
+
+"If you like, call me your aunt. It's simpler, you know."
+
+"Certainly I will. I am quite free, aunt."
+
+"Good. I may take it for granted, then, that you have formed no ties of
+any kind?"
+
+May shook her head, smiling as though at a thought which the words
+suggested, a thought not unpleasing, but not at all difficult to
+dismiss. Thereupon Lady Ogram began to talk freely of her projects.
+
+"I shall go up to town in a fortnight--at the end of this month. Of
+course you must have some things, dresses and so on. I'll see to that.
+Before we leave Rivenoak, I should like you to meet a few people, my
+friends at Hollingford particularly, but in a very quiet way; I shall
+ask them to lunch with us, most likely. Shall you want to go back to
+Hollingford before leaving for London?"
+
+"Oh, it isn't at all necessary," answered May, with sprightliest
+readiness. "I haven't brought many things with me, but I could send--"
+
+"As for clothing, don't trouble; that's my affair. Then we'll settle
+that you stay on with me for the present. And now tell me, how do you
+like Miss Bride?"
+
+"Oh, very much indeed! I'm sure we shall soon quite understand each
+other."
+
+"I'm glad to hear that. I hope you will. I may say that I have a very
+high opinion indeed of Miss Bride, and that there's no one in whom I
+put more confidence."
+
+"Will she go to London with us?"
+
+"Certainly, I couldn't get on without her help."
+
+May was relieved. The prospect of living alone with her great-aunt,
+even in London, had mingled a little uneasiness with her joyful
+anticipation. Now she abandoned herself to high spirits, and talked
+until Lady Ogram began to have a headache. For an hour before luncheon
+they drove out together, May still gossiping, her aged relative now and
+then attentive, but for the most part drowsily musing.
+
+That afternoon, when an hour or two of sleep had somewhat restored her,
+Lady Ogram sketched several letters for her secretary to write. Pausing
+at length, she looked at Miss Bride, and, for the first time, addressed
+her by her personal name.
+
+"Constance--"
+
+The other responded with a pleased and gratified smile.
+
+"From Mr. Lashmar's talk of him, what sort of idea have you formed of
+Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+"Rather a vague one, I'm afraid. I have heard him only casually
+mentioned."
+
+"But Mr. Lashmar has a high opinion of him? He thinks him a man of good
+principles?"
+
+"Undoubtedly. A very honourable man."
+
+"So I hear from other sources," said Lady Ogram. "It's probably true. I
+should rather like to know Lord Dymchurch. He would be an interesting
+man to know, don't you think?"
+
+As not infrequently happened, their eyes met in a mute interchange of
+thought.
+
+"Interesting--yes," replied Constance, slowly. And she added, pressing
+the nib of her pen on her finger-nail, "They say he doesn't marry just
+because he is poor and honourable."
+
+"It's possible," Lady Ogram rejoined, and, after a moment's reflection,
+said in an absent voice that the day's correspondence was finished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+Though Mrs. Toplady seldom rose much before midday, it was not the mere
+luxury of repose that kept her in her chamber. As a rule, she awoke
+from refreshing sleep at eight o'clock. A touch on the electric button
+near her hand summoned a maid, who appeared with tea, the morning's
+post, and a mass of printed matter: newspapers, reviews, magazines,
+volumes, which had arrived by various channels since noon on the
+previous day. Apparatus of perfected ingenuity, speedily attached to
+the bed, enabled her to read or write in any position that she found
+easiest. First of all she went through her letters, always numerous,
+never disquieting--for Mrs. Toplady had no personal attachments which
+could for a moment disturb her pulse, and her financial security stood
+on the firmest attainable basis. Such letters as demanded a reply, she
+answered at once, and with brevity which in her hands had become an
+art. Appeals for money, public or private, she carefully considered,
+responding with a cheque only when she saw some distinct
+advantage--such as prestige or influence--to be gained by the pecuniary
+sacrifice. Another touch on the button, and there entered a graceful
+woman of discreet visage, with whom Mrs. Toplady held colloquy for half
+an hour; in that time a vast variety of concerns, personal, domestic,
+mundane, was discussed and set in order. Left to herself again, Mrs.
+Toplady took up the newspapers; thence she passed to the bulkier
+periodicals; lastly, to literature in volume. Her manner of reading
+betokened the quick-witted woman who sees at a glance the thing she
+cares for, and refuses to spend a moment on anything not immediately
+attractive. People marvelled at the extent of her acquaintance with
+current writing; in truth, she never read a book, but skimmed the pages
+just sufficiently for her amusement and her social credit. In the world
+of laborious idleness, Mrs. Toplady had a repute for erudition; she was
+often spoken of as a studious and learned woman; and this estimate of
+herself she inclined to accept. Having daily opportunity of observing
+the fathomless ignorance of polite persons, she made it her pride to
+keep abreast with the day's culture. Genuine curiosity, too, supplied
+her with a motive, for she had a certain thin, supple, restless
+intelligence, which took wide surveys of superficial life, and was ever
+seeking matter for mirth or disdain in the doings of men.
+
+Her first marriage was for love. It cost her seven years of poverty and
+wretchedness; it cost her, moreover, all the ideals of her youth, and
+made her a scheming cynic. Having, by natural power and great good
+fortune, got the world at her feet, she both enjoyed and despised what
+seemed to her to have been won so easily. The softer emotions were
+allowed no place in her nature; by careful self-discipline, she had
+enabled herself wholly to disregard the unhappy side of life, to pass
+without the least twinge of sympathy all human sorrows and pains. If
+reminded of them against her will, she hardened herself with the bitter
+memory of her early years, when, as she said, she had suffered quite
+enough for one lifetime. The habit of her mind was to regard existence
+as an entertaining spectacle. She had a most comfortable seat, and
+flattered herself that few people could appreciate so well as she the
+comedy going on before her. When she found an opportunity for
+intervention; when, with little or no trouble to herself, she could
+rearrange a scene or prepare a novel situation; so much the better was
+she pleased, and all the more disdain did she feel for the fussy,
+pompous mortals who were so easily manipulated.
+
+At present she had her eyes upon a personage who amused her
+considerably. He answered to the name of Dyce Lashmar, and fell under
+the general description of charlatan. Not for a moment had Mrs. Toplady
+been in doubt as to this classification; but Dyce Lashmar was not quite
+an ordinary charlatan, and seemed to be worth the observing. She meant
+to know him thoroughly, to understand what he really aimed at--whether
+he harboured merely a gross design on Lady Ogram's wealth, or in truth
+believed himself strong enough to win a place among those grave
+comedians who rule the world. He was a very young man; he had not
+altogether got rid of youth's ingenuousness; if his ideas were his own
+(she doubted it) he had evidently a certain mental equipment, which
+would aid him--up to a certain point; in every case, he excelled in
+intellectual plausibility. Perhaps he might get into Parliament; for
+the amusement of the thing, she would try to help him in that
+direction. On returning from Rivenoak, she had at once begun to spread
+rumours of a Coming man, a new light in the political world, that it
+behooved one to keep an eye on. So seldom did Mrs. Toplady risk her
+reputation by rash prophecy, that those who heard of Mr. Lashmar were
+disposed to take him with all seriousness. Certain of Mrs. Toplady's
+intimates begged, and were promised, the privilege of meeting him. To
+that end, a ceremonious evening was appointed in Pont Street.
+
+Meanwhile, Lashmar had called, and met with a very gracious reception.
+He was bidden to luncheon on a day in the same week. On arriving, he
+found with surprise that he was the sole guest.
+
+"I wanted to have a real talk with you," said the hostess, as she
+received him in her magnificent drawing-room. "I have been thinking a
+great deal about things you said at Rivenoak."
+
+Her fire of glances perceived that the young man, though agreeably
+touched and full of expectancy, was to a certain extent on his guard.
+He, too, no doubt, had power of reading faces, of discerning motives.
+She did not desire him to be too facile a victim of cajolery; it would
+take from the interest she felt in his ambitions. At table, they talked
+at first of bio-sociology, Mrs. Toplady, with the adroitness which
+distinguished her, seeming thoroughly to grasp a subject of which she
+knew nothing, and which, if she had tried to think about it, would have
+bored her unspeakably. But she soon diverged to things personal, spoke
+of people whom she wished Lashmar to meet, and asked whether a date she
+had in mind would suit his convenience.
+
+"I think you know Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+"Very well," answered Dyce, blandly.
+
+"I should like to meet him I have heard he is most interesting."
+
+"He certainly is," said Lashmar, "but no man is so hard to get hold of.
+I never ventured to try to take him anywhere; he very much dislikes
+meeting strangers."
+
+"Tell me about him, will you?"
+
+Dyce could speak only of Lord Dymchurch's personal and mental
+characteristics; of his circumstances he knew nothing more than could
+be gathered from rumour.
+
+"Let me make a suggestion," said Mrs. Toplady, with a flatteringly
+intimate air. "Suppose you give a quiet little dinner to a few of your
+friends, say at one of the restaurants. Don't you think Lord Dymchurch
+might be willing to come? If I may propose myself--" The roguish smile
+was lost in a radiant archness. "Half a dozen of us just to talk over
+the political situation."
+
+Lashmar looked delighted. In reality he was seized with anxious thought
+as to whom he could invite for such an important occasion. As is
+commonly the case with men of great self-esteem and modest resources,
+he had made friends with the poorer and less ambitious of his
+acquaintances, and these were not the sort of people to present either
+to Mrs. Toplady or to Lord Dymchurch. However, he knew a man pretty
+well placed in the Home Office. He knew also--
+
+"Would you like to ask our friend Mrs. Woolstan?" let fall the hostess,
+shooting one swift glance at his busy forehead.
+
+"Yes--certainly--"
+
+"She's charming," pursued Mrs. Toplady, with her kindest air, "and I'm
+sure your views interest her."
+
+"Mrs. Woolstan spoke of them?"
+
+"Oh, yes! She called here, as I told you, the day before I went down to
+Rivenoak, and, as we were talking, I happened to mention where I was
+going. 'Oh then,' she said, 'you'll see my friend Mr. Lashmar!' 'I told
+her that Lady Ogram had specially asked me to meet you.' Of course it
+delighted me to hear that you knew each other so well. I have always
+thought Mrs. Woolstan a very clever little woman. And she looks at
+things from such a high point of view--a thorough idealist. Do let us
+have her.--Then, if I might propose another guest--?"
+
+She paused, as if afraid of presuming on Lashmar's good-nature.
+
+"Pray do! I couldn't possibly have a better adviser."
+
+Dyce was trying to strike his note of easy comradeship, but found it
+very difficult. Mrs. Toplady had so vast an advantage of him in manner,
+in social resources, and, for all her amiability, must needs regard him
+from a higher ground.
+
+"It's very nice of you to say that," she resumed; "I was thinking of
+Mr. Roach, the Member for Belper. You don't happen to know him? Oh,
+that doesn't matter. He's delightful; about your own age, I think. Come
+and meet him here at five o'clock on Sunday; have a talk and then send
+him your invitation. He, too, is a thorough idealist; you're sure to
+like him."
+
+Before Lashmar left the house, all the details of this little dinner
+were neatly settled, the only point necessarily left uncertain being
+whether Lord Dymchurch could be counted upon. Of course Mrs. Toplady
+had dictated everything, even to the choice of restaurant and the very
+room that was to be engaged; Lashmar would have the pleasure of
+ordering the dinner, and of paying the bill. He thanked his stars again
+for Mrs. Woolstan's cheque.
+
+On the strength of that same cheque, he had quitted his rooms near St.
+Pancras Church, and was now lodging, with more dignity, but doubtful
+advantage as to comfort, in Devonshire Street, Portland Place. The
+address, he felt, sounded tolerably well. Only in the vaguest way had
+he troubled to compute his annual outlay on this new basis. He was
+become an adventurer, and in common self-respect must cultivate the
+true adventurous spirit. Once or twice he half reproached himself for
+not striking out yet more boldly into the currents of ambition, for it
+was plain that a twelvemonth must see him either made or ruined, and
+probably everything depended on the quality of his courage. Now, he
+began to wonder whether Mrs. Toplady's favour would be likely to
+manifest itself in any still more practical way; but of this his
+reflection offered him no assurance. The probability was that in Lady
+Ogram lay his only reasonable hope. On the spur of such feeling, he
+addressed a letter to Rivenoak, giving an account of his luncheon in
+Pont Street, and thanking the old autocrat more fervently than he yet
+had done for all her good offices.
+
+Since his return from Rivenoak, he had not met Lord Dymchurch. He might
+of course write his invitation, but he fancied that it would have more
+chance of being accepted if he urged it orally, and, as he could not
+call upon the peer (whose private address, in books of reference, was
+merely the house in Somerset), he haunted the club with the hope of
+encountering him. On the second day fortune was propitious. Lord
+Dymchurch sat in his usual corner of the library, and, on Lashmar's
+approach, smiled his wonted greeting. After preliminary gossip, Dyce
+commanded himself to courageous utterance.
+
+"I have been asked to come forward as Liberal candidate for a little
+borough in the Midlands--Hollingford. It's a Tory seat, and I don't
+know whether I shall stand any chance, but local people want to fight
+it, and they seem to think that I may be the man for them."
+
+As he spoke, he felt that he wore an expression new to his visage, a
+sort of smile which his lips had not the habit of framing. Quite
+unconsciously, indeed, he had reproduced the smile of Mrs. Toplady; its
+ironic good-humour seemed to put him at ease, and to heighten his
+personal effectiveness.
+
+"Hollingford?" Lord Dymchurch reflected. "I know the place by name
+only."
+
+He looked at Lashmar with a new interest. Constantly worrying about his
+own inactive life, and what he deemed his culpable supineness as a
+citizen, the pinched peer envied any man to whom the Lower House
+offered its large possibilities.
+
+"The idea is quite novel to me," Lashmar continued. "You know something
+of my views--my cast of mind; do you think I should do well to go in
+for practical politics?"
+
+"I think any man does well who goes in for anything practical," was
+Lord Dymchurch's answer. "Stand, by all means, and I wish you success.
+Parliament isn't overcrowded with men of original views."
+
+"That's very kind of you.--I don't want to presume upon your
+good-nature, but I wonder whether I could persuade you to dine with me,
+to meet a few friends of mine who are so good as to interest themselves
+in this matter? Quite an informal little dinner; one or two ladies--the
+Member for Belper--a Home Office man people who see things rather in my
+own way--"
+
+He added place and date; then, with Mrs. Toplady's smile still on his
+lips, awaited the response. That Lord Dymchurch would much have
+preferred to excuse himself was visible enough in the pleasant, open
+countenance, little apt for dissembling; but no less evident was the
+amiability which made it difficult for him to refuse a favour, and
+which, in this instance, allied itself with something like a sense of
+duty. Lord Dymchurch had been considerably impressed by Lashmar's talk;
+the bio-sociological theory and all its consequences applied alike to
+his reason and his imagination; he had mused over this new philosophy,
+and the opportunity of being ever so little helpful to such a man as
+its originator should, he felt, be regarded as a privilege. That he
+could not altogether "take to" Lashmar was nothing to the point. How
+often had he rebuked himself for his incrustation of prejudices, social
+and personal, which interfered between him and the living, progressing
+world! Fie upon his finical spirit, which dwelt so vulgarly on a man's
+trivial defects!
+
+"With pleasure," he replied; and, as if feeling it insufficient, he
+added, "with great pleasure!"
+
+Dyce's lips forgot Mrs. Toplady; he smiled his own smile of genial
+satisfaction, and, as his way was when pleased, broke into effusive
+talk. He told of Lady Ogram, of the political situation at Hollingford,
+of editor Breakspeare, of the cantankerous Robb, and to all this Lord
+Dymchurch willingly lent ear.
+
+"I should uncommonly like you to go down with me some day. You might
+find it amusing. Lady Ogram is, undeniably, a very remarkable woman."
+
+Immediately after this conversation, Lashmar wrote off to Mrs. Toplady,
+half-a-dozen exultant lines, announcing his success No more wavering,
+he said to himself. Fate was on his side. He had but to disregard all
+paltry obstacles, and go straight on.
+
+Yet one obstacle, and that not altogether paltry, continually haunted
+his mind. He could not forget Lady Ogram's obvious intention that he
+should marry Constance Bride; and such a marriage was altogether out of
+harmony with his ambition. If it brought him money--that is to say, a
+substantial fortune--he might be content to accept it, but it could not
+be more than a compromise; he aimed at a very different sort of
+alliance. Moreover, he knew nothing of Lady Ogram's real intentions
+with regard to Constance; her mysterious phrases merely perplexed and
+annoyed him as often as he thought of them. To marry Constance
+_without_ a substantial fortune--that were disaster indeed! And what if
+Lady Ogram's favour depended upon it?
+
+But he had his little dinner to think of. He wrote to Mrs. Woolstan,
+who, by return of post, blithely accepted his invitation, begging him,
+at the same time, to come and see her before then, if he could possibly
+spare an hour. Dyce threw the letter aside impatiently. On Sunday he
+was in Pont Street, where he met the Parliamentary Mr. Roach, a young
+man fairly answering to Mrs. Toplady's description; an idealist of a
+mild type, whose favourite talk was of "altruism," and who, whilst
+affecting close attention to what other people said, was always
+absorbed in his own thoughts. Before Lashmar had been many minutes in
+the drawing-room, there entered Mrs. Woolstan, and she soon found an
+occasion for brief exchange of words with him.
+
+"Why haven't you been to see me yet?"
+
+"I'm so terribly busy. Of course I ought to have come. I thought of
+to-morrow--but now that we've met here, and are going to dine on the
+27th--"
+
+"Oh, I know you _must_ be busy!" conceded Iris, with panting emphasis
+and gladness. "How splendidly everything's going! But I want to hear
+about it all, you know. Your letter about Rivenoak only made me eager
+to know more--"
+
+"We'll have an afternoon presently. Ask Mrs. Toplady to introduce Mr.
+Roach--he dines with us on the 27th."
+
+To make sure of the M. P., Lashmar invited him verbally, and received a
+dreamy acceptance--so dreamy that he resolved to send a note, to remind
+Mr. Roach of the engagement.
+
+"So you are to be one of us, at Mr. Lashmar's dinner," said the hostess
+to Mrs. Woolstan. "A delightful evening--won't it be!"
+
+And she watched the eager little face with eyes which read its every
+line remorselessly: her smile more pitiless in ironic mischief even
+than of wont.
+
+On the morning of May the 28th, Lashmar wrote a full letter to
+Rivenoak. It told of a dinner successful beyond his hopes. Mrs. Toplady
+had surpassed herself in brilliant graciousness; Lord Dymchurch had
+broken through his reserve, and talked remarkably--most remarkably. "As
+for the host, why, he did what in him lay, and Mrs. Toplady was good
+enough to remark, as he handed her into her carriage, 'A few more
+dinners such as this, and all London will want to know the--' I won't
+finish her sentence. Joking apart, I think my friends enjoyed
+themselves, and they were certainly very encouraging with regard to our
+project."
+
+At the same hour, Mrs. Toplady, propped with pillows, was also writing
+to Rivenoak.
+
+"It came off very well indeed, and I see that we must take serious
+account of Mr. Lashmar. You know that, of course, and I didn't doubt
+your judgment, but intellectual distinction doesn't always go together
+with the qualities necessary to a political career. Beyond a doubt, he
+is our coming man! And now let me know when to expect you in London. I
+look forward to the delight of seeing you, and of making the
+acquaintance of your niece, who must be _very_ interesting. How lucky
+you are to have discovered at the same time two such brilliant young
+people! By the bye, I have not mentioned Miss Tomalin to any one; it
+occurred to me that silence in this matter was perhaps discretion. If I
+have been needlessly reticent, pray say so. Of course at a word from
+you, I can speak to the right people, but possibly you had rather
+nothing at all were said until the young lady has been seen. Myself, I
+see no reason whatever for explanations."
+
+As she closed this letter, Mrs. Toplady's smile all but became a
+chuckle. Nothing had so much amused her for a twelvemonth past.
+
+Lashmar had no reply from Rivenoak. This silence disappointed him. Ten
+days having elapsed, he thought of writing again, but there arrived a
+letter addressed in Miss Bride's hand, the contents a few lines in
+tremulous but bold character, signed "A. Ogram." He was invited to
+lunch, on the next day but one, at Bunting's Hotel, Albemarle Street.
+
+This same afternoon, having nothing to do, he went to call upon Mrs.
+Woolstan. It was his second visit since the restaurant dinner, and Iris
+showed herself very grateful for his condescension. She regarded him
+anxiously; made inquiries about his health; was he not working too
+hard? His eyes looked rather heavy, as if he studied too late at night.
+Dyce, assuming the Toplady smile, admitted that he might have been
+rather over-zealous at his constitutional history of late; concession
+to practicality had led him to take up that subject. In his thoughts,
+he reproached himself for a freak of the previous evening, a little
+outbreak of folly, of no grave importance, which had doubtless resulted
+from the exciting tenor of his life recently. On the whole, it might
+serve a useful purpose, reminding him to be on guard against certain
+weaknesses of his temperament, likely to be fostered by ease and
+liberty.
+
+"Lady Ogram is in town," he announced. "I lunch with her to-morrow."
+
+The news agitated Mrs. Woolstan.
+
+"Will she be alone?"
+
+"I suppose so--except for her secretary, who of course is always with
+her."
+
+Iris desired to know all about the secretary, and Lashmar described a
+neutral-tinted, pen-wielding young woman, much interested in social
+reform.
+
+"Perhaps I shall come to know Lady Ogram," said Iris, modestly. "I may
+meet her at Mrs. Toplady's. That would be delightful! I should be able
+to follow everything much better."
+
+"To be sure," was the rather dry response. "But I shall be surprised if
+the old lady stays long, or sees many people. Her health is of the
+shakiest, and London life would be a dangerous experiment, I should
+say. I don't at all know why she's coming, unless it is to see doctors."
+
+"Oh, I _do_ hope she'll be careful," panted Iris. "What a terrible
+thing it would be if she died suddenly--terrible for you, I mean. She
+ought to have some one to look well after her, indeed she ought. I
+wish"--this with a laugh--"she would take me as companion. Oh, wouldn't
+I have a care of her precious health!"
+
+When he drove to Bunting's Hotel, he had no thought of seeing anyone
+but Lady Ogram and Constance; the possibility that there might be other
+guests at luncheon did not enter his mind. Conducted to a private
+drawing-room on the first floor, he became aware, as the door opened,
+of a handsome girl in animated conversation with his two friends; she
+seemed so very much at home that he experienced a little shock, as of
+the unaccountable, the disconcerting, and his eyes with difficulty
+turned from this new face to that of the venerable hostess. Here again
+a surprise awaited him; Lady Ogram looked so much younger than when he
+took leave of her at Rivenoak, that he marvelled at the transformation.
+Notwithstanding her appearance she spoke in a strained, feeble voice,
+often indistinct; one noticed, too, that she was harder of hearing.
+Having pressed his hand--a very faint pressure, though meant for
+cordial--Lady Ogram turned a look upon the bright young lady near her,
+and said, with a wheezy emphasis:
+
+"Let me introduce you to my niece, Miss Tomalin."
+
+Never had Lashmar known her so ceremonious; never had she appeared so
+observant of his demeanor during the social formality. Overcome with
+astonishment at what he heard, he bowed stiffly, but submissively. The
+autocrat watched him with severe eyes, and only when his salute was
+accomplished did the muscles of her visage again relax. Mechanically,
+he turned to bow in the same way to Miss Bride, but she at once offered
+her hand with a friendly, "'low do you do?"
+
+"My niece, Miss Tomalin." Where on earth did this niece spring from?
+Everybody understood that Lady Ogram was alone in the world. Constance
+had expressly affirmed it--yet here was she smiling in the most natural
+way possible, as if nieces abounded at Rivenoak. Dyce managed to talk,
+but he heard not a word from his own lips, and his eyes, fixed on Lady
+Ogram's features, noted the indubitable fact that her complexion was
+artificial. This astounding old woman, at the age of four score, had
+begun to paint? So confused was Dyce's state of mind, that, on
+perceiving the truth of the matter, he all but uttered an exclamation.
+Perhaps only Miss Tomalin's voice arrested him.
+
+"My aunt has told me all about your new Socialism, Mr. Lashmar. You
+can't think how it has put my mind at rest! One has so felt that one
+_ought_ to be a Socialist, and yet there were so many things one
+couldn't accept. It's delightful to see everything reconciled--all one
+wants to keep and all the new things that _must_ come!"
+
+May had been developing. She spoke with a confidence which, on softer
+notes, emulated that of her aged relative; she carried her head with a
+conscious stateliness which might have been--perhaps was--deliberately
+studied after the portrait in the Rivenoak dining-room. Harmonious with
+this change was that in her attire; fashion had done its best to
+transform the aspiring young provincial into a metropolitan Grace; the
+result being that Miss Tomalin seemed to have grown in stature, to
+exhibit a more notable symmetry, so that she filled more space in the
+observer's eye than heretofore. For all that, she looked no older; her
+self-assertion, though more elaborate, was not a bit more impressive,
+and the phrases she used, the turn of her sentences, the colour of her
+speech, very little resembled anything that would have fallen from a
+damsel bred in the modish world. Her affectation was shot through with
+spontaneity; her impertinence had a juvenile seriousness which made it
+much more amusing than offensive; and a feminine charm in her, striving
+to prevail over incongruous elements, made clear appeal to the
+instincts of the other sex.
+
+"That is very encouraging," was Lashmar's reply. "If only one's
+thoughts can be of any help to others--"
+
+"What time is it?" broke in Lady Ogram. "Why doesn't that man come?
+What business has he to keep us waiting?"
+
+"It's only just half-past one," said Miss Bride.
+
+"Then he ought to be here." She turned to Lashmar. "I'm expecting a
+friend you've heard of--Sir William Amys. How long are we to sit here
+waiting for him, I wonder?"
+
+"What do you think of Herbert Spencer, Mr. Lashmar?" inquired May.
+
+Dyce's reply was rendered doubly unnecessary by the opening of the
+door, and the announcement of the awaited guest.
+
+"Willy! Willy!" cried Lady Ogram, with indulgent reproof. "You always
+used to be so punctual."
+
+The gentleman thus familiarly addressed had grey hair and walked with a
+stoop in the shoulders. His age was sixty, but he looked rather older.
+Lady Ogram, who had known him as a boy, still saw him in that light.
+His pleasant face, full of sagacity and good-humour, wore a gently
+deprecating smile as he stepped forward, and whether intentionally or
+not--he smoothed with one hand his long, grizzled beard.
+
+"This is military!" he exclaimed. "Are not a few minutes' grace granted
+to a man of peace, when he comes to eat your salt?--And how are you, my
+dear lady? How are you?"
+
+"Never was better in my life, Willy!" shrilled Lady Ogram, her voice
+slipping out of control in her excitement. "Do you know who this is?"
+
+"I could make a guess. The face speaks for itself."
+
+"Ha! You see the likeness!--May, shake hands with Sir William, and make
+friends with him; he and I knew each other a lifetime before you were
+born.--And this is Mr. Lashmar, our future Member for Hollingford."
+
+"If the voters are as kind to me as Lady Ogram," said Dyce, laughing.
+
+The baronet gave his hand, and regarded the young man with shrewd
+observation. Sir William had no part in public life, and was not
+predisposed in favour of parliamentary ambitions; he lived quietly in a
+London suburb, knowing only a few congenial people, occupying himself
+with the history of art, on which he was something of an authority. His
+father had been a friend of Sir Quentin Ogram; and thus arose his early
+familiarity with the lady of Rivenoak.
+
+They went to table in an adjoining room, and for a few minutes there
+was talk between the hostess and Sir William about common
+acquaintances. Lashmar, the while, kept turning his look towards Miss
+Tomalin. With his astonishment had begun to mingle feelings of interest
+and attraction. He compared Miss Tomalin's personal appearance with
+that of Constance Bride, and at once so hardened towards the latter
+that he could not bring his eyes to regard her again. At the same time
+he perceived, with gratification, that Lady Ogram's niece was not
+heedless of his presence; once at least their looks come to the
+encounter, with quick self-recovery on the young lady's part, and a
+conscious smile. Dyce began to think her very good-looking indeed. Sir
+William's remark recurred to him, and he saw an undeniable resemblance
+in the girl's features to those of Lady Ogram's early portrait. He grew
+nervously desirous to know something about her.
+
+Presently conversation directed itself towards the subject with which
+Lashmar was connected. Sir William appeared by no means eager to
+discuss political or social themes, but May Tomalin could not rest till
+they were brought forward, and her aunt, who seemed to have no desire
+but to please her and put her into prominence, helped them on.
+
+"Are you going to stand as a Socialist?" asked the baronet of Lashmar,
+with some surprise, when May's talk had sufficiently confused him.
+
+Dyce quietly explained (a shadow of the Toplady smile about his lips)
+that his Socialism was not Social-democracy.
+
+"For my own part," declared Sir William, "I want to hear a little more
+of men, and a little less of government. That we're moving into
+Socialism of one kind or another is plain enough, and it goes against
+the grain with me. I'm afraid we're losing our vigour as individuals.
+It's all very well to be a good citizen, but it's more important, don't
+you think, to be a man?"
+
+"I quite see your point, Sir William," said Lashmar, his eyes
+brightening as they always did when he found his opportunity for
+borrowed argument and learning. "Clearly there's an excess to be
+avoided; individuality mustn't be lost sight of. But I can make
+absolutely no distinction between the terms Man and Citizen. To my mind
+they are synonymous, for Man only came into being when he ceased to be
+animal by developing the idea of citizenship. In my view, the source of
+all our troubles is found in that commonly accepted duality. He didn't
+exist in the progressive ancient world. The dualism of Man and State
+began with the decline of Graeco-Roman civilisation, and was
+perpetuated by the teaching of Christianity. The philosophy of Epicurus
+and of Zeno an utter detachment from the business of mankind--prepared
+the way for the spirit of the Gospels. So, at length, we get our notion
+of Church and State--a separation ruinous to religion and making
+impossible anything like perfection in politics; it has thoroughly
+rooted in people's minds that fatal distinction between Man as a
+responsible soul and Man as a member of society. Our work is to restore
+the old monism. Very, very slowly, mankind is working towards it. A
+revolution greater than any of those commonly spoken of--so wide and
+deep that it isn't easily taken in even by students of history--a
+revolution which is the only hope of civilisation, has been going on
+since the close of the thirteenth century. We are just beginning to be
+dimly conscious of it. Perhaps in another century it will form the
+principle of Liberalism."
+
+The baronet heard all this with some surprise; he had not been prepared
+for such solidity of doctrine from Lady Ogram's candidate, and at the
+luncheon table. As for May Tomalin, she had listened delightedly. Her
+lips savoured the words "dualism" and "monism" of which she resolved to
+make brave use in her own argumentative displays. The first to speak
+was Constance.
+
+"We are getting on very quickly," she said, in her driest and most
+practical tone, "towards one ideal of Socialism. Look at the way in
+which municipalities are beginning to undertake, and sometimes
+monopolise, work which used to be left to private enterprize. Before
+long we shall have local authorities engaged in banking, pawnbroking,
+coal-supplying, tailoring, estate agency, printing--all these, and
+other undertakings, are already proposed."
+
+May cast a glance of good-natured envy at the speaker. How she wished
+she could display such acquaintance with public life. But the
+information was stored for future use.
+
+"Why, there you are!" exclaimed the baronet. "That's just what I'm
+afraid of. It's the beginning of tyranny. It'll mean the bad work of a
+monopoly, instead of the good to be had by free competition. You favour
+this kind of thing, Mr. Lashmar?"
+
+"In so far as it signifies growth of the ideas of citizenship, and of
+association. But it interests me much less than purely educational
+questions. Whatever influence I may gain will be used towards a
+thorough reconstruction of our system of popular schooling. I believe
+nothing serious can be done until we have a truly civic education for
+the masses of the people."
+
+This was the outcome of Lashmar's resolve to be practical, whilst
+adhering to his philosophy. He knew that it sounded well, this demand
+for educational reform; however vague in reality, it gave the ordinary
+hearer a quasi-intelligible phrase to remember and repeat. Sir William
+Amys was not proof against the plausibility of such words: he admitted
+that one might do worse than devote oneself to that question; popular
+schooling, heaven knew, being much in need of common-sense reform. Dyce
+tactfully pressed his advantage. He ridiculed the extravagance of
+educationalism run mad, its waste of public money, the harm it does
+from a social point of view; and, the longer he spoke, the better
+pleased was Sir William to hear him. Their hostess, silent and closely
+attentive, smiled with satisfaction. Constance, meanwhile, noted the
+countenance of May Tomalin, which exhibited the same kind of pleased
+approval.--Only a day or two ago, May, speaking on this subject, had
+expressed views diametrically opposite.
+
+After luncheon, Lady Ogram held Lashmar in talk, whilst the two young
+ladies conversed with the baronet apart. Dyce had hoped for a little
+gossip with Miss Tomalin, but no chance offered; discretion bade him
+take leave before Sir William had given sign of rising.
+
+"I don't know how long we shall be in town," said Lady Ogram, who did
+not seek to detain him, "but of course we shall see you again. We shall
+generally be at home at five o'clock."
+
+He had hoped for a more definite and a more cordial invitation. Issuing
+into Albemarle Street, he looked vaguely about him, and wondered how he
+should get through the rest of the afternoon. A dull sky hastened the
+failure of his spirits; when, in a few minutes, rain began to fall, he
+walked on under his umbrella, thoroughly cheerless and objectless. Then
+it struck him that he would go presently to Pont Street; Mrs. Toplady
+might help him to solve the mystery of Lady Ogram's niece.
+
+Confound Lady Ogram's niece! Her appearance could not have been more
+inopportune. The old woman was obviously quite taken up with her, and,
+as likely as not, would lose all her interest in politics. Here was the
+explanation of her not having answered his last long letter. Confound
+Miss--what was her foolish name?--Tomalin!
+
+And yet--and yet--there glimmered another aspect of the matter. Suppose
+Miss Tomalin followed her aunt's example, and saw in him a coming man,
+and seriously interested herself in his fortunes? Then, indeed, she
+would be by no means a superfluous young person; for who could say to
+what such interest might lead? Miss Tomalin would be her aunt's
+heiress, or so one might reasonably suppose. And she was a very pretty
+girl, as well as intelligent.
+
+Could it be that the real course of his destiny was only just beginning
+to reveal itself?
+
+By this time, he felt better. To pass an hour, he went into his club,
+read the papers, and looked, vainly, for Lord Dymchurch.
+
+Greatly to his surprise, he found the world-shunning nobleman in Mrs.
+Toplady's drawing-room; the hostess and he alone together--it was
+early--and seeming to have been engaged in rather intimate talk.
+
+"Oh, this is nice!" exclaimed Mrs. Toplady. "What have you to tell us?"
+
+"Little of interest, I'm afraid--except that I have lunched to-day with
+Lady Ogram and made the acquaintance of her niece."
+
+"We were speaking of her," said the hostess, with very pronounced
+mischief at the corner of her lips, and eyes excessively gracious.
+
+"You know Miss Tomalin?" Lashmar inquired, rather abruptly, of Lord
+Dymchurch.
+
+"I have met her once," was the colourless reply.
+
+Dyce wished to ask where and when, but of course could not. He resented
+this advantage of Lord Dymchurch.
+
+"She is very clever," the hostess was saying, "and quite charming. A
+Canadian, you know, by birth. Such a fresh way of looking at things; so
+bright and--"
+
+Other callers were announced. Lord Dymchurch looked his desire to
+escape, but sat on. You would have thought him a man with a troubled
+conscience.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+A few days later, Lashmar found on his breakfast table a copy of the
+_Hollingford Express_, blue-pencilled at an editorial paragraph which
+he read with interest. The leaded lines announced that Hollingford
+Liberalism was at length waking up, that a campaign was being quietly
+but vigorously organised, and that a meeting of active politicians
+would shortly be held for the purpose of confirming a candidature which
+had already met with approval in influential circles. The same post
+brought a letter from Mr. Breakspeare, "Will you," asked the editor,
+"name a convenient date for meeting your friends and supporters? Say,
+about the 20th of this month. I am working up enthusiasm. We shall take
+the public room at the Saracen's Head. Admission to be by invitation
+card. I write to Lady Ogram, and no doubt you will consult with her."
+
+This looked like business. Dyce reflected rather nervously that he
+would have to make a speech--a practical speech; he must define his
+political attitude; philosophical generalities would not serve in the
+public room at the Saracen's Head. Well, he had a fortnight to think
+about it. And here was an excuse for calling on Lady Ogram, of which he
+would avail himself at once.
+
+In the afternoon he went to Bunting's Hotel, but Lady Ogram was not at
+home. He inquired for Miss Bride, and was presently led up to the
+private drawing-room, where Constance sat writing. As they shook hands,
+their eyes scarcely met.
+
+"Can you spare me a few minutes?" asked the visitor. "There's something
+here I wanted to show Lady Ogram; but I shall be still more glad to
+talk it over with you."
+
+Constance took the newspaper and Breakspeare's note. As she read, her
+firm-set lips relaxed a little. She handed the papers back with a nod.
+
+"Has Lady Ogram heard?" Dyce asked.
+
+"Yes; she had a letter this morning, and I have answered it. She was
+pleased So far, so good. You have had Mrs. Toplady's card for the
+evening of the 13th?"
+
+"I have."
+
+"One of the Liberal whips will be there--an opportunity for you."
+
+Every time he saw her, Constance seemed to be drier and more laconic.
+Their intercourse promised to illustrate to the full his professed
+ideal of relation between man and woman in friendship; every note of
+difference in sex would soon be eliminated, if indeed that point were
+not already attained.
+
+"Won't you sit down?" asked Miss Bride, carelessly; for Dyce had thrown
+hat and stick aside, and was moving about with his hands in his pockets.
+
+"But you're busy."
+
+"Not particularly."
+
+"How is our friend?"
+
+"Lady Ogram? Pretty well, I think, but overtaxing herself. I don't
+think she'll be able to stay here long. It certainly wouldn't be wise."
+
+"Of course it's on her niece's account. By the bye--" Dyce paused
+before Constance's chair--"where has this niece sprung from? You told
+me she hadn't a relative in the world."
+
+"So she believed. Miss Tomalin is a recent discovery--the fruit of Mr.
+Kerchever's researches."
+
+"Ah! That's rather amusing. Lucky, I imagine, that she is such a
+presentable person. She might have been--"
+
+He checked himself significantly, and Constance allowed an absent smile
+to pass over her face.
+
+"I'm afraid," Dyce continued, "this change won't be quite pleasant to
+you?"
+
+"To me? It makes no difference--none whatever. Will you please sit
+down? I dislike to talk with anyone who keeps fidgeting about."
+
+One might have detected more than discomfort in Miss Bride's look and
+voice. A sudden flash of something very like anger shone in her eyes;
+but they were bent and veiled.
+
+"Let us talk about Hollingford," said Lashmar, drawing up a chair. "It
+begins to look as if things were really in train. Of course, I shall go
+down to talk to them. Will you help me in putting my programme
+together?"
+
+"Isn't that already done?"
+
+"Why, no. What do I care about their party questions? I'm sure your
+advice would be valuable. Could you find time to jot down a few ideas?"
+
+"If you think it any use, certainly. I can't promise to do it this
+evening; we have people to dine."
+
+Lashmar was secretly offended that Lady Ogram should give a
+dinner-party in which he had no place.
+
+"Anyone coming that I know?" he asked, off-hand.
+
+"Let me see. Yes, there's Mrs. Toplady--and Lord Dymchurch--"
+
+Dyce exclaimed:
+
+"What an extraordinary thing! Dymchurch, who never went anywhere, seems
+all at once to be living in the thick of the world. The other day, I
+found him at Mrs. Toplady's, drinking tea. Was it there he came to know
+Lady Ogram?"
+
+"Yes." Constance smiled. "Lady Ogram, you remember, much wished to meet
+him."
+
+"And he dines here? I can't understand it."
+
+"You are not very complimentary;" said Constance, with dry amusement.
+
+"You know what I mean. I shouldn't have thought Lady Ogram would have
+had much attraction for him."
+
+Miss Bride laughed, a laugh of all but genuine gaiety.
+
+"Hadn't we better talk about your programme?" she resumed, in an
+altered voice, as though her humour had suddenly improved; "I should
+take counsel with Mr. Breakspeare, if I were you. I fancy he likes to
+be consulted, and his activity will be none the less for it."
+
+Lashmar could not easily fix his thoughts on political tactics. He
+talked impatiently, all the time absorbed in another subject; and at
+the first pause he took his leave.
+
+Decidedly it offended him that he was left out from this evening's
+dinner-party. A suspicion, too, had broken upon his mind which he found
+very distasteful and perturbing. Lady Ogram must have particular
+reasons for thus cultivating Lord Dymchurch's acquaintance;
+conjecturing what they might be, he perceived how he had allowed
+himself to shape visions and dream dreams during the last day or two.
+It was foolish, as he now saw plainly enough; in ambition, one must
+discern the probable, and steady one's course thereby. All at once, he
+felt a strong dislike of Lord Dymchurch, and even a certain contempt.
+The man was not what he had thought him.
+
+Crossing the street at Piccadilly Circus, he ran before a hansom, and
+from the hansom was waved a hand, a voice in the same moment calling
+out his name. As a result of his stopping, he was very nearly run over
+by another cab; he escaped to the pavement; the hansom pulled up beside
+him, and he shook hands with Mrs. Woolstan.
+
+"Are you going anywhere?" she asked, her eyes very wide as they gazed
+at him.
+
+"Nowhere in particular."
+
+"Then do come with me, will you? I have to buy a present for Len's
+birthday, and I should be so glad of your help in choosing it."
+
+Dyce jumped into the vehicle, and, as his habit was, at once surveyed
+himself in the little looking-glass conveniently placed for that
+purpose. The inspection never gratified him, and to-day less than
+usual. Turning to his companion, he asked:
+
+"Does everybody look ugly in a hansom mirror?"
+
+"What a question! I'm sure I can't tell you."
+
+Iris had coloured a little. Her eyes involuntarily sought the slip of
+glass at her side of the seat, and the face she saw was assuredly not a
+flattering likeness. With brow knitted, she stared out into the street,
+and presently asked:
+
+"Have you seen Lady Ogram?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I thought you told me that she would have no one with her but her
+secretary? Why did you say that?"
+
+"Because I didn't know that she bed a newly-discovered niece. It seems
+that you have heard of it. Perhaps you have met her?"
+
+"Not yet; Mrs. Toplady told me."
+
+"And you take it for granted that I had deliberately concealed the
+niece from you?" said Lashmar, with an amused air. "Pray, why should I
+have done so?"
+
+"No, no, I thought nothing of the kind," replied Mrs. Woolstan, in a
+conciliating tone. "Indeed I didn't! It's only that I felt vexed not to
+have heard the story from you first. I thought you would have told it
+me as soon as possible--such an interesting thing as that."
+
+Lashmar declared that he had only known of Miss Tomalin's existence for
+a day or two, and had only heard the explanation of her appearance this
+very day. His companion asked for a description of the young lady, and
+he gave one remarkable for splenetic exaggeration.
+
+"You must have seen her in a hansom looking-glass," said Iris, smiling
+askance at him. "Mrs. Toplady's picture is very different. And the same
+applies to Miss Bride; I formed an idea of her from what you told me
+which doesn't answer at all to that given me by Mrs. Toplady."
+
+"Mrs. Toplady," replied Dyce, his lips reminiscent of Pont Street,
+"inclines to idealism, I have found. It's an amiable weakness, but one
+has to be on one's guard against it. Did she say anything about Lord
+Dymchurch?"
+
+"Nothing. Why?"
+
+Dyce seemed to reflect; then spoke as if confidentially.
+
+"I suspect there is a little conspiracy against the noble lord. From
+certain things that I have observed and heard, I think it probable that
+Lady Ogram wants to capture Dymchurch for her niece."
+
+A light shone upon the listener's countenance, and she panted eager
+exclamations.
+
+"Really? You think so? But I understood that he was so poor. How is it
+possible?"
+
+"Yes. Dymchurch is poor, I believe, but he is a lord. Lady Ogram is
+_not_ poor, and I fancy she would like above all things to end her life
+as aunt-in-law (if there be such a thing) of a peer. Her weakness, as
+we know, has always been for the aristocracy. She's a strong-minded
+woman in most things. I am quite sure she prides herself on belonging
+by birth to the lower class, and she knows that most aristocrats are
+imbeciles; for all that, she won't rest till she has found her niece a
+titled husband. This is my private conviction; take it for what it is
+worth."
+
+"But," cried Iris, satisfaction still shining on her face, "do you
+think there's the least chance that Lord Dymchurch will be caught?"
+
+"A week ago, I should have laughed at the suggestion. Now, I don't feel
+at all sure of his safety. He goes about to meet the girl. He's dining
+at their hotel to-night."
+
+"You take a great interest in it," said Mrs. Woolstan, her voice
+faltering a little.
+
+"Because I am so surprised and disappointed about Dymchurch. I thought
+better of him. I took him for a philosopher."
+
+"But Mrs. Toplady says the girl is charming, and very clever."
+
+"That's a matter of opinion. Doesn't Mrs. Toplady strike you as
+something of a busybody--a glorified busybody, of course?"
+
+"Oh, I like her! And she speaks very nicely of you."
+
+"I'm much obliged. But, after all, why should she speak otherwise than
+nicely of me?"
+
+Whilst Iris was meditating an answer to this question, the cab pulled
+up at a great shop. They alighted; the driver was bidden to wait; and
+along the alleys of the gleaming bazaar they sought a present suitable
+for Leonard Woolstan. To Lashmar it was a scarcely tolerable ennui; he
+had even more than the average man's hatred of shopping, and feminine
+indecision whipped him to contemptuous irritation. To give himself
+something to do, he looked about for a purchase on his own account,
+and, having made it, told Iris that this was a present from him to his
+former pupil.
+
+"Oh, how kind of you!" exclaimed the mother, regarding him tenderly.
+"How very kind of you! Len will be delighted, poor boy."
+
+They left the shop, and stood by the hansom.
+
+"Where are you going to now?" asked Iris.
+
+"Home, to work. I have to address a meeting at Hollingford on the 20th,
+and I must think out a sufficiency of harmless nonsense."
+
+"Really? A public meeting already? Couldn't I come and hear you?"
+
+Dyce explained the nature of the gathering.
+
+"But I shall see you before then," he added, helping her to enter the
+cab. "By the bye, don't be indiscreet with reference to what we spoke
+of just now."
+
+"Why of course not," answered Iris, her eyes fixed on his face as he
+drew back carelessly saluting.
+
+Though Lashmar had elaborated his story concerning Lord Dymchurch on
+the spur of the moment, he now thoroughly believed it himself, and the
+result was a restlessness of mind which no conviction of its utter
+absurdity could overcome. In vain did he remember that Lady Ogram had
+settled his destiny so far as the matter lay in _her_ hands, and that
+to displease the choleric old autocrat would be to overthrow in a
+moment the edifice of hope reared by her aid. The image of May Tomalin
+was constantly before his mind. Not that he felt himself sentimentally
+drawn to her; but she represented an opportunity which it annoyed him
+to feel that he would not, if he chose, be permitted to grasp. Miss
+Tomalin by no means satisfied his aspiration in the matter of marriage,
+whatever wealth she might have to bestow; he had always pictured a very
+lofty type of woman indeed, a being superb in every attribute when
+dreaming of his future spouse. But he enjoyed the sense of power, and
+was exasperated by a suggestion that any man could have a natural
+advantage over him. To this characteristic he owed the influence with
+women which had carried him so far, for there is nothing that better
+stands a man in his relations with the other sex than settled egoism
+serving restless ambition. This combination of qualities which all but
+every woman worship. Mrs. Toplady herself, she of the ironic smile and
+cynic intelligence, felt it a magnetic property in Dyce Lashmar's
+otherwise not very impressive person. On that account did she watch his
+pranks with so indulgent an eye, and give herself trouble to enlarge
+the scope of his entertaining activity. She knew, however, that the man
+was not cast in heroic mould; that he was capable of scruples, inclined
+to indolence; that he did not, after all, sufficiently believe in
+himself to go very far in the subjugation of others. Therefore she had
+never entertained the thought of seriously devoting herself to his
+cause, but was content to play with it until something more piquant
+should claim her attention.
+
+Mrs. Toplady had always wished for the coming of the very hero, the man
+without fear, without qualm, who should put our finicking civilisation
+under his feet. Her god was a compound of the blood-reeking conqueror
+and the diplomatist supreme in guile. For such a man she would have
+poured out her safe-invested treasure, enough rewarded with a nod of
+half-disdainful recognition. It vexed her to think that she might pass
+away before the appearance of that new actor on the human stage; his
+entrance was all but due, she felt assured. Ah! the world would be much
+more amusing presently, and she meanwhile was growing old.
+
+Her drawing-rooms on the evening of June 13th were crowded with
+representatives of Society. Lashmar arrived about ten o'clock, and his
+hostess had soon introduced him to two or three persons of political
+note, with each of whom he exchanged phrases of such appalling banality
+that he had much ado not to laugh in his interlocutor's face. The
+swelling current moved him along; he could only watch countenances and
+listen to dialogues as foolish as those in which he had taken part; a
+dizzying babblement filled the air, heavy with confusion of perfumes.
+Presently, having circled his way back towards the stair-head, he
+caught sight of Lord Dymchurch, who had newly entered; their eyes met,
+but Dymchurch, who wore a very absent look, gave no sign of
+recognition. Dyce pressed forward.
+
+"I hoped I might meet you here," he said.
+
+The other started, smiled nervously, and spoke in a confused way.
+
+"I thought it likely. Of course you know a great many of these people?"
+
+"Oh, a few. I had rather meet them anywhere than in such a crowd,
+though."
+
+"Wonderful, isn't it?" murmured Dymchurch, with a comical distress in
+his eyebrows. "Wonderful!"
+
+Good-naturedly nodding, he moved away, and was lost to sight. Dyce,
+holding his place near the entrance, perceived at length another face
+that he knew--that of a lady with whom he had recently dined at this
+house; in her company came Constance Bride and May Tomalin. He all but
+bounded to meet them. Constance looked well in a garb more ornate than
+Lashmar had yet seen her wearing; May, glowing with self-satisfaction,
+made a brilliant appearance. Their chaperon spoke with him; he learned
+that Lady Ogram did not feel quite equal to an occasion such as this,
+and had stayed at home. Miss Tomalin, eager to join in the talk,
+pressed before Constance.
+
+"Have you got your speech ready, Mr. Lashmar?" she asked, with
+sprightly condescension.
+
+"Quite. How sorry I am that you won't be able to enjoy that masterpiece
+of eloquence!"
+
+"Oh, but it will be reported. It must be reported, of course."
+
+The chaperon interposed, presenting to Miss Tomalin a gentleman who
+seemed very desirous of that honour, and Dyce stifled his annoyance in
+saying apart to Constance:
+
+"What barbarism this is! One might as well try to converse in the
+middle of the street at Charing Cross."
+
+"Certainly. But people don't come to converse," was the answer.
+
+"You enjoy this kind of thing, I fancy?"
+
+"I don't find it disagreeable."
+
+The chaperon and Miss Tomalin were moving away; May cast a look at
+Lashmar, but he was unconscious of it. Constance turned to follow her
+companions, and Dyce stood alone again.
+
+Half an hour later, the circling currents to which he surrendered
+himself brought him before a row of chairs, where sat the three ladies
+and, by the side of Miss Tomalin, Lord Dymchurch. May, flushed and
+bright-eyed, was talking at a great rate; she seemed to be laying down
+the law in some matter, and Dymchurch, respectfully bent towards her,
+listened with a thoughtful smile. Dyce approached, and spoke to
+Constance. A few moments afterwards, Lord Dymchurch rose, bowed, and
+withdrew; whereupon Lashmar asked Miss Tomalin's permission to take the
+vacant chair. It was granted rather absently; for the girl's eyes had
+furtively followed her late companion as he moved away, and she seemed
+more disposed to reflect than to begin a new conversation. This passed,
+however; soon she was talking politics with an air of omniscience which
+Lashmar could only envy.
+
+"May I take you down to the supper-room?" he asked presently.
+
+The chaperon and Miss Bride were engaged in conversation with a man who
+stood behind them.
+
+"Yes, let us go," said May, rising. "I'm thirsty."
+
+She spoke a word to the lady responsible for her, and swept off with
+Lashmar.
+
+"How delightful it is,". Dyce exclaimed, "to gather such a lot of
+interesting people!"
+
+"Isn't it!" May responded. "One feels really alive here. You would
+hardly believe--" she gave him a confidential look--"that this is my
+first season in London."
+
+"Indeed it isn't easy to believe," said Dyce, in the tone of compliment.
+
+"I always thought of a London season," pursued May, "as mere frivolity.
+Of course there is a great deal of that. But here one sees only
+cultured and serious people; it makes one feel how much hope there is
+for the world, in spite of everything. The common Socialists talk
+dreadful nonsense about Society; of course it's mere ignorance."
+
+"To be sure," Lashmar assented, with inward mirth. "Their views are
+inevitably so narrow.--How long do you stay in town?"
+
+"I'm afraid my aunt's health will oblige me to return to Rivenoak very
+soon. She has been seeing doctors. I don't know what they tell her, but
+I notice that she isn't quite herself this last day or two."
+
+"Wonderful old lady, isn't she?" Dyce exclaimed.
+
+"Oh, wonderful! You have known her for a long time, haven't you?"
+
+"No, not very long. But we have talked so much, and agree so well in
+our views, that I think of her as quite an old friend.--What can I get
+you? Do you like iced coffee?"
+
+Dyce seated her, and tended upon her as though no such thing as a
+"method" with women had ever entered his mind. His demeanour was
+lamentably old-fashioned. What it lacked in natural grace, Miss Tomalin
+was not critical enough to perceive.
+
+"How nice it will be," she suddenly remarked, "when you are in
+Parliament! Of course you will invite us to tea on the terrace, and all
+that kind of thing."
+
+"I'm sure I hope I shall have the chance. My election is by no means a
+certainty, you know. The Tories are very strong at Hollingford."
+
+"Oh, but we're all going to work for you. When we get back to Rivenoak,
+I shall begin a serious campaign. I could never live without some
+serious work of the social kind, and I look upon it as a great
+opportunity for civilising people. They must be taught that it is
+morally wrong to vote for such a man as Robb, and an absolute duty of
+citizenship to vote for you. How I shall enjoy it!"
+
+"You are very kind!"
+
+"Oh, don't think of it in that way!" exclaimed Miss Tomalin. "I have
+always thought more of principles than of persons. It isn't in my
+nature to take anything up unless I feel an absolute conviction that it
+is for the world's good. At Northampton I often offended people I liked
+by what they called my obstinacy when a principle was at stake. I don't
+want to praise myself, but I really can say that it is my nature to be
+earnest and thorough and disinterested."
+
+"Of that I am quite sure," said Lashmar, fervently.
+
+"And--to let me tell you--it is such a pleasure to feel that my
+opportunities will be so much greater than formerly." May was growing
+very intimate, but still kept her air of dignity, with its touch of
+condescension. "At Northampton, you know, I hadn't very much scope; now
+it will be different. What an important thing social position is! What
+power for good it gives one!"
+
+"Provided," put in her companion, "that one belongs to nature's
+aristocracy."
+
+"Well--yes--I suppose one must have the presumption to lay claim to
+that," returned May, with a little laugh.
+
+"Say, rather, the honesty, the simple courage. Self-depreciation,"
+added Dyce, "I have always regarded as a proof of littleness. People
+really called to do something never lose confidence in themselves, and
+have no false modesty about expressing it."
+
+"I'm sure that's very true. I heard once that someone at Northampton
+had called me conceited, and you can't think what a shock it gave me. I
+sat down, there and then, and asked myself whether I really was
+conceited, and my conscience assured me I was nothing of the kind. I
+settled it with myself, once for all. Since then, I have never cared
+what people said about me."
+
+"That's admirable!" murmured Dyce.
+
+"I am sure," went on the girl, with a grave archness, "that you too
+have known such an experience."
+
+"To tell the truth, I have," the philosopher admitted, bending his head
+a little.
+
+"I felt certain that you could understand me, or I should never have
+ventured to tell you such a thing.--There is Miss Bride!"
+
+Constance had taken a seat not far from them, and the man who had been
+talking with her upstairs was offering her refreshments. Presently, she
+caught Miss Tomalin's eye, and smiled; a minute or two after, she and
+her companion came forward to join the other pair, and all re-ascended
+to the drawing-rooms together. When he had restored his charge to her
+chaperon, Lashmar took the hint of discretion and retired into the
+throng. There amid, he encountered Iris Woolstan, her eyes wide in
+search.
+
+"So you _are_ here!" she exclaimed, with immediate change of
+countenance. "I despaired of ever seeing you. What a crush!"
+
+"Horrible, isn't it. I've had enough; I must breathe the air."
+
+"Oh, stay a few minutes. I know so few people. Are Lady Ogram and her
+niece here?"
+
+"Lady Ogram, I think not. I caught a glimpse of Miss Tomalin somewhere
+or other, sternly chaperoned."
+
+He lied gaily, for the talk with May had put him into a thoroughly
+blithe humour.
+
+"I should so like to see her," said Iris. "Don't you think you could
+point her out, if we went about a little."
+
+"Let us look for her by all means. Have you been to the supper-room?
+She may be there."
+
+They turned to move slowly towards the staircase. Before reaching the
+door, they were met by Mrs. Toplady, at her side the gentleman who had
+been Miss Bride's companion downstairs.
+
+"How fortunate!" exclaimed the hostess to Mrs. Woolstan. "I so want you
+to know Miss Tomalin, and Mr. Rossendale can take us to her."
+
+Iris voiced her delight, and looked at Lashmar, inviting him to come
+too. But Dyce stood rigid, an unnatural smile on his features; then he
+drew back, turned, and was lost to view.
+
+Five minutes later, he quitted the house. It was raining lightly.
+Whilst he looked upward to give the cabman his address, drops fell upon
+his face, and he found their coolness pleasant.
+
+During the ride home, he indulged a limitless wrath against Iris
+Woolstan. That busybody had spoilt his evening, had thrown disturbance
+into his mind just when it was enjoying the cheeriest hopes. As likely
+as not she would learn that he had had a long talk with May Tomalin,
+and, seeing the girl, she would put her own interpretation on the fib
+he had told her. What a nuisance it was to have to do with these
+feminine creatures, all fuss and impulsiveness and sentimentality! It
+would not surprise him in the least if she made a scene about this
+evening. Already, the other day, her tone when she accused him of
+giving her a false idea of Lady Ogram's niece proved the possibility of
+nonsensical trouble. The thing was a gross absurdity. Had he not, from
+the very beginning of their friendship, been careful to adopt a tone as
+uncompromising as man could use? Had he not applied to her his "method"
+in all its rigour? What right had she to worry him with idiotic
+jealousies? Could anyone have behaved more honourably than he
+throughout their intercourse? Why, the average man--
+
+His debt? What had that to do with the matter? The very fact of his
+accepting a loan of money from her emphasised the dry nature of their
+relations. That money must quickly be repaid, or he would have no
+peace. The woman began to presume upon his indebtedness, he saw that
+clearly. Her tone had been different, ever since.
+
+Deuce take the silly creature! She had made him thoroughly
+uncomfortable. What it was to have delicate sensibilities!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Having an imperious Will and an intelligence merely practical, it was
+natural for Lady Ogram to imagine that, even as she imposed her
+authority on others in outward things, so had she sway over their
+minds; what she willed that others should think, that, she took for
+granted, they thought. Seeing herself as an entirely beneficent
+potentate; unable to distinguish for a moment between her arbitrary
+impulses and the well-meaning motives which often directed her; she
+assumed as perfectly natural that all within her sphere of action must
+regard her with grateful submissiveness. So, for example, having
+decided that a marriage between Dyce Lashmar and Constance Bride would
+be a very good thing for both, and purposing large generosity towards
+them when it should have come about, she found it very difficult to
+conceive that either of her young friends could take any other view of
+the matter. When observation obliged her to doubt the correctness of
+her first impressions, she grew only the more determined that things
+should be as she wished. Since the coming of May Tomalin, a new
+reason--or rather, emotion--fortified her resolve; seeing a
+possibility, even a likelihood, that May and Lashmar might attract each
+other, and having very definite views with regard to her niece, she was
+impatient for a declared betrothal of Constance and the aspiring
+politician. Their mutual aloofness irritated her more than she allowed
+to be seen, and the moment approached when she could no longer endure
+such playing with her serious purposes.
+
+She knew that she had committed an imprudence in coming to London and
+entering, however moderately, into the excitements of the season. A day
+or two sufficed to prove the danger she was incurring; but she refused
+to take count of symptoms. With a weakness which did not lack its
+pathos, she had, for the first time in her life, put what she called "a
+touch of colour" onto her cheeks, and the result so pleased her that
+she all but forgot the artificiality of this late bloom; each morning,
+when her maid had performed the office, she viewed herself with
+satisfaction, and was even heard to remark that London evidently did
+her good. Lady Ogram tried to believe that even age and disease were
+amenable to her control.
+
+She consulted doctors--for the form; behaving with cold civility during
+their visit, and scornfully satirising them when they were gone. None
+the less did she entertain friends at luncheon or dinner, and often
+talked to them as if years of activity and enjoyment lay before her.
+"Wonderful old lady!" was the remark of most who left her presence; but
+some exchanged glances and let fall ominous words.
+
+On the evening when May and Constance were at the crush in Pont Street,
+she would not go to bed, but lay on a couch in her chamber,
+occasionally dozing, more often wide awake and quivering with the
+agitation of her mind. It was one o'clock when the girls returned, but
+she had given orders that Miss Tomalin should at once come to see her,
+and May, flushed, resplendent, entered the dimly-lighted room.
+
+"Well, have you enjoyed yourself?"
+
+The voice was a shock to May's ears. After those to which she had been
+listening, it sounded sepulchral.
+
+"Very much indeed. A delightful time!"
+
+No token of affection had a place in their greeting. The old autocrat
+could not bring herself to offer, or ask for, tenderness; but in her
+eyes, always expressive of admiration when she looked at May, might
+have been read something like hunger of the heart.
+
+"Sit down, my dear." Even this form of address was exceptional. "Tell
+me all about it. Who was there?"
+
+"Hundreds of people! I can't remember half of those I was introduced
+to. Lord Dymchurch--"
+
+"Ha! Lord Dymchurch came? And you had a talk with him?"
+
+"Oh, yes. I find he takes a great interest in Old English, and we
+talked about Chaucer and so on for a long time. He isn't quite so well
+up in it as I am; I put him right on one or two points, and he seemed
+quite grateful. He's very nice, isn't he? There's something so quiet
+and good-natured about him. I thought perhaps he would have offered to
+take me down to supper, but he didn't. Perhaps he didn't think of it; I
+fancy he's rather absentminded."
+
+Lady Ogram knitted her brows.
+
+"Who did go down with you?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Lashmar. He was very amusing. Then I talked with--"
+
+"Wait a minute. Did you only have one talk with Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+"Only one. He doesn't care for 'At Homes.' Mrs. Toplady says he hardly
+ever goes anywhere, and she fancies"--May laughed lightly--"that he
+came to-night only because _I_ was going to be there. Do you think it
+likely, aunt?"
+
+"Why, I don't think it impossible," replied Lady Ogram, in a tone of
+relief. "I have known more unlikely things. And suppose it were true?"
+
+"Oh, it's very complimentary, of course."
+
+The old eyes dwelt upon the young face, and with a puzzled expression.
+Notwithstanding her own character, it was difficult for Lady Ogram to
+imagine that the girl seriously regarded herself as superior to Lord
+Dymchurch.
+
+"Perhaps it's more than a compliment," she said, in rather a mumbling
+voice; and she added, with an effort to speak distinctly, "I suppose
+you didn't tire him with that talk about Old English?"
+
+"Tire him?" May exclaimed. "Way, he was delighted!"
+
+"But he seems to have been satisfied with the one talk."
+
+"Oh, he went away because Mr. Lashmar came up, that was all. He's very
+modest; perhaps he thought he oughtn't to prevent me from talking to
+other people."
+
+Lady Ogram looked annoyed and worried.
+
+"If I were you, May, I shouldn't talk about Old English next time you
+see Lord Dymchurch. Men don't care to find themselves at school in a
+drawing-room."
+
+"I assure you, aunt, that is not my only subject of conversation,"
+replied May, amused and dignified. "And I'm perfectly certain that it
+was just the thing for Lord Dymchurch. He has a serious mind, and I
+like him to know that mine is the same."
+
+"That's all right, of course. I dare say you know best what pleases
+him. And I think it very probable indeed, May, that he went to Pont
+Street just in the hope of meeting you."
+
+"Perhaps so."
+
+May smiled, and seemed to take the thing as very natural; whereupon
+Lady Ogram again looked puzzled.
+
+"Well, go to bed, May. I'm very glad Lord Dymchurch was there; very
+glad. Go to bed, and sleep as late as you like. I'm glad you've enjoyed
+yourself, and I'm very glad Lord Dymchurch was there--very."
+
+The voice had become so senile, so indistinct, that May could hardly
+catch what it said. She lightly kissed her aunt's cheek--a ceremony
+that passed between them only when decorum seemed to demand it--and
+left the room.
+
+On the following morning, Dyce Lashmar received a telegram, couched
+thus:
+
+
+"Please call at Bunting's Hotel at 3 this afternoon."
+
+
+In order to respond to this summons, he had to break an engagement; but
+he did it willingly. Around the hotel in Albemarle Street circled all
+his thoughts, and he desired nothing more than to direct his steps
+thither. Arriving with perfect punctuality, he was shown into Lady
+Ogram's drawing-room, and found Lady Ogram alone. Artificial complexion
+notwithstanding, the stern old visage wore to-day a look as of nature
+all but spent. At Lashmar's entrance, his hostess did not move; sunk
+together in her chair, head drooping forward, she viewed him from under
+her eyebrows: even to give her hand when he stood before her seemed
+almost too great an effort, and the shrivelled lips scarce made audible
+her bidding that he should be seated.
+
+"You are well, I hope?" said Dyce, feeling uncomfortable, but affecting
+to see nothing unusual in the face before him.
+
+Lady Ogram nodded, impatiently. There was a moment's silence; then,
+turning her gaze upon him, she said abruptly, in a harsh croak:
+
+"What are you waiting for?"
+
+Lashmar felt a cold touch along his spine. He thought the ghastly old
+woman had lost her senses, that she was either mad or delirious. Yet
+her gaze had nothing wild; on the contrary, it searched him with all
+the wonted keenness.
+
+"Waiting--? I'm afraid I don't understand--"
+
+"Why haven't you done what you know I wish?" pursued the untuneful
+voice, now better controlled. "I'm speaking of Constance Bride."
+
+Relieved on one side, Dyce fell into trouble on the other.
+
+"To tell you the truth, Lady Ogram," he answered, with his air of
+utmost candour, "I have found no encouragement to take the step of
+which you are thinking. I'm afraid I know only too well what the result
+would be."
+
+"You know nothing about it."
+
+Lady Ogram moved. As always, a hint of opposition increased her force.
+She was suffering acute physical pain, which appeared in every line of
+her face, and in the rigid muscles of her arms as she supported herself
+on the arms of the chair.
+
+"Answer me this," she went on--and her utterance had something which
+told of those far-off days before education and refined society had
+softened her tongue. "Will you see Miss Bride this afternoon, and make
+her an offer of marriage? Are you willing? Just answer me yes or no."
+
+Dyce replied mechanically and smiled as he replied.
+
+"I am quite willing, Lady Ogram. I only wish I could feel assured that
+Miss Bride--"
+
+He was rudely interrupted.
+
+"Don't talk, but listen to me." For a moment the lips went on moving,
+yet gave no sound; then words came again. "I've told you once already
+about Constance, what I think of her, and what I intend for her. I
+needn't go over all that again. As for you, I think I've given proof
+that I wish you well. I was led to it at first because I saw that
+Constance liked you; now I wish you well for your own sake, and you may
+trust me to do what I can to help you on. But till a man a married, no
+one can say what he'll make of his life. You've plenty of brains, more
+than most men, but I don't think you've got too much of what I call
+backbone. If you make a fool of yourself--as most men do--in marriage,
+it's all up with you. I want to see you safe. Go where you will, you'll
+find no better wife, better in every way for _you_, than Constance
+Bride. You want a woman with plenty of common sense as well as uncommon
+ability; the kind of woman that'll keep you going steadily--up--up! Do
+you understand me?"
+
+The effort with which she spoke was terrible. Her face began to shine
+with moisture, and her mouth seemed to be parched. Lashmar must have
+been of much sterner stuff for these vehement and rough-cut sentences
+to make no impression upon him; he was held by the dark, fierce eye,
+and felt in his heart that he had heard truths.
+
+"And mind this," continued Lady Ogram, leaning towards him.
+"Constance's marriage alters nothing in what I had planned for her
+before I knew you. She'll have her duties quite apart from your
+interests and all you aim at. I know her; I'm not afraid to trust her,
+even when she's married. She's honest--and that's what can be said of
+few women. This morning I had a talk with her. She knows, now, the
+responsibility I want her to undertake, and she isn't afraid of it. I
+said nothing to her about _you_; not a word: but, when you speak to
+her, she'll understand what was in my mind. So let us get things
+settled, and have no more bother about it. On Saturday"--it was three
+days hence--"I go back to Rivenoak; I've enough of London; I want to be
+quiet. You are to come down with us. You've business at Hollingford on
+the 20th, and you ought to see more of the Hollingford people."
+
+Whatever Lady Ogram had proposed (or rather dictated) Dyce would have
+agreed to. He was under the authority of her eye and voice. The
+prospect of being down at Rivenoak, and there, of necessity, living in
+daily communication with May Tomalin, helped him to disregard the other
+features of his position. He gave a cheerful assent.
+
+"Now go away for half an hour," said Lady Ogram. "Then come back, and
+ask for Miss Bride, and you'll find her here."
+
+She was at the end of her strength, and could barely make the last
+words audible. Dyce pressed her hand silently, and withdrew.
+
+After the imposed interval, he returned from a ramble in Piccadilly,
+where he had seen nothing, and was conducted again to the drawing-room.
+There Constance sat reading. She was perfectly calm, entirely herself,
+and, as Lashmar entered, she looked up with the usual smile.
+
+"Have you been out this afternoon?" he began by asking.
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+"You went on business of Lady Ogram's?"
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+Dyce gave no answer. He laid aside his hat and stick, sat down not far
+from Constance, and looked at her steadily.
+
+"I have something rather odd to say to you. As we are both rational
+persons, I shall talk quite freely, and explain to you exactly the
+position in which I find myself. It's a queer position, to say the
+least. When I was at Rivenoak, on the last day of my visit, Lady Ogram
+had a confidential talk with me; your name came prominently into it,
+and I went away with certain vague impressions which have kept me, ever
+since, in a good deal of uneasiness. This afternoon, I have had another
+private conversation with Lady Ogram. Again your name had a prominent
+part in it, and this time there was no vagueness whatever in the
+communication made to me. I was bidden, in plain terms, to make you an
+offer of marriage."
+
+Constance drooped her eyes, but gave no other sign of disturbance.
+
+"Now," resumed Dyce, leaning forward with hands clasped between his
+knees, "before I say anything more about this matter as it concerns
+you, I had better tell you what I think about our friend. I feel pretty
+sure that she has a very short time to live; it wouldn't surprise me if
+it were a question of days, but in any case I am convinced she won't
+live for a month. What is your opinion?"
+
+"I fancy you are right," answered the other, gravely. "If so, this
+rather grotesque situation becomes more manageable. It is fortunate
+that you and I know each other so well, and have the habit of
+straightforward speech. I may assume, no doubt, that, from the very
+first, our friendship was misinterpreted by Lady Ogram; reasonable
+relations between man and woman are so very rare, and, in this case,
+the observer was no very acute psychologist. I feel sure she is
+actuated by the kindest motives; but what seems to her my inexplicable
+delay has been too much for her temper, and at last there was nothing
+for it but to deal roundly with me. One may suspect, too, that she
+feels she has not much time to spare. Having made up her mind that we
+are to marry, she wants to see the thing settled. Looking at it
+philosophically, I suppose one may admit that her views and her
+behaviour are intelligible. Meanwhile, you and I find ourselves in a
+very awkward position. We must talk it over--don't you think?--quite
+simply, and decide what is best to do."
+
+Constance listened, her eyes conning the carpet. There was silence for
+a minute, then she spoke.
+
+"What did Lady Ogram tell you about me?"
+
+"She repeated in vague terms something she had already said at
+Rivenoak. It seems that you are to undertake some great
+responsibility--to receive some proof of her confidence which will
+affect all the rest of your life. More than that I don't know, but I
+understand that there has been a conversation between you, in which
+everything was fully explained."
+
+Constance nodded. After a moment's reflection she raised her eyes to
+Lashmar's, and intently regarded him; her expression was one of anxiety
+severely controlled.
+
+"You shall know what that responsibility is," she said, with a just
+perceptible tremor in her voice. "Lady Ogram, like a good many other
+people nowadays, has more money than she knows what to do with. For
+many years, I think, she has been troubled by a feeling that a woman
+rich as she ought to make some extraordinary use of her riches--ought
+to set an example, in short, to the wealthy world. But she never could
+discover the best way of doing this. She has an independent mind, and
+likes to strike out ways for herself. Ordinary Charities didn't satisfy
+her; to tell the truth, she wanted not only to do substantial good, but
+to do it in a way which should perpetuate her name--cause her to be
+more talked about after her death than she has been in her lifetime.
+Time went on, and she still could hit upon nothing brilliant; all she
+had decided was to build and endow a great hospital at Hollingford, to
+be called by her name, and this, for several reasons, she kept
+postponing. Then came her acquaintance with me--you know the story. She
+was troubling about the decay of the village, and trying to hit on
+remedies. Well, I had the good luck to suggest the paper-mill, and it
+was a success, and Lady Ogram at once had a great opinion of me. From
+that day--she tells me--the thought grew in her mind that, instead of
+devoting all her wealth, by will, to definite purposes, she would leave
+a certain portion of it to _me_, to be used by me for purposes of
+public good. I, in short"--Constance smiled nervously--"was to be sole
+and uncontrolled trustee of a great fund, which would be used, after
+her death, just as it might have been had she gone on living. The idea
+is rather fine, it seems to me; it could only have originated in a mind
+capable of very generous thought, generous in every sense of the word.
+It implied remarkable confidence, such as few people, especially few
+women, are capable of. It strikes me as rather pathetic, too--the
+feeling that she would continue to live in another being, not a mere
+inheritor of her money, but a true representative of her mind, thinking
+and acting as she would do, always consulting her memory, desiring her
+approval. Do you see what I mean?"
+
+"Of course I do," answered Dyce, meditatively. "Yes, it's fine. It
+increases my respect for our friend."
+
+"I have always respected her," said Constance, "and I am sorry now that
+I did not respect her more. Often she has irritated me, and in bad
+temper I have spoken thoughtlessly. I remember that letter I wrote you,
+before you first came to Rivenoak; it was silly, and, I'm afraid,
+rather vulgar."
+
+"Nothing of the kind," interposed Lashmar. "It was very clever. You
+couldn't be vulgar if you tried."
+
+"Have you the letter still?"
+
+"Of course I have."
+
+"Then do me the kindness to destroy it--will you?"
+
+"If you wish."
+
+"I do, seriously. Burn the thing, as soon as you get home."
+
+"Very well."
+
+They avoided each-other's look, and there was a rather long pause.
+
+"I'll go on with my story," said Constance, in a voice still under
+studious control. "All this happened when Lady Ogram thought she had no
+living relative. One fine day, Mr. Kerchever came down with news of
+Miss Tomalin, and straightway the world was altered. Lady Ogram had a
+natural heiress, and one in whom she delighted. Everything had to be
+reconsidered. The great hospital became a dream. She wanted May Tomalin
+to be rich, very rich, to marry brilliantly. I have always suspected
+that Lady Ogram looked upon her life as a sort of revenge on the
+aristocratic class for the poverty and ignorance of her own people; did
+anything of the kind ever occur to you?"
+
+"Was her family really mean?"
+
+"Everyone says so. Mrs. Gallantry tells me that our illustrious M. P.
+has made laborious searches, hoping to prove something scandalous. Of
+course she tells it as a proof of Mr. Robb's unscrupulous hatred of
+Lady Ogram. I daresay the truth is that she came of a low class. At all
+events, Miss Tomalin, who represents the family in a progressive stage,
+is to establish its glory for ever. One understands. It's very human."
+
+Lashmar wore the Toplady smile.
+
+"It never occurred to our friend," he said, "that her niece might
+undertake the great trust instead of you?"
+
+"She has spoken to me quite frankly about that. The trust cannot be so
+great as it would have been, but it remains with me. Miss Tomalin, it
+'nay be hoped, will play not quite an ordinary part in the fashionable
+world; she has ideas of her own, and"--the voice was modulated--"some
+faith in herself. But my position is different, and perhaps my mind.
+Lady Ogram assures me that her faith in me, and her hopes, have
+suffered no change. For one thing, the mill is to become my property.
+Then--"
+
+She hesitated, and her eyes passed over the listener's face. Lashmar
+was very attentive.
+
+"There's no need to go into details," she added quickly. "Lady Ogram
+told me everything, saying she felt that the time had come for doing
+so. And I accepted the trust."
+
+"Without knowing, however," said Dyce, "the not unimportant condition
+which her mind attached to it."
+
+"There was no condition, expressed or reserved."
+
+Constance's tone had become hard again. Her eyes were averted, her lips
+set in their firmest lines.
+
+"Are you quite sure of that?"
+
+"Quite," was the decisive reply.
+
+"How do you reconcile that with what has passed today between Lady
+Ogram and me?"
+
+"It was between Lady Ogram and _you_," said Constance, subduing her
+voice.
+
+"I see. You mean that I alone am concerned; that your position will in
+no case be affected?"
+
+"Yes, I mean that," answered Constance, quietly.
+
+Lashmar thought for a moment, then moved on his chair, and spoke in a
+low tone, which seemed addressed to his hearer's sympathy.
+
+"Perhaps you are right. Probably you are. But there is one thing of
+which _I_ feel every assurance. If it becomes plain that her project
+must come to nothing, Lady Ogram's interest in me is at an end. I may
+say good-bye to Hollingford."
+
+"You are mistaken," replied Constance, in a voice almost of
+indifference.
+
+"Well, the question will soon be decided." Lashmar seemed to submit
+himself to the inevitable. "I shall write to Lady Ogram, telling her
+the result of our conversation. We shall see how she takes it."
+
+He moved as if about to rise, but only turned his chair slightly aside.
+Constance was regarding him from under her brows. She spoke in her most
+businesslike tone.
+
+"It was this that you came to tell me?"
+
+"Why, no. It wasn't that at all."
+
+"What had you in mind, then?"
+
+"I was going to ask if you would marry me--or rather, if you would
+promise to--or rather, if you would make believe to marry me. I thought
+that, under the circumstances, it was a justifiable thing to do, for I
+fancied your future, as well as mine, was at stake. Seeing our friend's
+condition, it appeared to me that a formal engagement between us would
+be a kindness to her, and involve no serious consequences for us. But
+the case is altered. You being secure against Lady Ogram's displeasure,
+I have, of course, no right to ask you to take a part in such a
+proceeding--which naturally you would feel to be unworthy of you. All I
+have to do is to thank you for your efforts on my behalf. Who knows? I
+_may_ hold my own at Hollingford. But at Rivenoak it's all over with
+me."
+
+He stood up, and assumed an attitude of resigned dignity, smiling to
+himself. But Constance kept her seat, her eyes on the ground.
+
+"I believe you were going down on Saturday?" she said.
+
+"So it was arranged. Well, I mustn't stay--"
+
+Constance rose, and he offered his hand.
+
+"Between us, it makes no difference, I hope?" said Dyce, with an
+emphasised effort of cheeriness. "Unless you think me a paltry fellow,
+ready to do anything to get on?"
+
+"I don't think that," replied Constance, quietly.
+
+"But you feel that what I was going to ask would have been rather a
+severe test of friendship?"
+
+"Under the circumstances, I could have pardoned you."
+
+"But you wouldn't have got beyond forgiveness?"
+
+Constance smiled coldly, her look wandering.
+
+"How can I tell?"
+
+"But--oh, never mind! Good-bye, for the present."
+
+He pressed her hand again, and turned away. Before he had reached the
+door, Constance's voice arrested him.
+
+"Mr. Lashmar--"
+
+He looked at her as if with disinterested inquiry.
+
+"Think well before you take any irreparable step. It would be a pity."
+
+Dyce moved towards her again.
+
+"Why, what choice have I? The position is impossible. If you hadn't
+said those unlucky words about being so sure--"
+
+"I don't see that they make the slightest difference," answered
+Constance, her eyebrows raised. "If you had intended a genuine offer of
+marriage--yes, perhaps. But as all you meant was to ask me to save the
+situation, with no harm to anybody, and the certainty of giving great
+pleasure to our friend--"
+
+"You see it in that light?" cried Lashmar, flinging away his hat. "You
+really think I should be justified? You are not offended?"
+
+"I credit myself with a certain measure of common sense," answered
+Constance.
+
+"Then you will allow me to tell Lady Ogram that there is an engagement?"
+
+"You may tell her so, if you like."
+
+He seized her hand, and pressed his lips upon it. But, scarce had he
+done so, when Constance drew it brusquely away.
+
+"There is no need to play our comedy in private," she said, with cold
+reproof. "And I hope that at all times you will use the discretion that
+is owing to me."
+
+"If I don't, I shall deserve to fall into worse difficulties than
+ever," cried Lashmar.
+
+"As, for instance, to find yourself under the necessity of making your
+mock contract a real one--which would be sufficiently tragic."
+
+Constance spoke with a laugh, and thereupon, before Dyce could make any
+rejoinder, walked from the room.
+
+The philosopher stood embarrassed. "What did she mean by that?" he
+asked himself. He had never felt on very solid ground in his dealings
+with Constance; had never felt sure in his reading of her character,
+his interpretation of her ways and looks and speeches. An odd thing
+that he should have been betrayed by his sense of triumphant diplomacy
+into that foolish excess. And he remembered that it was the second such
+indiscretion, though this time, happily, not so compromising as his
+youthful extravagance at Alverholme.
+
+What if Lady Ogram, feeling that her end drew near, called for their
+speedy marriage? Was it the thought of such possibility that had
+supplied Constance with her sharp-edged jest? If she could laugh, the
+risk did not seem to her very dreadful. And to him?
+
+He could not make up his mind on the point.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Lord Dymchurch was at a critical moment of his life.
+
+Discontent, the malady of the age, had taken hold upon him. No ignoble
+form of the disease; for his mind, naturally in accord with generous
+thoughts, repelled every suggestion which he recognised as of unworthy
+origin, and no man saw more clearly how much there was of vanity and of
+evil in the unrest which rules our time. He was possessed by that
+turbid idealism which, in the tumult of a day without conscious
+guidance, is the peril of gentle souls. Looking out upon the world, he
+seemed to himself to be the one idle man in a toiling and aspiring
+multitude; for, however astray the energy of most, activity was visible
+on every side, and in activity--so he told himself--lay man's only
+hope. He alone did nothing. Wearing his title like a fool's cap, he
+mooned in by-paths which had become a maze. Was it not the foolish
+title that bemused and disabled him? Without it, would he not long ago
+have gone to work like other men, and had his part in the onward
+struggle? Discontented with himself, ill at ease in his social
+position, reproachfully minded towards the ancestors who had ruined
+him, he fell into that most dangerous mood of the cultured and
+conscientious man, a feverish inclination for practical experiment in
+life.
+
+His age was two and thirty. A decade ago he had dreamt of
+distinguishing himself in the Chamber of Peers; why should poverty bar
+the way of intellect and zeal? Experience taught him that, though money
+might not be indispensable to such a career as he imagined, the lack of
+it was only to be supplied by powers such as he certainly did not
+possess. Abashed at the thought of his presumption he withdrew
+altogether from the seat to which his birth entitled him, and at the
+same time ceased to appear in Society. He had the temper of a student,
+and among his books he soon found consolation for the first
+disappointments of youth. Study, however, led him by degrees to all the
+questions rife in the world about him; with the inevitable result that
+his maturer thought turned back upon things he fancied himself to have
+outgrown. His time had been wasted. At thirty-two all he had clearly
+learnt was a regret for vanished years.
+
+He resisted as a temptation the philosophic quietism which had been his
+strength and his pride. From the pages of Marcus Aurelius, which he had
+almost by heart, one passage only was allowed to dwell with him: "When
+thou art hard to be stirred up and awaked out of thy sleep, admonish
+thyself and call to mind that to perform actions tending to the common
+good is that which thine own proper constitution, and that which the
+nature of man, do require." Morning and night, the question with him
+became, what could he do in the cause of civilisation? And about this
+time it chanced that he made the acquaintance of Dyce Lashmar. He
+listened, presently, to the bio-sociological theory of human life,
+believing it to be Lashmar's own, and finding in it a great deal that
+was not only intellectually fruitful, but strong in appeal to his
+sympathies. Here he saw the reconciliation of his aristocratic
+prejudices--which he had little hope of ever overcoming--with the
+humanitarian emotion and conviction which were also a natural part of
+his being. All this did but contribute to his disquiet. No longer
+occupied with definite studies, he often felt time heavy on his hands,
+and saw himself more obnoxious than ever to the charge of idleness.
+Lashmar, though possibly his ambition had some alloy of self-seeking,
+gave an example of intellect applied to the world's behoof; especially
+did his views on education, developed in a recent talk at the club,
+strike Dymchurch as commendable and likely to have influence. He asked
+nothing better than an opportunity of devoting himself to a movement
+for educational reform. The abstract now disgusted him well nigh as
+much as the too grossly actual. Thus, chancing to open Shelley, he
+found with surprise that the poet of his adolescence not merely left
+him cold, but seemed verbose and tedious.
+
+Some anxiety about his private affairs aided this mental tendency. Some
+time ago, he had been appealed to by the tenant of his Kentish farm for
+a reduction of rent, which, on consideration of the facts submitted to
+him, he felt unable to refuse. The farmer was now dead, and it was not
+without trouble that the land had been leased again on the same reduced
+terms; moreover, the new tenant seemed to be a not very satisfactory
+man, and Dymchurch had to consider the possibility that this part of
+his small income might become uncertain, or fail him altogether. Now
+and then he entertained the thought of studying agriculture, living
+upon his farm, and earning bread in the sweat of his brow; but a little
+talk with practical men showed him all the difficulties of such an
+undertaking. So far as his own day-to-day life was concerned, he felt
+small need of money; but it constantly worried him to think of his
+sisters down in Somerset, their best years going by, not indeed in
+actual want, but with so little of the brightness or hope natural to
+ladies of their birth. They did not appear unhappy; like him, they had
+a preference for the tranquil mode of life; none the less, he saw how
+different everything would have been with them but for their narrow
+means, and, after each visit to the silent meadow-circled house, he
+came away reproaching himself for his inertness.
+
+The invitation to Lashmar's restaurant-dinner annoyed him a little, for
+casual company was by no means to his taste; when it was over, he felt
+glad that he had come, and more than ever fretted in spirit about his
+personal insignificance, his uselessness in the scheme of things. He
+was growing to hate the meaningless symbol which distinguished him from
+ordinary men; the sight of an envelope addressed to him stirred his
+spleen, for it looked like deliberate mockery. How if he cast away this
+empty lordship? Might it not be the breaking down of a barrier between
+him and real life? In doing so, what duty would he renounce? Who cared
+a snap of the fingers whether he signed himself "Dymchurch" or "Walter
+Fallowfield?" It was long enough since the barony of Dymchurch had
+justified its existence by any public service, and, as most people
+knew, its private record had small dignity. The likelihood was that he
+would never marry, and, unless either of his sisters did so, every day
+a more improbable thing, the title might fall into happy oblivion.
+What, in deed, did such titles mean nowadays? They were a silly
+anachronism, absurdly in contradiction with that scientific teaching
+which rules our lives. Lashmar, of course, was right in his demand for
+a new aristocracy to oust the old, an aristocracy of nature, of the
+born leaders of men. It might be that he had some claim to a humble
+position in that spiritual hierarchy, and perhaps the one manifest way
+to make proof of it was by flinging aside his tinsel privilege--an
+example, a precedent, to the like-minded of his caste.
+
+Mrs. Toplady had begged him to come and see her. Mrs. Toplady, vaguely
+known to him by name, would, but a short time ago, have turned him to
+flight; having talked with her at the restaurant, he inclined to think
+her a very intelligent and bright-witted woman, the kind of woman who
+did a service to Society by keeping it in touch with modern ideas.
+After a little uneasy hesitation, he betook himself to Pont Street.
+Next, he accepted an invitation to dine there, and found himself in the
+company of an old Lady Ogram, of whom he had never heard, and a girl
+with an odd name, her niece, who rather amused him. Calling presently
+in Pont Street, to discharge his obligation of ceremony, he found Mrs.
+Toplady alone, and heard from her, in easy, half-confidential chat, a
+great deal about Lady Ogram and Miss Tomalin, information such as he
+would never himself have sought, but which, set off by his hostess's
+pleasant manner, entertained and somewhat interested him. For the young
+lady and her aged relative shone in no common light as Mrs. Toplady
+exhibited them. The baronet's widow became one of the most remarkable
+women of her time, all the more remarkable because of lowly origin;
+Miss Tomalin, heiress of a great fortune, had pure colonial blood in
+her veins, yet pursued with delightful zeal the finest culture of an
+old civilisation. As Mrs. Toplady talked thus, the door opened to
+admit--Mr. Lashmar, and there was an end of confidences for that day.
+
+So far, Dymchurch had yielded without much reflection to the friendly
+pressure which brought him among strangers and disturbed his habits of
+seclusion. These dinners and afternoon calls had no importance; very
+soon he would be going down into Somerset, where it might be hoped that
+he would think out the problems which worried him, and arrive at some
+clear decision about the future. But when he found himself,
+reluctantly, yet as it seemed inevitably, setting forth to Mrs.
+Toplady's "At Home," the reasonable man in him grew restive. Why was he
+guilty of this weakness? Years had passed since he did anything so
+foolish as to leave home towards the middle of the night for the
+purpose of hustling amid a crowd of unknown people in staircases and
+drawing-rooms. He saw himself as the victim of sudden fatuity, own
+brother to the longest-eared of fashion's worshippers. Assuredly this
+should be the last of his concessions.
+
+Inwardly pishing and pshawing, he drifted about the rooms till brought
+up beside Miss Tomalin. Then his mood changed. This girl, with her
+queer mixture of naivete and conceit and examination-room pedantry,
+decidedly amused him. Was she a type of the young Canadian? He knew
+nothing of her life at Northampton, and thought she had come over from
+Canada only a year or two ago. Yes, she amused him. By contrast with
+the drawing-room young lady, of whom he had always been afraid, she
+seemed to have originality of character, spontaneity of talk. Of course
+her learning was not exactly profound; the quality of her mind left
+something to be desired; her breeding fell short of what is demanded by
+the fastidious; but there was something healthy and genuine about her,
+which made these deficiencies a matter for indulgence rather than for
+censure. And then, she was by no means ill-looking. Once or twice he
+caught an aspect of her features which had a certain impressiveness;
+with nature cast in a more serious mould, she might have become a
+really beautiful woman.
+
+Just as he had found courage to turn the talk in a personal direction,
+with an inquiry about Canadian life, he saw the approach of Dyce
+Lashmar. A glance at Miss Tomalin showed him that she had perceived the
+young politician, who was looking with manifest interest at her.
+Abruptly he rose. He had thought of asking the girl to let him take her
+to the supper-room, but at the sight of Lashmar he did not hesitate for
+a moment about retreating. And at once he quitted the house.
+
+Dymchurch had never inclined to tender experiences; his life so far was
+without romance. Women more often amused than interested him; his
+humorous disposition found play among their lighter characteristics,
+and on the other hand--natural complement of humour--he felt a certain
+awe of the mysterious in their being. Except his own sisters, whom,
+naturally enough, he regarded as quite exceptional persons, he had
+never been on terms of intimacy with any woman of the educated world.
+Regarding marriage as impracticable--for he had always shrunk from the
+thought of accepting money with a wife--he gave as little heed as
+possible to the other sex, tried to leave it altogether out of account
+in his musings and reasonings upon existence. Frankly he said to
+himself that he knew nothing about women, and that he was just as
+likely to be wrong as right in any theory he might form about their
+place in the world, their dues, their possibilities. By temper, he
+leaned to the old way of regarding them; women militant, women in the
+public eye, were on the whole unpleasing to him. But he was satisfied
+with an occasional laugh at these extravagances, and heard with
+tolerable patience anyone who pleaded the cause of female emancipation.
+In brief, women lay beyond the circle of his interests.
+
+The explanation of his abrupt withdrawal on Lashmar's appearance was,
+simply, that he all at once imagined a private understanding between
+his political friend and Miss Tomalin. The possibility had not hitherto
+occurred to him: he had given too little thought to Lady Ogram's niece.
+Now, of a sudden, it flashed upon him that Lashmar was seeking the girl
+in marriage, perhaps had already won her favour. The thought that
+Lashmar might perchance regard him as a rival pricked his pride; not
+for a moment could he rest under that misconstruction. He left the
+field clear, and drew breath like a man who has shaken off an
+embarrassment.
+
+On the way home he saw how natural it was that such a man as Lashmar
+should woo Miss Tomalin. He might be a little too good for her; yet
+there was no knowing. That half grim, half grotesque Lady Ogram had
+evidently taken Lashmar under her wing, and probably would make no
+objection to the alliance; perhaps she had even projected it. Utterly
+without idle self-consciousness, Dymchurch had perceived no special
+significance in Mrs. Toplady's social advances to him. The sense of
+poverty was so persistent in his mind that he had never seen himself as
+a possible object of matrimonial intrigue; nor had he ever come in
+contact with a social rank where such designs must have been forced on
+his notice. Well, his "season" was over; he laughed as he looked back
+upon it. When Lashmar and Miss Tomalin were married, he might or might
+not see something of them. The man had ideas: it remained to be proved
+whether his strength was equal to his ambitions.
+
+A few days later, Dymchurch heard that one of his sisters was not very
+well. She had caught a cold, and could not shake it off. This decided
+him to plan a summer holiday. He wrote and asked whether the girls
+would go with him to a certain quiet spot high in the Alps, and how
+soon they could leave home. The answer came that they would prefer not
+to go away until the middle of July, as a friend was about to visit
+them, whom they hoped to keep for two or three weeks. Disappointed at
+the delay, Dymchurch tried to settle down to his books; but books had
+lost their savour. He was consumed by dreary indolence.
+
+Then came a note from Mrs. Toplady. He knew the writing, and opened the
+envelope with a petulant grimace, muttering "No, no, no!"
+
+"Dear Lord Dymchurch," wrote his correspondent, "I wonder whether you
+are going to the performance of 'As You Like It' at Lady Honeybourne's
+on the 24th? It promises to be very good. If only they have fine
+weather, the play will be a real delight in that exquisite Surrey
+woodland. I do so hope we may meet you there. By we I mean Miss Tomalin
+and myself. Lady Ogram has gone back into the country, her health being
+unequal to London strain, and her niece stays with me for a little. You
+have heard, no doubt, of the engagement of Mr. Lashmar and Miss Bride.
+I knew it was coming. They are admirably suited to each other. To-day
+Mr. Lashmar gives his address at Hollingford, and I hope for good news
+tomorrow--"
+
+The reader hung suspended at this point. Miss Bride? Who was Miss
+Bride? Oh, the lady whom he had seen once or twice with Lady Ogram; her
+secretary, had he not heard? Why, then he was altogether wrong in his
+conjecture about Lashmar and Miss Tomalin. He smiled at the error,
+characteristic of such an acute observer of social life!
+
+He had received a card of invitation to Lady Honeybourne's, but had by
+no means thought of going down into Surrey to see an amateur open-air
+performance of "As You Like It." After all, was it not a way of passing
+an afternoon? And would not Miss Tomalin's running comment have a
+piquancy all its own? She would have "got up" the play, would be
+prepared with various readings, with philological and archaeological
+illustrations. Dymchurch smiled again as he thought of it, and already
+was half decided to go.
+
+A copy of the _Hollingford Express_, posted, no doubt, by Lashmar,
+informed him that the private meeting of Liberals at the Saracen's Head
+had resulted in acceptance of his friend's candidature. There was a
+long report of Lashmar's speech, which he read critically, and not
+without envy. Whether he came to be elected or not, Lashmar was doing
+something; he knew the joy of activity, of putting out his strength, of
+moving others by the energy of his mind. This morning, his Highgate
+lodgings seemed to Dymchurch, a very cave in the wilderness. The
+comforts and the graceful things amid which he lived had bat all
+meaning; unless, indeed, they symbolised a dilettante decadence of
+which he ought to be heartily ashamed. He ran over the contents of the
+provincial newspaper, and in every column found something that rebuked
+him. These municipal proceedings, what zeal and capability they
+implied! Was it not better, a thousand times, to be excited about the
+scheme for paving "Burgess Lane" than to sit here amid books and
+pictures, and do nothing at all but smoke one's favourite mixture? The
+world hummed about him with industry, with triumphant effort; and he
+alone of all men could put his hand to nothing.
+
+His thought somehow turned upon Miss Tomalin. What was it that he found
+so piquant in that half-educated, indifferently-bred girl? Might it not
+be that she represented an order of Society with which he had no
+acquaintance, that vague multitude between the refined middle class and
+the rude toilers, which, as he knew theoretically, played such an
+important part in modern civilisation? Among these people, energy was
+naked, motives were direct. There the strength and the desires of the
+people became vocal; they must be studied, if one wished to know the
+trend of things. Had he not seen it remarked somewhere that from this
+class sprang nearly all the younger representatives of literature and
+art, the poets, novelists, journalists of to-day; all the vigorous
+young workers in science? Lashmar, he felt sure, was but one remove
+from it. That busy and aspiring multitude would furnish, most likely,
+by far the greater part of the spiritual aristocracy for which our
+world was waiting.
+
+From this point of view, the girl had a new interest. She was destined,
+perhaps, to be the mother of some great man. He hoped she would not
+marry foolishly; the wealth she must soon inherit hardly favoured her
+chances in this respect; doubtless she would be surrounded by
+unprincipled money-hunters. On the whole, it seemed rather a pity that
+Lashmar had not chosen and won her; there would have been a fitness,
+one felt, in that alliance. At the same time, Lashmar's selection of an
+undowered mate spoke well for him. For it was to be presumed that Lady
+Ogram's secretary had no very brilliant prospects. Certainly she did
+not make much impression at the first glance; one would take her for a
+sensible, thoughtful woman, nothing more.
+
+After a lapse of twenty-four hours, he replied to Mrs. Toplady. Yes, if
+the weather were not too discouraging, he hoped to be at Lady
+Honeybourne's. He added that the fact of Lashmar's engagement had come
+as news to him.
+
+So, after all, his "season" was not yet over. But perhaps kind Jupiter
+would send rain, and make the murdering of Shakespeare an
+impossibility. Now and then he tapped his barometer, which for some
+days had hovered about "change," the sky meanwhile being clouded. On
+the eve of Midsummer Day there was every sign of unseasonable weather.
+Dymchurch told himself, with a certain persistency, that he was glad.
+
+Yet the morrow broke fair, and at mid-day was steadily bright.
+Throughout the morning, Dymchurch held himself at remorseless study,
+and was rewarded by the approval of his conscience; whence, perhaps,
+the cheerfulness of resignation with which he made ready to keep his
+engagement at the Surrey house. With a half smile on his meditative
+face, he went out into the sunshine. He was thinking of Rosalind in
+Arden.
+
+Lord Honeybourne and he had been schoolfellows; they were together at
+Oxford, but not in the same set, for Dymchurch read, and the other
+ostentatiously idled. What was the use of exerting oneself in any
+way--asked the Hon. L. F. T. Medwin-Burton--when a man had only an
+income of four or five thousand in prospect, fruit of a wretchedly
+encumbered estate which every year depreciated? Having left the
+University without a degree--his only notable performance a very
+amusing speech at the Union, proposing the abolition of the House of
+Lords--he allied himself with young Sir Evan Hungerford in a
+journalistic enterprise, and for a year or two the bi-monthly _Skylark_
+supplied matter for public mirth, not without occasional scandal. Then
+came his succession to the title, and Viscount Honeybourne, as the
+papers made known, presently set forth on travel which was to cover all
+British territory. He came back with an American wife, an incalculable
+fortune, and much knowledge of Greater Britain; moreover he had gained
+a serious spirit, and henceforth devoted himself to Colonial affairs.
+His young wife--she was seventeen at the time of her
+marriage--straightway took a conspicuous place in English Society, her
+note being intellectual and social earnestness.
+
+The play was to begin at three o'clock. Arriving half an hour before,
+Dymchurch found his hostess in the open-air theatre, beset with
+managerial cares, whilst her company, already dressed for their parts,
+sat together under the greenwood tree, and a few guests strayed about
+the grass. He had met Lady Honeybourne only once, and that a couple of
+years ago; with difficulty they recognised each other. Lord
+Honeybourne, she told him, had hoped to be here, but the missing of a
+steamer (he had run over, just for a day or two, to Jamaica) would make
+him too late.
+
+"You know Miss Tomalin?" the lady added with a bright smile. "She has
+been lunching with me, and we are great friends. I wish I had known her
+sooner; she would have had a part. There she is, talking with Miss
+Dolbey.--Yes, of course we have had to cut the play down. It's
+shocking, but there was no choice."
+
+Dymchurch got away from this chatter, and stood aside. Then Miss
+Tomalin's radiant glance discovered him; she broke from the lady with
+whom she was conversing, and stepped in his direction with a look of
+frank pleasure.
+
+"How do you do, Lord Dymchurch! I came early, to lunch with Lady
+Honeybourne and some of her actors. We have been getting on together
+splendidly. Let us settle our places. Mrs. Toplady may be a little
+late; we must keep a chair for her. Which do you prefer?--Isn't it
+admirably managed? This big tree will give shade all the time. Suppose
+we take these chairs? Of course we needn't sit down at once. Put your
+cane across two, and I'll tie my handkerchief on the third. There! Now
+we're safe.--Did you ever see an open-air play before? Charming idea,
+isn't it? You don't know Lady Honeybourne very well, I think? Oh, she's
+very bright, and has lots of ideas. I think we shall be real friends.
+She must come down to Rivenoak in August."
+
+"I'm sorry," interposed Dymchurch, as soon as there came a pause, "that
+Lady Ogram had to leave town so soon."
+
+"Oh, it was too much for her. I advised her very seriously, as soon as
+she began to feel exhausted, not to stay another day. Indeed, I
+couldn't have allowed it; I'm convinced it was dangerous, in her state
+of health. I hear from her that she is already much better. Rivenoak is
+such a delightfully quiet place, and such excellent air. Did you see a
+report of Mr. Lashmar's speech? Rather good, I thought. Perhaps just a
+little too vague: the fault I hoped he would avoid. But of course it's
+very difficult to adapt oneself all at once to electioneering
+necessities. Mr. Lashmar is theoretical; of course that is his strong
+point."
+
+Dymchurch listened with an air of respectful, though smiling,
+attention. The girl amused him more than ever. Really, she had such a
+pleasant voice that her limitless flow of words might well be pardoned,
+even enjoyed.
+
+"Lady Honeybourne and I have been talking about the condition of the
+poor. She has capital ideas, but not much experience. Of course I am
+able to speak with some authority: I saw so much of the poor at
+Northampton."
+
+Once or twice Dymchurch had heard mention of Northampton in May's talk,
+but his extreme discretion had withheld him from putting a question on
+the subject. Catching his look, she saw inquiry in it.
+
+"You know that I lived at Northampton, before I made my home at
+Rivenoak? Oh, I thought that I had told you all about that."
+
+Acting on her aunt's counsel, approved by Mrs. Toplady, May was careful
+not to let it be perceived by casual acquaintances that, until a month
+ago, she had been an absolute stranger to her titled relative. At the
+same time, it was necessary to avoid any appearance of mystery, and
+people were given to understand that she had passed some years with her
+family in the midland town.
+
+"And what work did you take part in?" asked her companion.
+
+"It was a scheme of my own, mainly educational. I'll tell you all about
+it, when we have time. What a lot of people all at once! Ah, it's the
+2.40 train that brings them. You came by the one before? There's Mrs.
+Toplady; so she isn't late, after all."
+
+The audience began to seat itself. A string-band, under a marquee aside
+from the plot of smooth turf which represented the stage, began to
+discourse old English music; on this subject, as soon as they were
+seated side by side, Dymchurch had the full benefit of May's recently
+acquired learning. How quick the girl was in gathering any kind of
+information! And how intelligently she gave it forth! Babble as she
+might, one could never (thought the amused peer) detect a note of
+vulgarity; at worst, there was excess of ingenuousness; a fault, after
+all, in the right direction. She was very young, and had little
+experience of Society; in a year or two these surface blemishes would
+be polished away. The important thing was that she did sincerely care
+for things of the mind, and had a mind to apply to them.
+
+He sat on Miss Tomalin's right hand; on her left was Mrs. Toplady. The
+humourist of Pont Street, as she listened to the talk beside her,
+smiled very roguishly indeed. Seldom had anything so surprised and
+entertained her as the progress of intimacy between May and Lord
+Dymchurch But she was vexed, as well as puzzled, by Lashmar's recent
+step, which seemed to deprive the comedy of an element on which she had
+counted. Perhaps not, however; it might be that the real complication
+was only just beginning.
+
+"As You Like It," was timed for a couple of hours, intervals included.
+Miss Tomalin did not fail to whisper her neighbours at every noteworthy
+omission from the text, and once or twice she was moved to a pained
+protest. Her criticism of the actors was indulgent; she felt the value
+of her praise, but was equally aware of the weight of her censure. So
+the sunny afternoon went by. Here and there a spectator nodded
+drowsily; others conversed under their breath--not of the bard of Avon.
+The air was full of that insect humming which is nature's music at high
+summer-tide.
+
+Upon the final applause followed welcome refreshment. A table laden
+with dainties gleamed upon the sward. Dymchurch looked after his
+ladies; but the elder of them soon wandered off amid the friendly
+throng, and May, who ate and drank with enjoyment, was able to give her
+companion the promised description of her activity at Northampton. The
+listener smiled and smiled; had much ado, indeed, not to exhibit open
+gaiety; but ever and again his eyes rested on the girl's countenance,
+and its animation so pleased him that he saw even in her absurdities a
+spirit of good.
+
+"You never did any work of that sort?" inquired May, regarding him from
+a good-natured height.
+
+"Never, I'm sorry to say."
+
+"But don't you sometimes feel as if it were a duty?"
+
+"I often feel I ought to do _something_," answered Dymchurch, in a
+graver voice. "But whether I could be of any use among the poor, is
+doubtful."
+
+"No, I hardly think you could," said May, reflectively. "Your social
+position doesn't allow of that. Of course you help to make laws, which
+is more important."
+
+"If I really did so; but I don't. I have no more part in law-making
+than you have."
+
+"But, why not?" asked May, gazing at him in surprise. "Surely _that_ is
+a duty about which you can have no doubt."
+
+"I neglect _all_ duties," he answered.
+
+"How strange! Is it your principle? You are not an Anarchist, Lord
+Dymchurch?"
+
+"Practically, I fancy that's just what I am. Theoretically, no.
+Suppose," he added, with his pleasantest smile, "you advise me as to
+what use I can make of my life."
+
+The man was speaking without control of his tongue. He had sunk into a
+limp passivity; in part, it might be, the result of the drowsily
+humming air; in part, a sort of hypnotism due to May's talk and the
+feminine perfume which breathed from her. He understood the idleness of
+what fell from his lips, but it pleased him to be idle.
+Therewithal--strange contradiction--he was trying to persuade himself
+that, more likely than not, this chattering girl had it in her power to
+make him an active, useful man, to draw him out of his mouldy hermitage
+and set him in the world's broad daylight. The analogy of Lord
+Honeybourne came into his mind; Lord Honeybourne, whose marriage had
+been the turning-point of his career, and whose wife, in many respects,
+bore a resemblance to May Tomalin.
+
+"I shall have to think very seriously about it," May was replying. "But
+nothing could interest me more. You don't feel at all inclined for
+public life?"
+
+Their dialogue was interrupted by the hostess, who came forward with a
+gentleman she wished to present to Miss Tomalin. Hearing the name--Mr.
+Langtoft--Dymchurch regarded him with curiosity, and, moving aside with
+Lady Honeybourne as she withdrew, he inquired whether this was _the_
+Mr. Langtoft.
+
+"It is," the hostess answered. "Do you take an interest in his work?
+Would you like to know him?"
+
+Dymchurch declined the introduction for the present, but he was glad to
+have seen the man, just now frequently spoken of in newspapers, much
+lauded, and vehemently attacked. A wealthy manufacturer, practically
+lord of a swarming township in Lancashire, Mr. Langtoft was trying to
+get into his own hands the education of all the lower-class children
+growing up around his mill chimneys. He disapproved of the
+board-school; he looked with still less favour on the schools of the
+clergy; and, regardless of expense, was establishing schools of his
+own, where what he called "civic instruction" was gratuitously
+imparted. The idea closely resembled that which Dyce Lashmar had
+borrowed from his French sociologist, and Dyce had lately been in
+correspondence with Mr. Langtoft. Lashmar's name, indeed, was now
+passing between the reformer and Miss Tomalin.
+
+"His work," said Dymchurch to himself. "Yes, everybody has his
+work--except me."
+
+And the impulse to experiment in life grew so strong with him, that he
+had to go apart under the trees, and pace nervously about; idle talk
+being no longer endurable.
+
+The gathering began to thin. He had noted the train by which he would
+return to London, and a glance at his watch told him that he must start
+if he would reach the station in time. Moving towards the group of
+people about the hostess, he encountered Mrs. Toplady.
+
+"Have you a cab?" she asked. "If not, there's plenty of room in ours."
+
+Dymchurch would have liked to refuse, but hesitation undid him. Face to
+face with Mrs. Toplady and May, he drove to the station, and, as was
+inevitable, performed the rest of the journey in their company. The
+afternoon had tired him; alone, he would have closed his eyes, and
+tried to shut out the kaleidoscopic sensation which resulted from
+theatrical costumes, brilliant illustrations of the feminine mode, blue
+sky and sunny glades; but May Tomalin was as fresh as if new-risen, and
+still talked, talked. Enthusiastic in admiration of Lady Honeybourne,
+she heard with much interest that Dymchurch's acquaintance with the
+Viscount went back to Harrow days.
+
+"That's what I envy you," she exclaimed, "your public school and
+University education! They make us feel our inferiority, and it isn't
+fair."
+
+Admission of inferiority was so unexpected a thing on Miss Tomalin's
+lips, that her interlocutor glanced at her. Mrs. Toplady, in her corner
+of the railway carriage, seemed to be smiling over a newspaper article.
+
+"The feeling must be very transitory," said Dymchurch, with humorous
+arch of brows.
+
+"Oh, it doesn't trouble me very often. I know I should have done just
+as much as men do, if I had had the chance."
+
+"Considerably more, no doubt, than either Honeybourne or I."
+
+"You have never really put out your strength, I'm afraid, Lord
+Dymchurch," said May, regarding him with her candid smile. "Never in
+anything--have you?"
+
+"No," he responded, in a like tone. "A trifler--always a trifler!"
+
+"But if you _know_ it--"
+
+Something in his look made her pause. She looked out of the window,
+before adding:
+
+"Still, I don't think it's quite true. The first time I saw you, I felt
+you were very serious, and that you had thought much. You rather
+overawed me."
+
+Dymchurch laughed. In her corner, Mrs. Toplady still found matter for
+ironic smiling as she rustled over the evening journal; and the train
+swept on towards London.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+For a week after Lady Ogram's return, Dr. Baldwin called daily at
+Rivenoak. His patient, he said, was suffering from over-exertion; had
+she listened to his advice, she would never have gone to London; the
+marvel was that such an imprudence had had no worse results. Lady Ogram
+herself of course refused to take this view of the matter; she was
+perfectly well, only a little tired, and, as the hot nights interfered
+with her sleep just now, she rested during the greater part of the day,
+seeing Lashmar for half an hour each afternoon in the little
+drawing-room upstairs. Her friendliness with Dyce had much increased;
+when he entered the room, she greeted him almost affectionately, and
+their talk was always of his brilliant future.
+
+"I want to see you safely in Parliament," she said one day. "I can't
+expect to live till you've made your name; that isn't done so quickly.
+But I shall see you squash Robb, and that's something."
+
+Of his success at Hollingford she seemed never to entertain a doubt,
+and Lashmar, though by no means so sanguine, said nothing to discourage
+her. His eye noted ominous changes in her aspect, and her way of
+talking, even the sound of her voice, made plain to him that she was
+very rapidly losing the reserve of force which kept her alive.
+Constance, who was on friendly terms with the doctor, learnt enough of
+the true state of things to make her significantly grave after each
+visit; she and Dyce, naturally, exchanged no remark on the subject.
+
+"What do your parents say?" Lady Ogram asked of Lashmar, during one of
+their conversations.
+
+"They are delighted. Especially my mother, who has always been very
+ambitious for me."
+
+"But I mean about your engagement."
+
+Dyce had of course omitted all mention of Constance in his letters to
+Alverholme.
+
+"They give their approval," he replied, "because they have confidence
+in my judgment. I fancy," he added with a modest smile, "that their
+ambition, in this respect, is not altogether satisfied, but--I have
+said nothing whatever to them about the peculiarity of Constance's
+position; I didn't feel justified in doing so."
+
+"You may tell them everything," said Lady Ogram, graciously.
+
+She one day received a letter from Mrs. Toplady, which gave her great
+satisfaction. It seemed to re-establish her vigour of mind and body;
+she came downstairs, lunched with her young friends, and talked of
+going to Wales.
+
+"May is enjoying herself greatly; she must stay a little longer. The
+day before yesterday she was at a garden party at Lady Honeybourne's,
+where they acted 'As You Like It' in the open air."
+
+"There was mention of it yesterday in the papers," remarked Lashmar.
+
+"Yes, yes; I saw. And May's name among the guests--of course, of
+course. I notice that Lord Dymchurch was there too."
+
+She ended with a quavering laugh, unexpected and rather uncanny.
+
+"And the much-discussed Mr. Langtoft," put in Constance, after a keen
+look at the mirthful hippocratic face.
+
+"Langtoft, yes," said Dyce. "I don't quite know what to think of that
+fellow. There seems to me something not quite genuine about him. What
+is he doing at Lady Honeybourne's garden party? It looks like
+tuft-hunting--don't you think, Constance?"
+
+Dyce was secretly annoyed that an idea of his own (that is to say, from
+his own French philosopher) should be put into practice by someone else
+before he could assert his claim to it. Very vexatious that Langtoft's
+activity was dragged into public notice just at this moment.
+
+"I don't at all like the tone of his last letter to you," said
+Constance. "He writes in a very flippant way, not a bit like a man in
+earnest."
+
+Not long ago, Miss Bride's opinion of Langtoft would have been quite
+different. Now, she was disposed to say things that Dyce Lashmar liked
+to hear. Dyce had remarked the change in her; it flattered him, but
+caused him at the same time some uneasiness.
+
+Inevitably, they passed much time together. On the journey from London,
+Constance had asked him whether he would not like to begin cycling. He
+received the suggestion with careless good-humour. At Rivenoak,
+Constance returned to it, insisted upon it, and, as he had little to
+do, Dyce went into Hollingford for lessons; in a week's time he could
+ride, and, on a brand-new bicycle of the most approved make,
+accompanied his nominally betrothed about the country ways. Constance
+evidently enjoyed their rides together. She was much more amiable in
+her demeanour, more cheerful in mind; she dropped the habit of irony,
+and talked hopefully of Lashmar's prospects.
+
+"What's the news from Breakspeare?" she inquired, as they were
+pedalling softly along an easy road one afternoon, Dyce having spent
+the morning in Hollingford.
+
+"Oh, he's a prancing optimist," Dyce replied. "He sees everything
+rose-colour--or pretends to, I'm not quite sure which. If Dobbin the
+grocer meets him in the street, and says he's going to vote Liberal at
+next election, Breakspeare sings the Paean."
+
+"I notice that you seem rather doubtful, lately," said Constance, her
+eyes upon him.
+
+"Well, you know, there is a good deal of doubt. It depends so much on
+what happens between now and the dissolution."
+
+He entered into political detail, showing the forces arrayed against
+him, dwelling on the in-grained Toryism of Hollingford, or, as he
+called it, the burgesses' _Robbish_ mind.
+
+"There's no use, is there, in blinking facts?"
+
+"Of course not. It's what I never do, as I think you are aware. We must
+remember that to contest the seat is something. It makes you known. If
+you don't win, you will wait for the next chance--not necessarily here."
+
+Dyce had observed that the pronoun "we" was rather frequently on
+Constance's lips. She was identifying their interests.
+
+"True," he admitted. "Look at that magnificent sycamore!"
+
+"Yes; but I shouldn't have known it was a sycamore. How is it you know
+trees so well?"
+
+"That's my father's doing," replied Dyce. "He used to teach me them
+when I was a youngster."
+
+"Mine was thinking more about social statistics. I knew the number of
+paupers in London before I had learnt to distinguish between an ash and
+an oak. Do you ever hear from your father?"
+
+"Now and then," said Lashmar, his machine wobbling a little, for he had
+not yet perfect command of it, and fell into some peril if his thoughts
+strayed. "They want me to run over to Alverholme presently. Perhaps I
+may go next week."
+
+Constance was silent. They wheeled on, without speaking, for some
+minutes. Then Dyce asked:
+
+"How long does Lady Ogram wish me to stay here?"
+
+"I don't quite know. Are you in any hurry to get away?"
+
+"Not at all. Only, if I'm soon going back to London, I should take
+Alverholme on the journey. Would you probe our friend for me?"
+
+"I'll try."
+
+At this time, they were both reading a book of Nietzsche. That
+philosopher had only just fallen into their hands, though of course
+they had heard much of him. Lashmar found the matter considerably to
+his taste, though he ridiculed the form. Nietzsche's individualism was,
+up to a certain point, in full harmony with the tone of his mind; he
+enjoyed this frank contempt of the average man, persuaded that his own
+place was on the seat of the lofty, and that disdain of the humdrum, in
+life or in speculation, had always been his strong point. To be sure,
+he counted himself Nietzsche's superior as a moralist; as a thinker, he
+imagined himself much more scientific. But, having regard to his
+circumstances and his hopes, this glorification of unscrupulous
+strength came opportunely. Refining away its grosser aspects, Dyce took
+the philosophy to heart--much more sincerely than he had taken to
+himself the humanitarian bio-sociology on which he sought to build his
+reputation.
+
+And Constance, for her part, was hardly less interested in Nietzsche.
+She, too, secretly liked this insistence on the right of the strong,
+for she felt herself one of them. She, too, for all her occupation with
+social reform, was at core a thorough individualist, desiring far less
+the general good than her own attainment of celebrity as a public
+benefactress. Nietzsche spoke to her instincts, as he does to those of
+a multitude of men and women, hungry for fame, avid of popular
+applause. But she, like Lashmar, criticised her philosopher from a
+moral height. She did not own to herself the intimacy of his appeal to
+her.
+
+"He'll do a great deal of harm in the world," she said, this same
+afternoon, as Dyce and she drank tea together. "The jingo impulse, and
+all sorts of forces making for animalism, will get strength from him,
+directly or indirectly. It's the negation of all we are working for,
+you and I."
+
+"Of course it is," Dyce replied, in a voice of conviction. "We have to
+fight against him." He added, after a pause, "There is a truth in him,
+of course; but it's one of those truths which are dangerous to the
+generality of men."
+
+Constance assented, with a certain vagueness.
+
+"Of course. And he delivers his message so brutally."
+
+"That, no doubt, increases its chance of acceptance. The weak, who
+don't know how else to assert, themselves, tend naturally to brutality.
+Carlyle taught pretty much the same thing, at bottom; but his humour
+and his puritanism made the effect different. Besides, the time wasn't
+ripe then for the doctrine of irresponsible force; religion hadn't
+utterly perished in the masses of men, as it has now. Given a world
+without religious faith, in full social revolution, with possibilities
+of wealth and power dangled before every man's eyes--what can you
+expect but the prevalences of a more or less ferocious egoism? We, who
+are _not_ egoists"--he looked into his companion's eyes--"yet are
+conscious of unusual strength, may, it seems to me, avail ourselves of
+the truth in Nietzsche, which, after all, is very much the same as my
+own theory of the selection of the fit for rule. The difference is,
+that we wish to use our power for the common good, whilst Nietzsche's
+teaching results in a return to sheer barbarism, the weak trampled
+because of their weakness."
+
+Constance approved. Yes, their aim, undoubtedly, was the common good,
+and, whilst keeping this in view, they need not, perhaps, be
+over-fastidious as to the means they employed. She had for years
+regarded herself as at war with society, in the narrow sense of the
+word; its creeds, great or small, had no validity for her; she had
+striven for what she deemed her rights, the rights of a woman born with
+intellect and will and imagination, yet condemned by poverty to rank
+among subordinates. The struggle appeared to have brought her within
+view of triumph, and was it not to herself, her natural powers and
+qualities, that she owed all? At this moment she felt her right to
+pursue any object which seemed to her desirable. What was good for
+_her_, was good for the world at large.
+
+The next morning they started at the usual hour for their ride, but the
+sky was cloudy, and, as they were leaving the park, spots of rain fell.
+It was not by the lodge gates that they usually set forth; more
+convenient for their purpose was a postern in the wall which enclosed
+the greater part of Rivenoak; the approach to it was from the back of
+the house, across a paddock, and through a birch copse, where stood an
+old summer-house, now rarely entered. Constance, with her own key, had
+just unlocked the door in the wall; she paused and glanced cloudward.
+
+"I think it'll be a shower," said Lashmar. "Suppose we shelter in the
+summer-house."
+
+They did so, and stood talking under the roof of mossy tiles.
+
+"What have you worked at this morning?" asked Constance.
+
+"Nothing particular. I've been thinking."
+
+"I wish you would try to tell me how you worked out your bio-sociology.
+You must have had a great deal of trouble to get together your
+scientific proofs and illustrations."
+
+"A good deal, of course," answered Dyce modestly. "I had read for
+years, all sorts of scientific and historical books."
+
+"I rather wonder you didn't write a book of your own. Evidently you
+have all the material for one. Don't you think it might be well?"
+
+"We have spoken of that, you know," was Dyce's careless reply. "I
+prefer oral teaching."
+
+"Still, a solid book, such a one as you could easily write, would do
+you a great deal of good. Do think about it, will you?"
+
+Her voice had an unusual quality; it was persuasive, and almost gentle.
+In speaking, she looked at him with eyes of unfamiliar expressiveness,
+and all the lines of her face had softened.
+
+"Of course if you really think--" began Lashmar, affecting to ponder
+the matter.
+
+"I should so like you to do it," Constance pursued, still with the
+markedly feminine accent, which she certainly did not assume. "Will
+you--to please me?"
+
+Her eyes fell before the other's quick, startled look. There was a
+silence; rain pattered on the tiles.
+
+"I'll think about it," Dyce replied at length, moving and speaking
+uneasily. "It's raining quite hard, you know," he added, moving into
+the doorway. "The roads will be no good after this."
+
+"No. We had better go in," said Constance, with sudden return to dry,
+curt speech.
+
+It was evident that, in his anomalous situation, Lashmar's method with
+women could not have fair play. He was in no small degree beholden to
+Constance, and her odd behaviour of late kept him in mind of his
+obligation. Doubtless, he thought, she intended that; and his annoyance
+at what he considered a lack of generosity outweighed the satisfaction
+his vanity might have found in her new manner towards him. That manner,
+especially this morning, reminded him of six years ago. Was Constance
+capable of exacting payment of a debt which she imagined him to have
+incurred at Alverholme? Women think queerly, and are no less
+unaccountable in their procedure.
+
+His curiosity busied itself with the vaguely indicated compact between
+Constance and Lady Ogram, but no word on the subject, not even a
+distant allusion to it, ever fell from his nominally betrothed, and the
+old lady herself, however amiable, spoke not at all of the things he
+desired to know. Was it not grossly unjust to him? Until he clearly
+understood Constance's future position, how could he decide upon his
+course with regard to her? Conceivably, the proposed marriage might
+carry advantages which it behooved him to examine with all care;
+conceivably also, it might at a given moment be his sole rescue from
+embarrassment or worse. Meanwhile, ignorance of the essential factors
+of the problem put him at a grave disadvantage. Constance was playing a
+game (so Dyce saw it) with all the cards visible before her, and, to
+such a profound observer as he, it was not unnatural to suppose that
+she played for something worth the while. Curiously enough, Dyce did
+not presume to believe that he himself, his person, his mind, his
+probable career, were gain sufficient. A singular modesty ruled his
+meditations at this juncture.
+
+Other things were happening which interfered with the confident calm
+essential to his comfort. Since the vexatious little incident at Mrs.
+Toplady's, he had not seen Iris Woolstan. On the eve of his departure
+for Rivenoak, he wrote to her, a friendly letter in the usual strain,
+just to acquaint her with his movements, and to this letter there came
+no reply. It was unlikely that Iris's answer had somehow failed to
+reach hi in; of course she would address to Rivenoak. No doubt she had
+discovered his little deception, and took it ill. Iris was quite absurd
+enough to feel jealousy, and to show it. Of all the women he knew, she
+had the most essentially feminine character. Fortunately she was as
+weak as foolish; at any time, he could get the upper hand of her in a
+private interview. But his sensibility made him restless in the thought
+that she was accusing him of ingratitude--perhaps of behaviour unworthy
+a gentleman. Yes, there was the true sting. Dyce Lashmar prided himself
+on his intellectual lucidity, but still more on his possession of the
+instincts, of the mental and moral tone, which are called gentlemanly.
+It really hurt him to think that anyone could plausibly assail his
+claims in this respect.
+
+When he had been a week at Rivenoak, he again wrote to Mrs. Woolstan.
+Of her failure to answer his last letter, he said nothing. She had of
+course received the _Hollingford Express_, with the report of his
+speech on the 20th. How did she like it? Could she suggest any
+improvement? She knew that he valued her opinion. "Write," he
+concluded, "as soon as you have leisure. I shall be here, I think, for
+another week or so. By the bye, I have taken to cycling, and I fancy it
+will be physically good for me."
+
+To this communication, Mrs. Woolstan replied She began with a few
+formal commendations of his speech. "You are so kind as to ask if I can
+suggest any way in which it could have been improved, but of course I
+know that that is only a polite phrase. I should not venture to
+criticise anything of yours _now_, even if I had the presumption to
+think that I was capable of saying anything worth your attention. I am
+sure you need no advice from me, nor from anyone else, now that you
+have the advantage of Miss Bride's counsels. I regret very much that I
+have so slight an acquaintance with that lady, but Mrs. Toplady tells
+me that she is admirably suited to be your companion, and to encourage
+and help you in your career. I shall have the pleasure of watching you
+from a distance, and of sincerely wishing you happiness as well as
+success."
+
+The formal style of this letter, so different from Iris's ordinary
+effusions, made sufficient proof of the mood in which it was written.
+Dyce bit his lips over it. He had foreseen that Mrs. Woolstan would
+hear of his engagement, but had hoped it would not be just yet. There
+was for the present no help; in her eyes he stood condemned of some
+thing more than indelicacy. Fortunately, she was not the kind of
+woman--he felt sure--to be led into any vulgar retaliation. All he
+could do was to write a very brief note, in which he expressed a hope
+of seeing her very soon. "I shall have much to tell you," he added, and
+tried to think that Iris would accept this as a significant promise.
+
+After all, were not man and woman, disguise the fact as one might,
+condemned by nature to mutual hostility? Useless to attempt rational
+methods with beings to whom reason was fundamentally repugnant. Dyce
+fell from mortification into anger, and cursed the poverty which
+forbade him to act in full accordance with his ideal of conduct.
+
+He had spent nearly a fortnight at Rivenoak, when Lady Ogram, now
+seemingly restored to her ordinary health, summoned him at eleven in
+the morning to the green drawing-room.
+
+"I hope I didn't disturb your work," she began, kindly. "As you are
+leaving so soon--" Dyce had said nothing whatever about departure--"I
+should like to have a quiet word with you, whilst Constance is in the
+town. All goes well at Hollingford, doesn't it?"
+
+"Very well indeed, I think. Breakspeare gets more hopeful every day."
+
+Lady Ogram nodded and smiled. Then a fit of abstraction came upon her;
+she mused for several minutes, Dyce respectfully awaiting her next
+words.
+
+"What are your own wishes about the date?"
+
+Imagining that she referred to the election, and that this was merely
+another example of failing intelligence, Dyce answered that, for his
+own part, he was ready at any time; if a dissolution--
+
+"Pooh!" Lady Ogram interrupted, "I'm talking about your marriage."
+
+"Ah! Yes--yes. I haven't asked Constance--"
+
+"Suppose we say the end of October? You could get away for a month or
+two."
+
+"One thing is troubling me, Lady Ogram," said Dyce, in tone of graceful
+hesitancy. "I feel that it will be a very ill return for all your
+kindness to rob you of Constance's help and society, which you prize
+so."
+
+The keen old eyes were fixed upon him.
+
+"Do you think I am going to live for ever?" sounded abruptly and
+harshly, though, it was evident, with no harsh intention.
+
+"I'm sure I hope--"
+
+"Well, we won't talk about it. I must do without Constance, that's all.
+You'll of course have a house in London, but both of you will often be
+down here. It's understood. About the end of October. Time enough to
+make arrangements. I'll settle it with Constance. So to-morrow morning
+you leave us, on a visit to your parents. I suppose you'll spend a
+couple of days there?"
+
+In his confused mind, Dyce could only fix the thought that Constance
+had evidently told Lady Ogram of his intention to go to Alverholme. It
+was plain that those two held very intimate colloquies.
+
+"A couple of days," he murmured in reply.
+
+"Good. Of course you'll write to me when you're in town again."
+
+At luncheon, Lady Ogram talked of Lashmar's departure. Constance, he
+felt sure, already knew about it. Really, he was treated with somewhat
+scant ceremony. An obstinate mood fell upon him; he resolved that he
+would say not a word to Constance of what had passed this morning. If
+she wished to speak of the proposed date of their marriage, let her
+broach the subject herself. Through the meal he was taciturn.
+
+Miss Bride and he dined alone together that evening. They had not met
+since mid-day. Dyce was still disinclined for talk; Constance, on the
+other hand, fell into a cheerful vein of chat, and seemed not at all to
+notice her companion's lack of amiability.
+
+"I shall go by the 8.27," said Dyce, abruptly, towards the end of the
+meal.
+
+"Yes, that's your best train. You'll be at Alverholme before ten
+o'clock."
+
+After dinner, they sat together for scarcely a quarter of an hour,
+Constance talking of politics. Dyce absolutely silent. Then Miss Bride
+rose, and offered her hand.
+
+"So, good-bye!"
+
+She spoke so pleasantly, and looked so kindly, that Lashmar for a
+moment felt ashamed of himself. He pressed her hand, and endeavoured to
+speak cordially.
+
+"Shall I hear from you?" Constance asked, trying to meet his eyes.
+
+"Why, of course, very soon."
+
+"Thank you. I shall be very glad."
+
+Thus they parted. And Dyce, for a couple of hours, sat smoking and
+brooding.
+
+On the morrow, at luncheon, Lady Ogram mentioned to Constance that May
+Tomalin would arrive on the following afternoon. She added, presently,
+that Lord Dymchurch had accepted an invitation to Rivenoak for a day or
+two in the ensuing week.
+
+That morning, the post had brought Constance a letter and a packet. The
+letter was from Mrs. Toplady, who wrote thus:
+
+
+"Dear Miss Bride,
+
+"This morning I came across an article in an American magazine which it
+struck me would interest you. The subject is: 'Recent Sociological
+Speculations.' It reviews several books, among them one by a French
+author which seems to be very interesting. When I showed the article to
+Miss Tomalin, she agreed with me that there seemed a striking
+resemblance between the theories of this French sociologist and those
+which Mr. Lashmar has independently formed. Probably Mr. Lashmar would
+like to see the book. In any case, you and he will, I am sure, be
+interested in reading this article together.
+
+"To my great regret, Miss Tomalin--or May, as I have come to call
+her--leaves me the day after to-morrow. But the advantage is yours at
+Rivenoak. Please give my love to dear Lady Ogram, who I hope is now
+quite well again. With kindest regards.
+
+"Sincerely yours,
+
+"GERALDINE TOPLADY."
+
+
+Constance had read the article in question, and, immediately after
+doing so, had dispatched an order to London for the French sociological
+work therein discussed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Pillow-propped at her morning studies, the humourist of Pont Street, as
+she glanced rapidly over the close-printed pages of a trans-Atlantic
+monthly, had her eye caught by the word "bio-sociological." Whom had
+she heard using that sonorous term? It sounded to her with the Oxford
+accent, and she saw Lashmar. The reading of a few lines in the context
+seemed to remind her very strongly of Lashmar's philosophic eloquence.
+She looked closer; found that there was question of a French book of
+some importance, recently published; and smilingly asked herself
+whether it could be that Lashmar knew this book. That he was capable of
+reticence regarding the source of his ideas, she had little doubt; and
+what would be more amusing than to see "the coming man" convicted of
+audacious plagiarism? She wished him no harm; none whatever. It
+delighted her to see a man make his way in the stupid world by
+superiority of wits, and Dyce Lashmar was a favourite of hers; she had
+by no means yet done with him. All the same, this chance of
+entertainment must not be lost.
+
+Having gone down rather earlier than usual, she found Miss Tomalin also
+studiously engaged, a solid tome open before her.
+
+"My dear May, what waste of time that is! If you would only believe me
+that all the substance of big books is to be found in little ones! One
+gets on so much more quickly, and has a much clearer view of things.
+Why, no end of poor people nowadays make their living by boiling down
+these monsters to essence. It's really a social duty to make use of
+their work. Look, for instance, at this article I have just been
+reading--'Recent Sociological Speculations.' Here the good man gives us
+all that is important in half a dozen expensive and heavy volumes.
+Here's all about bio-sociology. Haven't I heard you talk of
+bio-sociology?"
+
+"But," cried May, "that's Mr. Lashmar's theory! Has he been publishing
+it?"
+
+"No. Someone else seems to have got hold of the same idea. Perhaps it's
+like Darwin and Wallace--that kind of thing."
+
+May took the periodical, and read.
+
+"Why, this is astonishing!" she exclaimed. "There's a passage quoted
+which is exactly like Mr. Lashmar--almost the very words I have heard
+him use!"
+
+"Yet, you see, it's from a French book. This would certainly interest
+him. Perhaps he doesn't see the American reviews. Suppose I sent it to
+Miss Bride? They can read it together, and it will amuse them."
+
+May assented, and the periodical was addressed to Rivenoak.
+
+Friends came to lunch with them. In the afternoon, they made three
+calls. At dinner some score of persons were Mrs. Toplady's guests. Only
+as the clock pointed towards midnight did they find an opportunity of
+returning to the subject of bio-sociology. Mrs. Toplady wished for an
+intimate chat with her guest, who was soon to leave her; she reclined
+comfortably in a settee, and looked at the girl, who made a pretty
+picture in a high-backed chair.
+
+"I hear that Mr. Lashmar leaves Rivenoak to-morrow," she said,
+referring to a letter that had arrived from Lady Ogram this evening. "I
+hope he won't be gone when the magazine arrives."
+
+"Indeed? He comes back to-morrow?" said May.
+
+"Not to London. He goes to spend a day or two with his people, it
+seems. You don't know them?"
+
+"Not at all. I only know that his father is a rural clergyman."
+
+Mrs. Toplady had observed that May's tone in speaking of Lashmar lacked
+something of its former vivacity. The change had been noticeable since
+the announcement of the philosopher's betrothal. More than that; the
+decline of interest was accompanied by a tendency to speak of Lashmar
+as though pityingly, or perhaps even slightingly; and this it was that
+manifested itself in May's last remark.
+
+"I don't think it's very common;" Mrs. Toplady let fall, "for the
+country clergy--or indeed the clergy anywhere--to have brilliant sons."
+
+"It certainly isn't," May agreed. And, after reflecting, she added: "I
+suppose one may call Mr. Lashmar brilliant?"
+
+Miss Tomalin had continued to profit by her opportunities. Before
+coming to London, it would have been impossible for her to phrase a
+thought thus, and so utter it. That easy superciliousness smacked not
+at all of provincial breeding.
+
+"On the whole, I think so," was Mrs. Toplady's modulated reply. "He has
+very striking ideas. How odd that somebody else should have hit upon
+his theory of civilisation! He ought to have written a book, as I told
+him."
+
+"But suppose," suggested May, with some uneasiness, "that he knew about
+that French book?"
+
+"Oh, my dear, we can't suppose that! Besides, we haven't read the book.
+It may really be quite different in its tendency from Mr. Lashmar's
+view."
+
+"I don't see how it _can_ be, Mrs. Toplady. Judging from those
+quotations, and the article, it's Mr. Lashmar from beginning to end."
+
+"Then it's a most curious case of coincidence. Poor Mr. Lashmar will
+naturally be vexed. It's hard upon him, isn't it?"
+
+May did not at once respond. The friend, watching her with the roguish
+smile, let fall another piece of intelligence.
+
+"I hear that his marriage is to be in the autumn."
+
+"Indeed?" said May, indifferently.
+
+"Between ourselves," pursued the other, "didn't you feel just a little
+surprised?"
+
+"Surprised?"
+
+"At his choice. Oh, don't misunderstand me. I quite appreciate Miss
+Bride's cleverness and seriousness. But one couldn't help thinking that
+a man of Mr. Lashmar's promise--. Perhaps you don't see it in that way?"
+
+"I really think they are rather well suited," said May, again calmly
+supercilious.
+
+"It may be so. I had almost thought that--how shall I express it?" Mrs.
+Toplady searched for a moment. "Perhaps Lady Ogram might have made a
+suggestion, which Mr. Lashmar, for some reason, did not feel able to
+disregard. He has quite a chivalrous esteem for Lady Ogram, haven't you
+noticed? I like to see it. That kind of thing is rare nowadays. No
+doubt he feels reason for gratitude; but how many men does one know who
+can be truly grateful? That's what I like in Mr. Lashmar; he has
+character as well as intellect."
+
+"But how do you mean, Mrs. Toplady?" inquired May, losing something of
+her polish in curiosity. "Why should my aunt have wanted him to marry
+Miss Bride?"
+
+"Ah, that I don't know. Possibly she thought it, knowing him as she
+does, really the best thing for him. Possibly--one could make
+conjectures. But one always can."
+
+May puzzled over the hint, her brow knitted; Mrs. Toplady regarded her
+with veiled amusement, wondering whether it would really be necessary
+to use plainer words. The girl was not dull, but perhaps her small
+experience of life, and her generally naive habit of mind, obscured to
+her what to the more practised was so obvious.
+
+"Do you mean," said May, diffidently, "that she planned it out of
+kindness to Miss Bride? Of course I know that she likes Miss Bride very
+much. Perhaps she thought there would never be a better opportunity."
+
+"It might be so," replied the other, absently.
+
+"Miss Bride is very nice, and very clever," pursued May, sounding the
+words on the thinnest possible note. "But one didn't think of her as
+very likely to marry."
+
+"No; it seemed improbable."
+
+There was a pause. As if turning to quite another subject, Mrs. Toplady
+remarked:
+
+"You will have visitors at Rivenoak next week. Sir William Amys is to
+be there for a day or two, and Lord Dymchurch--"
+
+"Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+The girl threw off her air of cold concentration, and shone
+triumphantly.
+
+"Does it surprise you, May?"
+
+"Oh, I hadn't thought of it--I didn't know my aunt had invited him--"
+
+"The wonder is that Lord Dymchurch should have accepted," said Mrs.
+Toplady, with a very mature archness. "Did he know, by the bye, that
+you were going down?"
+
+"I fancy he did."
+
+Their eyes met, and May relieved her feelings with a little laugh.
+
+"Then perhaps the wonder ceases. And yet, in another way--" Mrs.
+Toplady broke off, and added in a lower voice, "Of course you know all
+about his circumstances?"
+
+"No, in deed I don't. Tell me about him, please."
+
+"But haven't you heard that he is the poorest man in the House of
+Lords?"
+
+"I had no idea of it," cried May. "How should I have known? Really? He
+is so poor?"
+
+"I imagine he has barely enough to live upon. The family was ruined
+long ago."
+
+"But why didn't you tell me? Does my aunt know?" May's voice did not
+express resentment, nor, indeed, strong feeling of any kind. The
+revelation seemed merely to surprise her. She was smiling, as if at the
+amusingly unexpected.
+
+"Lady Ogram certainly knows," said Mrs. Toplady.
+
+"Then of course that's why he does nothing," May exclaimed. "Fancy!"
+Her provincialism was becoming very marked. "A lord with hardly enough
+to live upon! But I'm astonished that he seems so cheerful."
+
+"Lord Dymchurch has a very philosophical mind," said the older lady,
+with gravity humorously exaggerated.
+
+"Yes, I suppose he has. Now I shall understand him better. I'm glad
+he's going to be at Rivenoak. You know that he asked me to advise him
+about what he should do. It'll be rather awkward, though. I must get
+him to tell me the truth."
+
+"You'll probably have no difficulty in that. It's pretty certain that
+he thinks you know all about him already. If he hadn't, I feel sure he
+wouldn't go to Rivenoak."
+
+The girl mused, smiling self-consciously.
+
+"I had better tell you the truth, Mrs. Toplady," were her next words,
+in a burst of confidence. "I think Lord Dymchurch is very nice--as a
+friend. But only as a friend."
+
+"Thank you for your confidence, May. Do you know that I suspected
+something of the kind."
+
+"I want to be friends with him," pursued May, impulsively. "I shall get
+him to tell me all about himself, and we shall see what he can do. Of
+course there mustn't be any misunderstanding."
+
+Mrs. Toplady had not been prepared for this tranquil reasonableness.
+May was either more primitive, or much more sophisticated, than she had
+supposed. Her interest waxed keener.
+
+"Between ourselves, my dear," she remarked, "that is exactly what I
+should have anticipated. You are very young, and the world is at your
+feet. Of money you have no need, and, if Lord Dymchurch _had_ had the
+good fortune to please you--. But you are ambitious. I quite
+understand; trust me. Poor Dymchurch will never do anything. He is
+merely a bookish man. But, whilst we are talking of it, there's no harm
+in telling you that your aunt doesn't quite see the matter with our
+eyes. For some reason--I don't know exactly what it is--Lady Ogram is
+very favourable to poor Lord Dymchurch."
+
+"I have noticed that," said May, quietly. "Of course it makes no
+difference."
+
+"You think not?" asked Mrs. Toplady, beginning to be genuinely
+impressed by this young woman's self-confidence.
+
+"I mean that my aunt couldn't do more than suggest," May answered,
+slightly throwing back her head. "I have only to let her know how I
+think about anything."
+
+"You are sure of that?" asked the other, sweetly.
+
+"Oh, quite!"
+
+May's smile was ineffable. The woman of the world, the humourist and
+cynic, saw it with admiration.
+
+"Ah, that puts my mind at ease!" murmured Mrs. Toplady. "To tell the
+truth, I have been worrying a little. Sometimes elderly people are so
+very tenacious of their ideas. Of course Lady Ogram has nothing but
+your good at heart."
+
+"Of course!" exclaimed the girl.
+
+"Shall I confess to you that I almost fancied _this_ might be the
+explanation of Miss Bride's engagement?"
+
+"Miss Bride--? How?"
+
+"I only tell you for your amusement. It occurred to me that, having set
+her heart on a scheme which had reference to Lord Dymchurch, your aunt
+was perhaps a little uneasy with respect to a much more brilliant and
+conspicuous man. Had that been so--it's all the merest supposition--she
+might have desired to see the brilliant and dangerous man made
+harmless--put out of the way."
+
+A gleam of sudden perception illumined the girl's face. For a moment
+wonder seemed tending to mirth; but it took another turn, and became
+naive displeasure.
+
+"You think so?" broke from her, impetuously. "You really think that's
+why she wanted them to be engaged?"
+
+"It's only what I had fancied, my dear--"
+
+"But I shouldn't wonder if you were right! Indeed, I shouldn't! Now
+that you put it in that way--. I remember that my aunt didn't care for
+me to see much of Mr. Lashmar. It amused me, because, to tell you the
+truth, Mrs. Toplady, I should never have thought of Mr. Lashmar as
+anything but a friend. I feel quite sure I shouldn't."
+
+"I quite understand _that_," replied the listener, the corners of her
+lips very eloquent.
+
+"Such a thing had never entered my mind," pursued May, volubly and with
+emphasis. "Never!"
+
+"It may have entered someone else's mind, though," interposed Mrs.
+Toplady, again maturely arch.
+
+"Oh, do you think so!" exclaimed the girl, with manifest pleasure. "I'm
+sure I hope not. But, Mrs. Toplady, how could my aunt oblige such a man
+as Mr. Lashmar to engage himself against his will?"
+
+"You must remember, May, that, for the moment at all events, Mr.
+Lashmar's prospects seem to depend a good deal on Lady Ogram's good
+will. She has a great deal of local influence. And then--by the bye, is
+Mr. Lashmar quite easy in his circumstances?"
+
+"I really don't know," May answered, with an anxious fold in her
+forehead "Surely he, too, isn't quite poor?"
+
+"I hardly think he is wealthy. Isn't it just possible that something
+may depend upon the marriage--?"
+
+Mrs. Toplady's voice died away in a considerate vagueness. But May was
+not at all disposed to leave the matter nebulous.
+
+"If he is really poor," she said, in a clear-cut tone, "it's quite
+natural that he should want to marry someone who can help him. But why
+didn't he choose someone really suitable?"
+
+"Poor Mr. Lashmar!" sighed the other, humorously. "If he had no
+encouragement, my dear May!"
+
+"But he didn't wait to see whether he had any or not!"
+
+"What if he had very good reason for knowing that lady Ogram would
+never, never, never consent to--something we needn't specify?"
+
+"But," May ejaculated, "surely he needn't take it for granted that my
+aunt would never change her mind. If it's as you say, how foolishly he
+must have behaved! It doesn't concern me in the least. You see I can
+speak quite calmly about it. I'm only sorry and astonished that he
+should be going to marry--well, after all, we must agree that Miss
+Bride isn't quite an ideal for him, however one looks at it. Of course
+it's nothing to me. If it _had_ been, I think I should feel more
+offended than sorry."
+
+"Offended?"
+
+"That he had taken for granted that I had no will of my own, and no
+influence with my aunt."
+
+"It seems rather faint-hearted, I admit."
+
+The dialogue lasted but a few minutes longer. May repeated once or
+twice that she had no personal interest in Lashmar's fortunes, but her
+utterance grew mechanical, and she was evidently withdrawing into her
+thoughts. As a clock in the room told softly the first hour of the
+morning, Mrs. Toplady rose; she spoke a few words about her engagements
+for the day which had nominally begun, then kissed her friend on the
+cheek.
+
+"Don't think any more of it, May. It mustn't interfere with your sleep."
+
+"That indeed it won't, Mrs. Toplady!" replied the girl, with a
+musically mocking laugh.
+
+Appearances notwithstanding, May told the truth when she declared that
+she had never thought of marrying Lashmar. This, however, did not
+necessarily involve an indifference to Lashmar's homage. That the
+coming man should make his court to her, she saw as a natural and
+agreeable thing; that he should recognise her intellectual powers, and
+submit to her personal charm, was only what she had hoped and expected
+from the first. After their conversation in the supper-room, she
+counted him a conquest, and looked forward with no little interest to
+the development of this romance. Its sudden termination astonished and
+mortified her. Had Lashmar turned away to make some brilliant alliance,
+her pique would have endured only for a moment; Lord Dymchurch's
+approach would have more than compensated the commoner's retirement.
+But that she should merely have amused his idle moments, whilst his
+serious thoughts were fixed on Constance Bride, was an injury not easy
+to pardon. For she disliked Miss Bride, and she knew the sentiment was
+mutual.
+
+Seeing the situation in the new light shed by Mrs. Toplady's ingenious
+conjectures, her sense of injury was mitigated; the indignant feeling
+that remained she directed chiefly against Lady Ogram, who seemed
+inclined to dispose of her in such a summary way. Constance, naturally,
+she disliked more than ever, but Lashmar she viewed with something of
+compassion, as a victim of circumstances. Were those circumstances
+irresistible? Was there not even now a possibility of defeating
+them?--not with a view to taking Miss Bride's place, but for the
+pleasure of asserting herself against a plot, and reassuring her
+rightful position as arbitress of destinies. Lady Ogram was a kind old
+woman, but decidedly despotic, and she had gone too far. If indeed
+Lashmar were acting in helpless obedience to her, it would be the
+merest justice to make an attempt at rescuing him and restoring his
+liberty.
+
+Not without moral significance was the facial likeness between Lady
+Ogram in her youth and May Tomalin. One who had seen the girl as she
+sat to-night in her bedroom, brooding deeply, without the least
+inclination for repose, must have been struck by a new vigour in the
+lines of her countenance. Thus--though with more of obstinate
+purpose--had Arabella Tomalin been wont to look at moments of crisis in
+her adventurous youth.
+
+The clock was pointing to two, when May rose from the velvet-seated
+chair, and went to the little writing-table which stood in another part
+of the room. She took a plain sheet of note-paper, and, with a hand far
+from steady, began, not writing, but printing, certain words, in large,
+ill-formed capitals.
+
+"HAVE MORE COURAGE. AIM HIGHER. IT IS NOT TOO LATE."
+
+At this achievement she gazed smilingly. The ink having dried, she
+folded the paper, and put it into an envelope, which she closed. Then
+her face indicated a new effort. She could think of only one way of
+disguising her hand in cursive--the common device of sloping it
+backwards. This she attempted. The result failing to please her, she
+tried again on a second envelope, and this time with success; the
+writing looked masculine, and in no respect suggested its true
+authorship. She had addressed the letter to Dyce Lashmar, Esq., at
+Rivenoak.
+
+Nine o'clock next morning saw her out of doors. In Sloane Street she
+found a hansom, and was driven rap idly eastward. Before ten she sat in
+her own room again, glowing with satisfaction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+"At last," declared Mrs. Lashmar, "it really looks as if Dyce was going
+to do something. I've just been writing to Lady Susan, and I have let
+her see unmistakably what I think of her friendship. But I'm very glad
+Dyce isn't indebted to her, for a more unendurable woman, when she
+thinks she has done anyone a kindness, doesn't exist. If she gets a
+place for a servant-girl, all the world is told of it, and she expects
+you to revere her saintly benevolence. I am _very_ glad that she never
+did anything for Dyce. Indeed, I always felt that she was very little
+use. I doubt whether she has the slightest influence with respectable
+people."
+
+It was just after breakfast, and the day promised to be the hottest of
+the year. The vicar, heavy-laden man, had sat down in his study to
+worry over parish accounts. When the door opened to admit his wife, he
+quivered with annoyance. Mrs. Lashmar had a genius for the malapropos.
+During breakfast, when her talk would have mattered little, she had
+kept silence; now that her husband particularly wished to be alone with
+his anxieties, she entered with an air forboding long discourse.
+
+"Twenty-three pounds, four shillings and sixpence," muttered the vicar,
+as he passed a handkerchief over his moist forehead. "Dear me! how
+close it is! Twenty-three--"
+
+"If Dyce is elected," pursued the lady, "we must celebrate the occasion
+in some really striking way. Of course there must be a dinner for all
+our poor--"
+
+"What I want to know," interrupted Mr. Lashmar, with mild
+irritableness, "is, how he proposes to meet his expenses, and what he
+is going to live upon. If he is still looking to _me_--I hope you
+haven't encouraged him in any hope of that kind?"
+
+"Of course not. In my last letter I expressly reminded him that our
+affairs were getting into a lamentable muddle. Of course, if _I_ had
+had the management of them, this wouldn't have come about.--Do you know
+what I have been thinking? It might be an advantage to Dyce if you made
+friends with the clergy at Hollingford. Couldn't you go over one day,
+and call on the rector. I see he's a Cambridge man, but--"
+
+"Really," cried Mr. Lashmar, half-distraught, "I must beg you to let me
+get this work done in quietness. By some extraordinary error--"
+
+A knock sounded at the door, followed by a man's voice.
+
+"May I come in?"
+
+"There you are!" Mrs. Lashmar exclaimed. "It's Dyce himself. Come in!
+Come in! Why, who could have thought you would get here so early!"
+
+"I chose the early train for the sake of coolness," answered Dyce, who
+shook hands with his parents. "The weather is simply tropical. And two
+days ago we were shivering. What is there to drink, mother?"
+
+Mrs. Lashmar took her son to the dining-room, and, whilst he was
+refreshing himself, talked of the career before him. Her sanguine mind
+saw him already at Westminster, and on the way to high distinction.
+
+"There's just one thing I'm anxious about," she said, sinking her
+voice. "You know the state of your father's affairs. It happens most
+unfortunately, just when a little help would be so important to you.
+For years I have foreseen it, Dyce. Again and again I have urged
+prudence; but you know your father, the most generous of men, but a
+mere child in matters of business. I feared; but it was only the other
+day that I discovered the real state of things. I shouldn't be at all
+surprised, Dyce, if some day we have to look to you for succour."
+
+"Don't worry," answered her son. "Things'll come right, I think. Just
+go on as prudently as you can, for the present. Is father really in a
+hobble?"
+
+"My dear, he doesn't know where to turn for a five-pound note!"
+
+Dyce was sincerely troubled. He seldom thought of his parents; none the
+less they represented his only true affection, and he became
+uncomfortable at the prospect of disaster befalling their latter years.
+
+"Well, well, don't bother about it, more than you can help. Things are
+going pretty well with me, I fancy."
+
+"So I supposed, Dyce. But your father is afraid--you know how he looks
+on the dark side of everything--lest you should be incurring
+liabilities. I have told him that that was never your habit."
+
+"Of course not," said Dyce, confidently. "You may be sure that I
+haven't taken such serious steps without seeing my way clear before me."
+
+"I knew it! I have always had the fullest faith in you. And, Dyce, how
+you are improving in looks! You must go to a photographer again--"
+
+"I've just been sitting at Hollingford. The local people wanted it, you
+know. But I'll send you one from London presently."
+
+"And you assure me that there is no money difficulty?" asked Mrs.
+Lashmar, with inquisitive eyes.
+
+"None whatever. The fact of the matter is that I am standing to please
+Lady Ogram, and of course--" He waved an explanatory hand. "Things are
+not finally arranged yet, but all will be smooth."
+
+His smile made dignified deprecation of undue insistence on trivial
+detail.
+
+"I'm delighted to hear it!" exclaimed his mother. "It's just what I had
+supposed. What could be more natural. Do you think, by the bye, that I
+ought to go and see Lady Ogram? It might seem to her a right and
+natural thing. And, from what you tell me of her, I feel sure we should
+have a good deal in common."
+
+"I've thought of that too," Dyce answered, averting his look. "But wait
+a little. Just now Lady Ogram isn't at all well; she sees hardly
+anybody."
+
+"Of course I shall be guided by your advice. A little later, then. And,
+Dyce, you haven't told me anything about Miss Bride. Is she still with
+Lady Ogram?"
+
+"Oh yes. Still acting as secretary."
+
+"Of course you don't see much of her?"
+
+"Why, to tell you the truth, we have to see each other a good deal,
+owing to her duties."
+
+"Ah, yes, I understand. She writes to dictation, and that kind of
+thing. Strange that Lady Ogram should have engaged such a very
+unpleasant young woman. I've seldom known anyone I disliked so much."
+
+"Really? She's of the new school, you know; the result of the
+emancipation movement." Dyce smiled, as if indulgently. "Lady Ogram
+thinks a great deal of her, and, I fancy, means to leave her money."
+
+"Gracious! You don't say so!"
+
+Mrs. Lashmar put the subject disdainfully aside, and Dyce was glad to
+speak of something else.
+
+Throughout the day, the vicar was too busy to hold conversation with
+his son. But after dinner they sat alone together in the study, Mrs.
+Lashmar being called forth by some parochial duty. As he puffed at his
+newly-lighted pipe, Dyce reflected on all that had happened since he
+last sat here, some three months ago, and thought of what might have
+been his lot had not fortune dealt so kindly with him. Glancing at his
+father's face, he noted in it the signs of wearing anxiety; it seemed
+to him that the vicar looked much older than in the spring, and he was
+impressed by the pathos of age, which has no hopes to nourish, which
+can ask no more of life than a quiet ending. He could not imagine
+himself grey-headed, disillusioned; the effort to do so gave him a
+thrill of horror. Thereupon he felt reproach of conscience. For all the
+care and kindness he had received from his father, since the days when
+he used to come into this very room to show how well he could read a
+page of some child's story, what return had he made? None whatever in
+words, and little enough in conduct. All at once, he felt a desire to
+prove that he was not the insensible egoist his father perhaps thought
+him.
+
+"I'm afraid you're a good deal worried, father," he began, looking at
+the paper-covered writing-table.
+
+"I'm putting my affairs in order, Dyce," the vicar replied, running
+fingers through his beard. "I've been foolish enough to let them get
+very tangled; let me advise you never to do the same. But it'll all be
+straight before long. Don't trouble about me; let me hear of your own
+projects. I heartily wish it were in my power to help you."
+
+"You did that much longer than I ought to have allowed," returned Dyce.
+"I feel myself to a great extent the cause of your troubles--"
+
+"Nothing of the kind," broke in his father, cheerily. "Troubles
+be--excommunicated! This hot weather takes it out of me a little, but
+I'm very well and not at all discouraged; so don't think it. To tell
+you the truth, I've been feeling anxious to hear more in detail from
+you about this Hollingford enterprise. Have you serious hopes?"
+
+"I hardly think I shall be elected the first time," Dyce answered,
+speaking with entire frankness. "But it'll be experience, and may open
+the way for me."
+
+"Parliament," mused the vicar, "Parliament! To be sure, we must have
+Members; it's our way of doing things, of governing the country. And if
+you really feel apt for that--"
+
+He paused dreamily. Dyce, still under the impulse of softened feelings,
+spoke as he seldom did, very simply, quietly, sincerely.
+
+"I believe, father, that I am not _un_fit for it. Politics, it's true,
+don't interest me very strongly, but I have brains enough to get the
+necessary knowledge, and I feel that I shall do better work in a
+prominent position of that kind than if I went on tutoring or took to
+journalism. As you say, we must have representatives, and I should not
+be the least capable, or the least honest. I find I can speak fairly
+well; I find I can inspire people with confidence in me. And, without
+presumption, I don't think the confidence is misplaced."
+
+"Well, that's something," said the vicar, absently. "But you talk as if
+politics were a profession one could live by. I don't yet understand--"
+
+"How I'm going to live. Nor do I. I'll tell you that frankly. But Lady
+Ogram knows my circumstances, and none the less urges me on. It may be
+taken for granted that she has something in view; and, after giving a
+good deal of thought to the matter, I see no valid reason why I should
+refuse any assistance she chooses to offer me. The case would not be
+without precedent. There is nothing dishonourable--"
+
+Dyce drifted into verbosity. At the beginning, he had lost from sight
+the impossibility of telling the whole truth about his present position
+and the prospects on which he counted; he spoke with relief, and would
+gladly have gone on unbosoming himself. Strong and deep-rooted is the
+instinct of confession. Unable to ease his conscience regarding outward
+circumstances, he turned at length to the question of his intellectual
+attitude.
+
+"Do you remember, when I was here last, I spoke to you of a French book
+I had been reading, a sociological work? As I told you, it had a great
+influence on my mind. It helped to set my ideas in order. Before then,
+I had only the vaguest way of thinking about political and social
+questions. That book supplied me with a scientific principle, which I
+have since been working out for myself."
+
+"Ha!" interjected the vicar, looking up oddly. "And you really feel in
+need of a scientific principle?"
+
+"Without it, I should have remained a mere empiric, like the rest of
+our politicians. I should have judged measures from the narrow, merely
+practical point of view; or rather, I should pretty certainly have
+guided myself by some theory in which I only tried to believe."
+
+"So you have now a belief, Dyce? Come, that's a point to have reached.
+That alone should give you a distinction among the aspiring men of
+to-day. And _what_ do you believe?"
+
+After drawing a meditative puff or two, Dyce launched into his familiar
+demonstration. He would very much rather have left it aside; he felt
+that he was not speaking as one genuinely convinced, and that his
+father listened without serious interest. But the theory had all to be
+gone through; he unwound it, like thread off a reel, rather
+mechanically and heavily towards the end.
+
+"And that's what you are going to live for?" said his father. "That is
+your faith necessary to salvation?"
+
+"I take it to be the interpretation of human history."
+
+"Perhaps it is; perhaps it is," murmured the vicar, abstractedly. "For
+my own part," he added, bestirring himself to refill his pipe, "I can
+still see a guiding light in the older faith. Of course the world has
+rejected it; I don't seek to delude myself on that point; I shrink with
+horror from the blasphemy which would have us pretend that our
+civilisation obeys the spirit of Christ. The world has rejected it. Now
+as ever, 'despised and rejected of men.' The world, very likely, will
+do without religion. Yet, Dyce, when I think of the Sermon on the
+Mount--"
+
+He paused again, holding his pipe in his hand, unlit, and looking
+before him with wide eyes.
+
+"I respect that as much as anyone can," said Dyce, gravely.
+
+"As much as anyone can--who doesn't believe it." His father took him up
+with gentle irony. "I don't expect the impossible. You _cannot_ believe
+in it; for you were born a post-Darwinian. Well, your religion is
+temporal; let us take that for granted. You do not deny yourself; you
+believe that self-assertion to the uttermost is the prime duty."
+
+"Provided that self-assertion be understood aright. I understand it as
+meaning the exercise of all my civic faculties."
+
+"Which, in your case, are faculties of command, faculties which point
+you to the upper seat, Dyce. Tom Bullock, my gardener, is equally to
+assert himself, but with the understanding that _his_ faculties point
+to the bottom of the table, where the bread is a trifle stale, and
+butter sometimes lacking. Yes, yes: I understand. Of course you will do
+your very best for Tom; you would like him to have what the sweet
+language of our day calls a square meal. But still he must eat below
+the salt; there you can't help him."
+
+"Because nature itself cannot," explained Dyce. "One wants Tom to
+acknowledge that, without bitterness, and at the same time to
+understand that, but for _him_, his honest work, his clean life, the
+world couldn't go on at all. If Tom _feels_ that, he is a religious
+man."
+
+"Ah! I take your point. But, Dyce, I find as a painful matter of fact
+that Tom Bullock is by no means a religious man. Tom, I have learnt,
+privately calls himself 'a hagnostic,' and is obliging enough to say
+among his intimates that, if the truth were told, I myself am the same.
+Tom has got hold of evolutionary notions, which he illustrates in his
+daily work. He knows all about natural selection, and the survival of
+the fittest. Tom ought to be a very apt disciple of your
+bio-sociological creed. Unhappily a more selfish mortal doesn't walk
+the earth. He has been known to send his wife and children supperless
+to bed, because a festive meeting at a club to which he belongs
+demanded all the money in his pocket. Tom, you see, feels himself one
+of the Select; his wife and children, holding an inferior place in
+great nature's scheme, must be content to hunger now and then, and it's
+their fault if they don't feel a religious satisfaction in the
+privilege."
+
+"Why on earth do you employ such a man?" cried Dyce.
+
+"Because, my dear boy, if I did not, no one else would, and Tom's wife
+and children would have still greater opportunities of proving their
+disinterested citizenship."
+
+Dyce laughed.
+
+"Speaking seriously again, father, Tom is what he is just because he
+hasn't received the proper education. Had he been rightly taught, who
+knows but he would, in fact, have been an apt disciple of the civic
+religion?"
+
+"I fear me, Dyce, that no amount of civic instruction, or any other
+instruction, would have affected Tom's ethics. Tom is representative of
+his age. Come, come; I have every wish to be just to you. A new
+religion must have time; its leaven must work amid the lump. You, my
+dear boy, are convinced that the leaven is, though a new sort, a very
+sound and sufficient yeast; let that be granted. I, unfortunately,
+cannot believe anything of the kind. To me your method of solution
+seems a deliberate insistence on the worldly in human nature, sure to
+have the practical result of making men more and more savagely
+materialist: I see no hope whatever that you will inspire the world
+with enthusiasm for a noble civilisation by any theory based on
+biological teaching. From my point of view, a man becomes noble _in
+spite_ of the material laws which condition his life, never in
+consequence of them. If you ask me how and why--I bow my head and keep
+silence."
+
+"Can you maintain," asked Dyce, respectfully, "that Christianity is
+still a civilising power?"
+
+"To all appearances," was the grave answer, "Christianity has
+failed--utterly, absolutely, glaringly failed. At this moment, the
+world, I am convinced, holds more potential barbarism than did the
+Roman Empire under the Antonines. Wherever I look, I see a monstrous
+contrast between the professions and the practice, between the assumed
+and the actual aims, of so-called Christian peoples. Christianity has
+failed to conquer the human heart."
+
+"It must be very dreadful for you to be convinced of that."
+
+"It is. But more dreadful would be a loss of belief in the Christian
+spirit. By belief, I don't mean faith in its ultimate triumph; I am not
+at all sure that I can look forward to _that_. No; but a persuasion
+that the Sermon on the Mount is good--is the best. Once upon a time,
+multitudes were in that sense Christian. Nowadays, does one man in a
+thousand give his mind's allegiance (lips and life disregarded) to that
+ideal of human thought and conduct? Take your newspaper writer, who
+speaks to and for the million; he simply scorns every Christian
+precept. How can he but scorn a thing so unpractical? Nay, I notice
+that he is already throwing off the hypocrisy hitherto thought decent.
+I read newspaper articles which sneer and scoff at those who venture to
+remind the world that, after all, it nominally owes allegiance to a
+Christian ideal. Our prophets begin openly to proclaim that
+self-interest and the hardest materialism are our only safe guides. Now
+and then such passages amaze, appal me--but I am getting used to them.
+So I am to the same kind of declaration in everyday talk. Men in most
+respectable coats, sitting at most orderly tables, hold the language of
+pure barbarism. If you drew one of them aside, and said to him, 'But
+what about the fruits of the spirit?'--what sort of look would he give
+you?"
+
+"I agree entirely," exclaimed Dyce. "And for that very reason I want to
+work for a new civilising principle."
+
+"If you get into the House, shall you talk there about bio-sociology?"
+
+"Why no," answered Dyce, with a chuckle. "If I were capable of that, I
+should have very little chance of getting into the House at all, or of
+doing anything useful anywhere."
+
+"In other words," said his father, still eyeing an unlit pipe, "one
+must be practical--eh, Dyce?"
+
+"In the right way."
+
+"Yes, yes: one must be practical, practical. If you know which _is_ the
+right way, I am very glad, I congratulate you. For my own part, I seek
+it vainly; I seek it these forty years and more; and it grows clear to
+me that I should have done much better not to heed that question at
+all. 'Blessed are the merciful--blessed are the pure in heart--blessed
+are the peacemakers.' It is all strikingly unpractical, Dyce, my boy;
+you can't, again in to-day's sweet language, 'run' the world on those
+principles. They are utterly incompatible with business; and business
+is life."
+
+"But they are not at all incompatible with the civilisation I have in
+view," Dyce exclaimed.
+
+"I am glad to hear it; very glad. You don't, however, see your way to
+that civilisation by teaching such axioms."
+
+"Unfortunately not."
+
+"No. You have to teach 'Blessed are the civic-minded, for they shall
+profit by their civism.' It has to be profit, Dyce, profit, profit.
+Live thus, and you'll get a good deal out of life; live otherwise, and
+you _may_ get more, but with an unpleasant chance of getting a good
+deal less."
+
+"But isn't it unfortunately true that Christianity spoke also of
+rewards?"
+
+"Yes, it is true. The promise was sometimes adapted to the poorer
+understanding. More often, it was nobler, and by that I take my stand.
+'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the
+peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.' The words,
+you know, had then a meaning. Now they have none. To see God was not a
+little thing, I imagine, but the vision, probably, brought with it
+neither purple nor fine linen.--For curiosity's sake, Dyce, read
+Matthew v. to vii. before you go to sleep. You'll find the old Bible in
+your bedroom."
+
+The door was thrown open, and Mrs. Lashmar's voice broke upon the still
+air of the study.
+
+"Dyce, have you seen to-day's _Times_? There's a most interesting
+article on the probable duration of Parliament. Take it up to your room
+with you, and read it before you sleep."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+"There's a letter for you, Dyce; forwarded from Rivenoak, I see."
+
+It lay beside his plate on the breakfast table, and Dyce eyed it with
+curiosity. The backward-sloping hand was quite unknown to him. He
+tapped at an egg, and still scrutinised the writing on the envelope; it
+was Constance who had crossed out the Rivenoak address, and had written
+beside it "The Vicarage, Alverholme."
+
+"Have you slept well?" asked his mother, who treated him with much more
+consideration than at his last visit.
+
+"Very well indeed," he replied mechanically, taking up his letter and
+cutting it open with a table-knife.
+
+"HAVE MORE COURAGE. AIM HIGHER. IT IS NOT TOO LATE."
+
+Dyce stared at the oracular message, written in capitals on a sheet of
+paper which contained nothing else. He again examined the envelope, but
+the post-mark in no way helped him. He glanced at his mother, and,
+finding her eye upon him, folded the sheet carelessly. He glanced at
+his father, who had just laid down a letter which evidently worried
+him. The meal passed with very little conversation. Dyce puzzled over
+the anonymous counsel so mysteriously conveyed to him, and presently
+went apart to muse unobserved.
+
+He thought of Iris Woolstan. Of course a woman had done this thing, and
+Iris he could well believe capable of it. But what did she mean? Did
+she really imagine that, but for lack of courage, he would have made
+suit to _her_? Did she really regard herself as socially his superior?
+There was no telling. Women had the oddest notions on such subjects,
+and perhaps the fact of his engaging himself to Constance Bride, a mere
+secretary, struck her as deplorable. "Aim higher." The exhortation was
+amusing enough. One would have supposed it came at least from some
+great heiress--
+
+He stopped in his pacing about the garden. An heiress?--May Tomalin?
+
+Shaking of the head dismissed this fancy. Miss Tomalin was a
+matter-of-fact young person; he could not see her doing such a thing as
+this. And yet--and yet--when he remembered their last talk, was it not
+conceivable that he had made a deeper impression upon her than, in his
+modesty, he allowed himself to suppose? Had she not spoken, with a
+certain enthusiasm, of working on his behalf at Hollingford? The
+disturbing event which immediately followed had put Miss Tomalin into
+the distance; his mind had busied itself continuously with surmises as
+to the nature of the benefit he might expect if he married Constance.
+After all, Lady Ogram's niece _might_ have had recourse to this
+expedient. She, at all events, knew that he was staying at Rivenoak,
+and might easily not have heard on what day he would leave. Or,
+perhaps, knowing that he left yesterday, she had calculated that the
+letter would reach him before his departure; it had possibly been
+delivered at Rivenoak by the mid-day post.
+
+Amusing, the thought that Constance had herself re-addressed this
+communication!
+
+Another possibility occurred to him. What if the writer were indeed
+Iris Woolstan, and her motive quite disinterested? What if she did not
+allude to herself at all, but was really pained at the thought of his
+making an insignificant marriage, when, by waiting a little, he was
+sure to win a wife suitable to his ambition? Of this, too, Iris might
+well be capable. Her last letter to him had had some dignity, and, all
+things considered, she had always shown herself a devoted, unexacting
+friend. It seemed more likely, it seemed much more likely, than the
+other conjecture.
+
+Nevertheless, suppose Miss Tomalin _had_ taken this romantic step? The
+supposition involved such weighty issues that he liked to harbour it,
+to play with it. He pictured himself calling in Pont Street; he entered
+the drawing-room, and his eyes fell at once upon Miss Tomalin, in whose
+manner he remarked something unusual a constraint, a nervousness.
+Saluting, he looked her fixedly in the face; she could not meet his
+regard; she blushed a little--
+
+Why, it was very easy to determine whether or not she had sent that
+letter. In the case of Iris Woolstan, observation would have no certain
+results, for she must needs meet him with embarrassment. But Miss
+Tomalin would be superhuman if she did not somehow betray a nervous
+conscience.
+
+Dyce strode into the house. His father and mother stood talking at the
+foot of the stairs, the vicar ready to go out.
+
+"I must leave you at once," he exclaimed, looking at his watch.
+"Something I had forgotten--an engagement absurdly dropt out of mind. I
+must catch the next train--10.14, isn't it?"
+
+Mrs. Lashmar sang out protest, but, on being assured that the
+engagement was political, urged him to make haste. The vicar all but
+silently pressed his hand, and with head bent, walked away.
+
+He just caught the train. It would bring him to town by mid-day, in
+comfortable time to lunch and adorn himself before the permissible hour
+of calling in Pont Street. Rapid movement excited his imagination; he
+clung now to the hypothesis which at first seemed untenable; he built
+hopes upon it. Could he win a confession from May Tomalin, why should
+it be hopeless to sway the mind of Lady Ogram? If that were deemed
+impossible, they had but to wait. Lady Ogram would not live till the
+autumn. To be sure, she looked better since her return to Rivenoak, but
+she was frail, oh very frail, and sure to go off at a moment's notice.
+As for Constance--oh, Constance!
+
+At his lodgings he found unimportant letters. Every letter would have
+seemed unimportant, compared with that he carried in his pocket. Roach,
+M. P., invited him to dine. The man at the Home Office wanted him to go
+to a smoking concert. Lady Susan Harrop sent a beggarly card for an
+evening ten days hence. Like the woman's impudence! And yet, as it had
+been posted since her receipt of his mother's recent letter, it proved
+that Lady Susan had a sense of his growing dignity, which was good in
+its way. He smiled at a recollection of the time when a seat at those
+people's table had seemed a desirable and agitating thing.
+
+Before half-past three he found himself walking in Sloane Street. After
+consulting his watch several times in the course of a few minutes, he
+decided that, early as it was, he would go on at once to Mrs.
+Toplady's. Was he not privileged? Moreover, light rain began to fall,
+with muttering of thunder: he must seek shelter.
+
+At a door in Pont Street stood two vehicles, a brougham and a cab. Was
+it at Mrs. Toplady's? Yes, so it proved; and, just as Dyce went up to
+the house, the door opened. Out came a servant, carrying luggage;
+behind the servant came Mrs. Toplady, and, behind her, Miss Tomalin.
+Hat in hand, Lashmar faced the familiar smile, at this moment
+undisguisedly mischievous.
+
+"Mr. Lashmar!" exclaimed the lady, in high good humour. "We are just
+going to St. Pancras. Miss Tomalin leaves me to-day.--Why, it is
+raining! Can't we take you with us? Yes, yes, come into the carriage,
+and we'll drop you where you like."
+
+Lashmar's eye was on the heiress. She said nothing as she shook hands,
+and, unless he mistook, there was a tremour about her lips, her
+eyelids, an unwonted suggestion of shyness in her bearing. The ladies
+being seated, he took his place opposite to them, and again perused
+Miss Tomalin's countenance. Decidedly, she was unlike herself;
+manifestly, she avoided his look. Mrs. Toplady talked away, in the
+gayest spirits; and the rain came down heavily, and thunder rolled.
+Half the distance to St. Pancras was covered before May had uttered
+anything more than a trivial word or two. Of a sudden she addressed
+Lashmar, as if about to speak of something serious.
+
+"You left all well at Rivenoak?"
+
+"Quite well."
+
+"When did you come away?"
+
+"Early yesterday morning," Dyce replied.
+
+May's eyebrows twitched; her look fell.
+
+"I went to Alverholme," Dyce continued, "to see my people."
+
+May turned her eyes to the window. Uneasiness appeared in her face.
+"She wants to know"--said Dyce to himself--"whether I have received
+that letter."
+
+"Do you stay in town?" inquired Mrs. Toplady.
+
+"For a week or two, I think." He added, carelessly, "A letter this
+morning, forwarded from Rivenoak, brought me back."
+
+May made a nervous movement, and at once exclaimed:
+
+"I suppose your correspondence is enormous, Mr. Lashmar?"
+
+"Enormous--why no. But interesting, especially of late."
+
+"Of course--a public man--"
+
+Impossible to get assurance. The signs he noticed might mean nothing at
+all; on the other hand, they were perhaps decisive. More about the
+letter of this morning he durst not say, lest, if this girl had really
+written it, she should think him lacking in delicacy, in discretion.
+
+"Very kind of you, to come to me at once," said Mrs. Toplady. "Is there
+good news of the campaign? Come and see me to-morrow, can you? This
+afternoon I have an engagement. I shall only just have time to see Miss
+Tomalin safe in the railway carriage."
+
+Dyce made no request to be set down. After this remark of Mrs.
+Toplady's, a project formed itself in his mind. When the carriage
+entered Euston Road, rain was still falling.
+
+"This'll do good," he remarked. "The country wants it."
+
+His thoughts returned to the morning, a week ago, when Constance and he
+had been balked of their ride by a heavy shower. He saw the
+summer-house among the trees; he saw Constance's face, and heard her
+accents.
+
+They reached the station. As a matter of course, Dyce accompanied his
+friends on to the platform, where the train was already standing. Miss
+Tomalin selected her scat. There was leave-taking. Dyce walked away
+with Mrs. Toplady, who suddenly became hurried.
+
+"I shall only just have time," she said, looking at the clock. "I'm
+afraid my direction--northward--would only take you more out of your
+way."
+
+Dyce saw her to the brougham, watched it drive off. There remained
+three minutes before the departure of Miss Tomalin's train. He turned
+back into the station; he walked rapidly, and on the platform almost
+collided with a heavy old gentleman whom an official was piloting to a
+carriage. This warm-faced, pompous-looking person he well knew by
+sight. Another moment, and he stood on the step of the compartment
+where May had her place. At sight of him, she half rose.
+
+"What is it? Have I forgotten something?"
+
+The compartment was full. Impossible to speak before these listening
+people. In ready response to his embarrassed look, May alighted.
+
+"I'm so sorry to have troubled you," said Dyce, with laughing
+contrition. "I thought it might amuse you to know that _Mr. Robb_ is in
+the train!"
+
+"Really? How I should have liked to be in the same carriage. Perhaps I
+should have heard the creature talk. Oh, and this compartment is so
+full, so hot! Is it impossible to find a better?"
+
+Dyce rushed at a passing guard. He learnt that, if Miss Tomalin were
+willing to change half way on her journey, she could travel at ease;
+only the through carriages for Hollingford were packed. To this May at
+once consented. Dyce seized her dressing-bag, her umbrella; they sped
+to another part of the train, and sprang, both of them, into an empty
+first-class.
+
+"This is delightful!" cried the girl. "I _am_ so much obliged to you!"
+
+"Tickets, please."
+
+"Shown already," replied May. "Change of carriage."
+
+The door was slammed, locked. The whistle sounded.
+
+"But we're starting!" May exclaimed. "Quick! Jump out, Mr. Lashmar!"
+
+Dyce sat still, smiling calmly.
+
+"It's too late, I'm afraid I mustn't try to escape by the window."
+
+"Oh, and you have sacrificed yourself just to make me more comfortable!
+How inconvenient it will be for you! What a waste of time!"
+
+"Not at all. The best thing that could have happened."
+
+"Well, we have papers at all events." May handed him one. "Pray don't
+feel obliged to talk."
+
+"As it happens, I very much wish to talk. Queer thing that I should owe
+my opportunity to Robb. I shall never again feel altogether hostile to
+that man. I wish you had seen him. He looked apoplectic. This weather
+must try him severely."
+
+"You never spoke to him, I suppose?" asked May.
+
+"I never had that honour. Glimpses only of the great man have been
+vouchsafed to me. Once seen, he is never forgotten. To-day he looks
+alarmingly apoplectic."
+
+"But really, Mr. Lashmar," said the girl, settling herself in her
+corner, "I do feel ashamed to have given you this useless journey--and
+just when you are so busy."
+
+She was pretty in her travelling costume. Could Lashmar have compared
+her appearance to-day with that she had presented on her first arrival
+at Rivenoak, he would have marvelled at the change wrought by luxurious
+circumstance. No eye-glasses now; no little paper-cutter hanging at her
+girdle. Called upon to resume the Northampton garb, May would have been
+horrified. The brown shoes which she had purchased expressly for her
+visit to Lady Ogram would have seemed impossibly large and coarse.
+Exquisite were her lavender gloves. Such details of attire, formerly
+regarded with some contempt, had now an importance for her. She had
+come to regard dress as one of the serious concerns of life.
+
+"I went to Pont Street this afternoon," said Dyce, "with a wish that by
+some chance I might see you alone. It was Very unlikely, but it has
+come to pass."
+
+May exhibited a slight surprise, and by an imperceptible movement put a
+little more dignity into her attitude.
+
+"What did you wish to speak about?" she asked, with an air meant to be
+strikingly natural.
+
+"Don't let me startle you; it was about my engagement to Miss Bride."
+
+This time, Dyce felt he could not be mistaken. She was confused; he saw
+colour mounting on her neck; the surprise she tried to convey in
+smiling was too obviously feigned.
+
+"Isn't that rather an odd subject of conversation?"
+
+"It seems so, but wait till you have heard what I have to say. It is on
+Miss Bride's account that I speak. You are her friend, and I feel that,
+in mere justice to her, I ought to tell you a very strange story. It is
+greatly to her honour. She couldn't tell you the truth herself, and of
+course you will not be able to let her know that you know it. But it
+will save you from possible misunderstanding of her, enable you to
+judge her fairly."
+
+May hardly disguised her curiosity. It absorbed her self-consciousness,
+and she looked the speaker straight in the face.
+
+"To come to the point at once," pursued Lashmar, "our engagement is not
+a genuine one. Miss Bride has not really consented to marry me. She
+only consents to have it thought that she has done so. And very
+generous, very noble, it is of her."
+
+"What a strange thing!" the girl exclaimed, as ingenuously as she had
+ever spoken in her life.
+
+"Isn't it! I can explain in a word or two. Lady Ogram wished us to
+marry; it was a favourite project of hers. She spoke to me about
+it--putting me in a very difficult position, for I felt sure that Miss
+Bride had no such regard for me as your aunt supposed. I postponed,
+delayed as much as possible, and the result was that Lady Ogram began
+to take my behaviour ill. The worst of it was, her annoyance had a bad
+effect on her health. I think you know that Lady Ogram cannot bear
+contradiction."
+
+"I know that she doesn't like it," said May, her chin rising a little.
+
+"You, of course, are favoured. You have exceptional influence. But I
+can assure you that it would have been a very unpleasant thing to have
+to tell Lady Ogram either that I couldn't take the step she wished, or
+that Miss Bride rejected me."
+
+"I can believe that," said May indulgently.
+
+"When I saw that she was making herself ill about it, I took the
+resolve to speak frankly to Miss Bride. The result was--our pretended
+engagement."
+
+"Was it your suggestion?" inquired the listener.
+
+"Yes, it came from me," Dyce answered, with half real, half affected,
+embarrassment. "Of course I felt it to be monstrous impudence, but, as
+some excuse for me, you must remember that Miss Bride and I have known
+each other for many years, that we were friends almost in childhood.
+Perhaps I was rather a coward. Perhaps I ought to have told your aunt
+the truth, and taken the consequences. But Miss Bride, no less than I,
+felt afraid of them."
+
+"What consequences?"
+
+"We really feared that, in Lady Ogram's state of health--"
+
+He broke off significantly. May dropped her eyes. The train roared
+through a station.
+
+"But," said May at length, "I understand that you are to be married in
+October."
+
+"That is Lady Ogram's wish. Of course it's horribly embarrassing. I
+needn't say that when our engagement is announced as broken off, I
+shall manage so that all the fault appears to be on my side. But I am
+hoping--that Lady Ogram may somehow be brought to change her mind. And
+I even dare to hope that--you will help us to that end."
+
+"I? How could I, possibly?"
+
+"Indeed, I hardly know. But the situation is so awkward, and you are
+the only person who has really great influence with Lady Ogram--"
+
+There was silence amid the noise of the train. May looked through one
+window, Dyce through the other.
+
+"In any case," exclaimed Lashmar, "I have discharged what I felt to be
+a duty. I could not bear to think that you should be living with Miss
+Bride, and totally misunderstanding her. I wanted you to do justice to
+her noble self-sacrifice. Of course I have felt ashamed of myself ever
+since I allowed her to get into such a false position. You, I fear,
+think worse of me than you did."
+
+He regarded her from under his eyelids, as if timidly. May sat very
+upright. She did not look displeased; a light in her eyes might have
+been understood as expressing satisfaction.
+
+"Suppose," she said, looking away, "that October comes, and you haven't
+been able to--to put an end to this situation?"
+
+"I'm afraid--very much afraid--that we shall have to do so at any cost."
+
+"It's very strange, altogether. An extraordinary state of things."
+
+"You forgive me for talking to you about it?" asked Dyce, leaning
+respectfully forward.
+
+"I understand why you did. There was no harm in it."
+
+"Do you remember our talk in the supper-room at Mrs. Toplady's?--when
+we agreed that nothing was more foolish than false modesty. Shall I
+venture to tell you, now, that, if this marriage came about, it would
+be something like ruin to my career? You won't misunderstand. I have a
+great respect, and a great liking, for Miss Bride; but think how
+all-important it is, this question of marriage for a public man."
+
+"Of course I understand that," May replied.
+
+He enlarged upon the topic, revealing his hopes.
+
+"But I rather thought," said May, "that Miss Bride was just the sort of
+companion you needed. She is so intelligent and--"
+
+"Very! But do you think she has the qualities which would enable her to
+take a high position in society? There's no unkindness in touching upon
+that. Admirable women may fall short of these particular excellencies.
+A man chooses his wife according to the faith he has in his future?"
+
+"I understand; I quite understand," said May, with a large air. "No; it
+has to be confessed that Miss Bride--I wonder my aunt didn't think of
+that."
+
+They turned aside to discuss Lady Ogram, and did so in such detail,
+with so much mutual satisfaction, that time slipped on insensibly, and,
+ere they had thought of parting, the train began to slacken down for
+the junction where Miss Tomalin would have to change carriages.
+
+"How annoying that I shan't be able to see you again!" cried Lashmar.
+
+"But shan't you be coming to Rivenoak?"
+
+"Not for some time, very likely. And when I do--" The train stopped.
+Dyce helped his companion to alight, and moved along to seek for a
+place for her in the section which went to Hollingford. Suddenly an
+alarmed voice from one of the carriage-doors shouted "Guard!
+Station-master!" People turned in that direction; porters ran;
+evidently, something serious had happened.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked May, at her companion's side.
+
+"Somebody taken ill, I think," said Dyce, moving towards the door
+whence the shout had sounded.
+
+He caught a glimpse of a man who had sunk upon the floor of the
+carriage, and was just being lifted onto the seat by other passengers.
+Pressing nearer, he saw a face hideously congested, with horrible
+starting eyes. He drew back, and whispered to May:
+
+"It's Robb! Didn't I tell you that he looked apoplectic."
+
+The girl shrank in fear.
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Perfectly. Stand here a minute, and I'll ask how it happened."
+
+From the talk going on he quickly learnt that Mr. Robb, complaining
+that he felt faint, had risen, just as the train drew into the station,
+to open the door and descend. Before anyone could help him, he dropped,
+and his fellow-travellers shouted. Dyce and May watched the conveyance
+of the obese figure across the platform to a waiting-room.
+
+"I must know the end of this," said Lashmar, his eyes gleaming.
+
+"You wouldn't have gone further, should you?"
+
+"I suppose not--though I had still a great deal to tell you. Quick! We
+must get your place."
+
+"I could stop for the next train," suggested May.
+
+"Better not, I think. The carriage will be waiting for you at
+Hollingford. No, better not. I have another idea."
+
+They found a seat. Dyce threw in the dressing-bag, and alighted again.
+
+"There's still a minute or two," he said, keeping May beside him on the
+platform. "This affair may be tremendously important for me, you know."
+
+"It would mean an election at once," said the girl, excitedly.
+
+"Of course." He approached his face to hers, and added in low, rapid
+tones, "You know the park gate into the Wapham Road?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You have a key. Could you be there at eight tomorrow morning? If it's
+fine, take your bicycle, as if you were going for a spin before
+breakfast. Miss Bride never goes out before breakfast, and no one else
+is likely to pass that way."
+
+"You mean you would be there?"
+
+"If there's anything important to tell--yes. From a quarter to eight. I
+shall stay here till I know the state of things. If there's recovery, I
+will go back to town, and wire to-morrow to Lady Ogram that Ii have
+heard a rumour of Robb's serious illness, asking for information. Do
+you agree?"
+
+Doors were slamming; porters were shouting. May had only just time to
+spring into the carriage.
+
+"Yes!" she exclaimed, with her head at the window. Dyce doffed his hat.
+They smiled at each other, May's visage flushed and agitated, and the
+train whirled away.
+
+In the carriage awaiting Miss Tomalin at Hollingford station sat
+Constance Bride.
+
+"A horrible journey!" May exclaimed, taking a seat beside her. "No seat
+in a through carriage at St. Pancras. Had to change at the junction.
+Somebody in the train had a fit, or something--no wonder, with such
+heat! But it's cooler here. Have you had a storm?"
+
+The footman, who had been looking after luggage, stepped up to the
+carriage door and spoke to Miss Bride. He said there was a rumour in
+the station that Mr. Robb, travelling by this train, had been seized
+with apoplexy on the way.
+
+"Mr. Robb!" exclaimed Constance. "Then he was the person you spoke of?"
+
+"I suppose so," May answered. "Queer thing!"
+
+They drove off. Constance gazed straight before her, thinking intently.
+
+"If the attack is fatal," said May, "we shall have an election at once."
+
+"Yes," fell from her companion's lips mechanically.
+
+"Who will be the Conservative candidate?"
+
+"I have no idea," answered Constance, still absorbed in her thoughts.
+
+May cast a glance at her, and discovered emotion in the fixed eyes, the
+set lips. There was a short silence, then Miss Tomalin spoke as if an
+amusing thought had struck her.
+
+"You received that American magazine from Mrs. Toplady? Isn't it an odd
+coincidence--the French book, you know?"
+
+"It didn't seem to me very striking," replied Constance, coldly.
+
+"No? Perhaps not." May became careless. "I hadn't time to read it
+myself; I only heard what Mrs. Toplady said about it."
+
+"There was a certain resemblance between the Frenchman's phraseology
+and Mr. Lashmar's," said Constance; "but nothing more. Mr. Lashmar's
+system isn't easy to grasp. I doubt whether Mrs. Toplady is quite the
+person to understand it."
+
+"Perhaps not," May smiled, raising her chin. "I must read the article
+myself."
+
+"Even then," rejoined her companion, in a measured tone, "you will
+hardly be able to decide as to the resemblance of the two theories."
+
+"Why not?" asked May, sharply.
+
+"Because you have had no opportunity of really studying Mr. Lashmar's
+views."
+
+"Oh, I assure you he has made them perfectly clear to me--perfectly."
+
+"In outline," said Constance, smiling as one who condescends to a
+childish understanding.
+
+"Oh no, in detail."
+
+Miss Bride contented herself with a half-absent "Indeed?" and seemed to
+resume her meditations. Whereupon, May's eyes flashed, and her head
+assumed its most magnificent pose.
+
+They exchanged not another word on the drive to Rivenoak.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+May awoke very early next morning. It was broad daylight, however, and
+she hastened to look at her watch. Reassured as to the time, her next
+thought regarded the weather; she stepped to the window, and saw with
+vexation a rainy sky. An hour later, she again lifted the blind to look
+forth. No sun was shining, but rain had ceased. She began to dress.
+
+At a quarter to eight, equipped for walking, she quietly left her room
+and tripped down stairs. A housemaid met her in the hall; she asked
+whether the front door was unlocked, and the servant went before to
+open for her. Following a path which led to the rear of the house, she
+was soon out in the park; in some ten minutes she passed the old
+summer-house among the trees, and, with quickened pace, came to the
+door which led into the Wapham Road. Before using her key, she tapped
+lightly on the wood; from without there sounded immediately an
+answering knock. Then she opened.
+
+"Do you know?" asked Lashmar, eagerly, as he gave his hand, forgetting
+the formal salute.
+
+"Yes. We had the news after dinner. Mr. Breakspeare sent a message."
+
+"He lived for about an hour. I came on to Hollingford late, and have
+passed the night at the Saracen's Head. It's to be understood, of
+course, that I got the news in town just in time for the last train."
+
+Whilst exchanging rapid sentences, they stood, one within, one outside,
+the park wall. May held the door as if uncertain what to do next.
+
+"You can spare me a few minutes?" said Dyce, glancing this way and that
+along the public way.
+
+"Come in. I didn't bring my bicycle, as it's so wet."
+
+"Of course not. You needn't be anxious. Nobody comes this way."
+
+He closed the door. May was looking behind her into the frees and
+bushes, which hid them from the park The sky had begun to brighten; a
+breeze shook drops from the shining leafage.
+
+"How does Lady Ogram take the news?" Lashmar inquired, trying to speak
+with his wonted calm, but betraying a good deal of nervousness.
+
+"I haven't seen her. She was in her room when it came."
+
+"I shouldn't wonder if she's sorry. She had set her mind on our beating
+Robb at the poll. No one seems to know who will stand for the
+Conservatives. I saw Breakspeare after midnight; he was in the wildest
+excitement. He thinks it's good for us."
+
+"Of course you'll see Lady Ogram to-day?"
+
+"I shall come at lunch-time. That'll be best, won't it?"
+
+May nodded. Her eyes kept turning in the direction of the house.
+
+"How very kind of you to have come out so early!" said Dyce. "All night
+I've been reproaching myself for giving you the trouble, and when I saw
+the rain I didn't think for a moment you would be here. I'm delighted
+to be able to talk to you before seeing anyone else. Don't you think
+this event has happened very luckily? Whether I am elected or not,
+it'll be easier for me to get out of my false position."
+
+"Why? How?"
+
+"In this way. During the excitement of the election, I shall find
+opportunities of speaking more freely with Lady Ogram, and who knows
+but I may bring her to see that the plan she made for me was not
+altogether to my advantage? Miss Bride, of course, will speak, whenever
+she has a chance, in the same sense--"
+
+"Are you sure of that?" asked May, casting a furtive glance at him. She
+was boring the path with the point of her slim umbrella.
+
+"Do you feel any doubt?" asked Dyce in turn.
+
+"I really can't judge. It's such a very curious situation--and," she
+added, "Miss Bride is so peculiar."
+
+"Peculiar?--I understand. You don't find her very communicative. But
+I'm sure you'll make allowance for the difficulty of--"
+
+"Oh, I make all allowances," interrupted May, with her smile of
+superiority. "And of course Miss Bride's affairs don't in the least
+concern me."
+
+"Except I hope in so far as they concern me."
+
+Dyce spoke with insinuating humour. Both hands resting on his umbrella
+handle, he held himself very upright, and looked May steadily in the
+face. She, as though challenged, straightened herself and met his look.
+
+"I should be sorry to see your career spoilt," she said, with rather
+excessive dignity. "But you will admit that you have acted, to say the
+least, imprudently."
+
+"It looks so. You think I should have had _more courage_. But you will
+see that it's _not too late_."
+
+Speaking, he watched her face. He saw her lips twitch, and her eyes
+stray.
+
+"You know," he pursued, "that I _aim high_."
+
+Her look fell.
+
+"But no man can do without help. The strong man is he who knows how to
+choose his helper, and at the right moment. I am at a crisis of my
+life, and--it is to you that I turn."
+
+"I of course feel that to be a great compliment, Mr. Lashmar," said
+May, recovering her grand air. "I promise you to do what I can. But you
+mustn't count on me for impossibilities."
+
+"I count on nothing that isn't easy for _you_--with your character,
+your influence."
+
+"Thank you, again. My first piece of advice to you is to win the
+election."
+
+"I shall do my best. If I am beaten in this, I shall win another; you
+are aware of that. Are you easily discouraged? I think not."
+
+He smiled at her with admiration. That it was genuine, May easily
+perceived; how much, or how little, it implied, she did not care to
+ask. These two, alike incapable of romantic passion, children of a time
+which subdues everything to interest, which fosters vanity and chills
+the heart, began to imagine that they were drawn to each other by all
+the ardours of youth. Their minds remarkably lucid, reviewing the
+situation with coolest perspicuity, calculating each on the other's
+recognised weaknesses, and holding themselves absolutely free if
+contingency demanded freedom, they indulged, up to a certain point, the
+primitive impulse, and would fain have discovered in it a motive of the
+soul. May, who had formed her opinion as to Miss Bride's real attitude
+regarding Lashmar, took a keen pleasure in the treacherous part she was
+playing; she remembered the conversation last evening in the carriage,
+and soothed her wounded self-esteem. Dyce, gratified by yet another
+proof of his power over womankind, felt that in this case he had
+something to be really proud of; Miss Tomalin's beauty and her
+prospects spoke to the world at large. She was in love with him, and he
+detected in himself a reciprocal emotion. Interesting and agreeable
+state of things!
+
+May, instead of directly answering his last question, allowed her eyes
+to meet his for a second. Then she said:
+
+"Some people are coming to us this afternoon."
+
+"To stay? Who are they?"
+
+"Sir William and Lady Amys--and Lord Dymchurch--"
+
+"Dymchurch! Lady Ogram has invited him?"
+
+"He would hardly come to stay without being invited," said May, archly.
+"But I thought you most likely knew. Didn't Lady Ogram mention it to
+you?"
+
+"Not a word," answered Dyce. "No doubt she had a reason for saying
+nothing. You, possibly, could suggest it?"
+
+His face had changed. There was cold annoyance in his look and in his
+voice.
+
+"It must have been mere accident," said May.
+
+"That it certainly wasn't. How long will Dymchurch stay?"
+
+"I have no idea, Mr. Lashmar.--I must leave you. Many thanks for taking
+so much trouble to bring me the news."
+
+She held out her hand. Dyce took and detained it.
+
+"I am going to stay on at Hollingford," he said, "at the hotel. I shall
+run up to town this evening, but be back to-morrow. At lunchtime to-day
+I shall see you, but of course that doesn't count; we shan't be able to
+talk, Wednesday, to-morrow; on Thursday morning meet me here again,
+will you?"
+
+"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Lashmar," she answered with
+self-possession; trying, unobtrusively, to withdraw her hand.
+
+"I beg you to! Indeed, you must."
+
+He tried the power of a smile meant to be at once virile and tender,
+but May was steadily drawing away her hand; he had not the courage to
+hold it forcibly.
+
+"We shall find other opportunities of talking about the things that
+interest us," she said, moving a step back.
+
+"It surprises me that you came this morning!" Dyce exclaimed, with a
+touch of sarcasm.
+
+"Then," May answered loftily, "you will be spared a second surprise."
+
+She turned and left him. Dyce, after watching for a moment her graceful
+figure, strode in pursuit. They were near the summer-house.
+
+"You are forgetting," he said, "that you have left the key in the door."
+
+May uttered an exclamation of alarm.
+
+"How foolish of me! Thank you so much!"
+
+"I fear I must give you the trouble of walking back, to let me out."
+
+"Why, of course."
+
+They returned to the door, and Dyce again took the offered hand.
+
+"I shall be here at eight on Thursday," he said. "Unless it rains. In
+that case, on the first fine morning."
+
+"I don't promise to meet you."
+
+"I will come without a promise."
+
+"As you like," said May, slowly closing the door upon him. "But don't
+prepare for yourself another surprise."
+
+She regained the house, having met no one but a gardener. Within, she
+encountered no one at all. Safe in her room, she reflected on the
+morning's adventure, and told herself that it had been, in a double
+sense, decidedly dangerous. Were Constance Bride or Lady Ogram to know
+of this clandestine rendezvous, what a storm would break! On that
+account alone she would have been glad of what she had done. But she
+was glad, also, of Lashmar's significant behaviour and language. He
+perceived, undoubtedly, that the anonymous letter came from her, and,
+be the upshot what it might, their romantic intimacy gave life a new
+zest. May flattered herself that she knew the tremours of amorous
+emotion. "If I liked, I _could_ be really, really in love!" This was
+delightful experience; this was living! Dangerous, yes; for how did she
+mean to comport herself in the all but certain event of her receiving
+an offer of marriage from Lord Dymchurch? Mrs. Toplady was right; Lady
+Ogram had resolved upon this marriage, and would it be safe to thwart
+that strong-willed old woman? Moreover, the thought was very tempting.
+A peeress! Could she reasonably look for such another chance, if this
+were lost? Was she prepared to sacrifice it for the sake of Dyce
+Lashmar, and the emotional joys he represented?
+
+She thought of novels and poems. Browning was much in her mind. She saw
+herself as the heroine of psychological drama. How interesting! How
+thrilling! During her life at Northampton, she had dreamed of such
+things, with no expectation of their ever befalling her. Truly, she was
+fortune's favourite. Destiny had raised her to the sphere where her
+powers and sensibilities would have full play.
+
+So it was with radiant face that she appeared at the breakfast table.
+Constance and she shook hands as usual; with everyday words. It seemed
+to her that she saw disquiet in the secretary's countenance--after all,
+what was Miss Bride but a salaried secretary? Lashmar's betrothed might
+well suffer uneasiness, under the circumstances; _she_, it was obvious,
+did not regard the engagement as a mere pretence. No, no; Constance
+Bride was ambitious, and thought it a great thing to marry a man with a
+parliamentary career before him. She was of a domineering, jealous
+nature, and it would exasperate her to feel that Lashmar merely used
+her for his temporary purposes. Noble self-sacrifice, indeed! Lashmar
+himself did not believe that. Best of all things, at this moment, May
+would have liked to make known her power over Lashmar, and to say, "Of
+course, dear Miss Bride, he is nothing whatever to me. In my position,
+you understand--"
+
+There had been a few moments' silence, when Constance asked:
+
+"Do you ever hear of Mr. Yabsley?"
+
+Was the woman a thought-reader? At that instant May had been
+thinking--the first time for weeks, perhaps--of her Admirable Crichton
+in the old Northampton days, and reflecting with gratification on the
+vast change which had come upon her life and her mind since she
+followed Mr. Yabsley's spiritual direction. Startled, she gazed at the
+speaker.
+
+"How odd that you should have remembered his name!"
+
+"Not at all. I heard it so often when you first came here."
+
+"Did you?" said May, pretending to be amused. "Mr. Yabsley is a
+remarkable man, and I value his friendship. You remind me that I really
+ought to write to him."
+
+Constance seemed to lose all her interest in the matter, and spoke of
+something trivial.
+
+In the course of the morning there happened a singular thing.
+
+Lady Ogram rose earlier than usual. Before leaving her room, she read
+in the _Hollingford Express_ all about the sudden death of Mr. Robb.
+The event had kept her awake all night. Though on the one side a
+disappointment, for of late she had counted upon Robb's defeat at the
+next election as an all but certain thing, the fact that she had
+outlived her enemy, that he lay, as it were, at her feet, powerless
+ever again to speak an insulting word, aroused all the primitive
+instincts of her nature. With the exultation of a savage she gloated
+over the image of Robb stricken to the ground. Through the hours of
+darkness, she now and then sang to herself, and the melodies were those
+she had known when a girl, or a child, common songs of the street. It
+was her chant of victory and revenge.
+
+Having risen, she went into the drawing-room on the same floor as her
+bedchamber, and summoned two menservants. After her first serious
+illness, she had for a time been carried up and down stairs in a chair
+made for that purpose; she now bade her attendants fetch the chair, and
+convey her to the top story of the house. It was done. In her hand she
+had a key, and with this she unlocked the door of that room which had
+been closed for half a century. Having stood alone within the garret
+for a few minutes, she called to the men, who, on entering, looked with
+curiosity at dust-covered forms in clay and in marble. Their mistress
+pointed to a bust which stood on a wooden pedestal some three feet high.
+
+"You are to clean that. Bring water and soap. I will wait here whilst
+you do it."
+
+The task was quickly performed; the marble shone once more, and its
+pedestal of lustrous black looked little the worse for long seclusion.
+Lady Ogram sat with her eyes fixed upon the work of art, and for a
+minute or two neither moved nor spoke.
+
+"Who is that?" she inquired suddenly, indicating the head, and turning
+her look upon the two men.
+
+"I think it is yourself, my lady," answered the bolder of the two.
+
+Lady Ogram smiled. That use of the present tense was agreeable to her.
+
+"You are to take it down to the green drawing-room. Carry me there,
+first, and I will show you where to place it."
+
+Arrived at the ground-floor, she quitted her chair and walked into the
+drawing-room with step which was almost firm. Here, among the flowers
+and leafage, sat May Tomalin, who, surprised at her aunt's early
+appearance, rose forward with an exclamation of pleasure.
+
+"How well you look this morning, aunt!"
+
+"I'm glad you think so, my dear," was the pleased and dignified reply.
+"Be so kind, May, as to go into the library, and wait there until I
+send for you."
+
+The girl turned pale. For a moment, she thought her escapade of this
+morning had been discovered, and that terrible things were about to
+happen. Her fright could not escape Lady Ogram's observation.
+
+"What, have I frightened you? Did it remind you of being sent into the
+corner when you were a little girl?"
+
+She laughed with discordant gaiety.
+
+"Really, for the moment I thought I was being punished," replied May.
+And she too laughed, a melodious trill.
+
+A quarter of an hour passed. Lady Ogram presented herself at the
+library door, and saw May reading, whilst Constance Bride sat writing
+at the table.
+
+"Come, both of you!"
+
+Surprised at the look and tone with which they were summoned, the two
+followed into the drawing-room, where, guided by Lady Ogram's glance,
+they became aware of a new ornament. They approached; they gazed; they
+wondered.
+
+"Who is that?" asked their conductress, turning to Miss Bride.
+
+Constance felt no doubt as to the person whom the bust was supposed to
+represent, and her disgust at what she thought the shameless flattery
+practised by the sculptor hardly allowed her to reply.
+
+"Of course," she said, in as even a voice as possible, "it is a
+portrait of Miss Tomalin."
+
+Lady Ogram's eyes shone; on the point of laughing, she restrained
+herself, and looked at her niece.
+
+"May, what do _you_ think?"
+
+"Really, aunt, I don't know what to think," answered the girl, in a
+happy confusion. "If Miss Bride is right--it's very, very kind of you.
+But how was it done without my sitting?"
+
+This time, the old lady's mirth had its way.
+
+"How, indeed! There's a mystery for you both, my dears!--May, it's true
+you are like me, but don't let Constance make you conceited. Go near,
+and look at the date carved on the marble."
+
+"Why, aunt, of course it is you yourself!" exclaimed the girl, her
+averted face long-drawn in mortification; she saw the smile with which
+Miss Bride had received this disclosure. "How wonderful!"
+
+"You can hardly believe it?"
+
+Some incredulity might have been excused in one who turned from that
+superb head, with its insolent youth and beauty, to the painted
+death-mask grinning there before it. Yet the marble had not flattered,
+and, looking closely enough, you saw a reminiscence of its contour in
+the bloodless visage which, since that proud moment, had chronicled the
+passions of three-score years.
+
+"How stupid not to have understood at once," said May, the epithet
+privately directed towards Constance.
+
+"It's a magnificent bust!" declared Miss Bride, examining it now with
+sincere interest. "Who was the sculptor, Lady Ogram?"
+
+"My husband," answered the old lady, with pride. "Sir Quentin had much
+talent, and this was the best thing he ever did."
+
+"And it has just come into your possession?" asked May.
+
+"No, my dear. But I thought you would like to see it."
+
+An hour later, Dyce Lashmar arrived. He was conducted at once to the
+drawing-room, where Lady Ogram still sat with May and Constance.
+
+"I expected you," cried the senile voice, on a high note.
+
+"I heard the news at dinner-time yesterday;" said Lashmar. "Just caught
+the last train, and sat up half the night with Breakspeare."
+
+"I sent you a telegram the first thing this morning," said Lady Ogram.
+"Had you left Alverholme before it arrived?"
+
+"I was in town," answered Dyce, only now remembering that he had to
+account for his movements. "A letter called me up yesterday morning."
+
+The old autocrat was in no mood for trifling explanations. She passed
+the point, and began to ask the news from Hollingford. Who would be the
+Conservative candidate? They talked, said Dyce, of a stranger to the
+town, a man named Butterworth, one of Robb's private friends.
+
+"It's Butterworth of the hoardings--Butterworth's jams and pickles, you
+know. He's made a million out of them, and now thinks of turning his
+energies to the public service. Robb, it seems, didn't mean to face
+another election, and of late had privately spoken here and there of
+Butterworth."
+
+"Jams and pickles!" cried Lady Ogram, with a croaking laugh. "Will the
+Hollingford Tories stand that?"
+
+"Why not? Robb evidently thought they would, and he knew them.
+Butterworth is a stout Unionist, I'm told, and if he makes another
+million he may look for a peerage. Jam has not hitherto been thought so
+respectable as ale or stout, but that's only a prejudice. Robb's
+enlightened mind saw the budding aristocrat. Breakspeare is thinking
+out an article on the deceased champion of aristocratic traditions, to
+be followed by another on the blazonry of the jam-pot and pickle-jar.
+We shall have merry reading when decorum releases our friend's pen."
+
+As his eyes stole towards May Tomalin, Dyce perceived the marble bust.
+He gazed at it in silent surprise. The looks of all were upon him;
+turning, he met smiles of inquiry.
+
+"Well?" said Lady Ogram, bluntly.
+
+"Who is that? Is it a new work?" he inquired, with diffidence.
+
+"It looks new, doesn't it?"
+
+"I should have thought," said Dyce, reflectively, "that it represented
+Lady Ogram at about the same age as in the painting."
+
+"Constance," exclaimed the old lady, vastly pleased, "congratulate Mr.
+Lashmar."
+
+"Then I am right," cried Dyce, encountering Constance's look. "What a
+fine bit of work! What a magnificent head!"
+
+He moved nearer to it, and continued freely to express his admiration.
+The resemblance to May Tomalin had struck him, he thought it probable
+that some sculptor had amused himself by idealising the girl's
+suggestive features; but at this juncture it seemed to him more
+prudent, as in any case it would be politic, to affect to see only a
+revival of Lady Ogram's youth. It startled him to find that his tact
+had guided him so well.
+
+He continued to behave with all prudence, talking through luncheon
+chiefly with the hostess, and directing hardly a remark to May, who, on
+her side, maintained an equal discretion. Afterwards, he saw Lady Ogram
+in private.
+
+"You mean to stay on at the hotel, no doubt," she said. "Yes, it'll be
+more convenient for you than if you came here. But look in and let us
+know how things go on. Let me see, to-morrow is Wednesday; don't come
+to-morrow. On Thursday I may have something to tell you; yes, come and
+lunch on Thursday. You understand--on Thursday. And there's something
+else I may as well say at once; the expenses of the election are my
+affair."
+
+Dyce began a grateful protest, but was cut short.
+
+"I say that is my affair. We'll talk about it when the fight is over.
+No petty economies! In a day or two, when things are in order, we must
+have Breakspeare here. Perhaps you had better go away for the day of
+Robb's funeral. Yes, don't be seen about on that day. Spare no useful
+expense; I give you a free hand. Only win; that's all I ask of you. I
+shan't like it if you're beaten by jams and pickles. And lunch here on
+Thursday--you understand?"
+
+Dyce had never known the old autocrat so babblingly iterative. Nor had
+he ever beheld her in such a mood of gaiety, of exultation.
+
+"Go and have a word with Constance," she said at length. "I rather
+think she's going into the town; if so, you can go together. She's in
+great spirits. It isn't her way to talk much, but I can see she feels
+very hopeful. By the bye, I'm expecting Sir William before dinner--Sir
+William Amys, you know. He may be here still when you come on Thursday."
+
+Why Lady Ogram should be so careful to conceal the fact' that Lord
+Dymchurch was expected, Dyce found it difficult to understand. But it
+was clear that Dymchurch had been invited in the hope, perhaps the
+certainty, that he would propose to May Tomalin. That he was coming at
+all seemed, indeed, decisive as to his intentions. Plainly, the old
+schemer had formed this project at the time of her visit to London,
+and, improbable as the thing would have appeared to any one knowing
+Dymchurch, she was carrying it successfully through. On the one side;
+but how about May? Dyce tried to assure himself that, being in love
+with _him_, May would vainly be wooed by anyone else. But had she the
+courage to hold out against her imperious relative? Could she safely do
+so? The situation was extremely disquieting. He wished it were possible
+to see May alone, even for a minute. But he did not see her at all,
+and, as Lady Ogram had suggested, he found himself obliged to return to
+Hollingford in Constance's company. They drove in the landau. On the
+way, Dyce made known to his companion Lady Ogram's generous intentions.
+
+"I knew she would do that," said Constance, regarding him with the
+smile which betrayed her inmost thoughts.
+
+Because of the proximity of their coachman, they talked in subdued
+tones, their heads close together. To Lashmar this intimacy meant
+nothing at all; Constance, in his busy thoughts, was as good as
+non-existent. He had remarked with vexation the aspect of renewed
+vigour presented by Lady Ogram, and would have spoken of it, but that
+he felt ashamed to do so.
+
+"Don't you think," asked his companion, "that everything is going
+wonderfully well with you?"
+
+"It looks so, for the present."
+
+"And, after all, whom have you to thank for it?"
+
+"I don't forget," Dyce replied, wondering whether she alluded to the
+fact of her having introduced him to the mistress of Rivenoak, or to
+the terms of their engagement.
+
+"If you win the election, don't you think it would be graceful not only
+to feel, but to show, a little gratitude?"
+
+She spoke in a voice which once more reminded him of the summer-house
+on that rainy morning, a voice very unlike her ordinary utterance, soft
+and playfully appealing.
+
+"Don't be so severe on me," answered Dyce, with a laugh. "I am not
+_all_ self-interest."
+
+He added what was meant for a reassuring look, and began to talk of
+electioneering details.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+Lady Ogram's life had been much guided by superstition. No one knew it,
+or suspected it, for this was among the tokens of her origin which she
+carefully kept out of sight. Through all the phases of her avowed
+belief, she remained subject to a private religion of omens and
+auspices, which frequently influenced her conduct. Thus, she would long
+ago have brought forth and displayed that marble visage of her beauty
+in its prime, but for a superstitious fear which withheld her. On the
+night before Sir Quentin's death, she dreamt that she ascended to the
+garret, took the bust in her arms, and carried it downstairs. Many
+years went by, and again she had the same dream; the next day her first
+serious illness fell upon her, and, remembering the vision, she gave
+herself up for lost; but the sign this time had less than fatal
+significance. Now once more, on the Sunday night of the present week,
+she seemed to enter the locked garret, and to carry away the marble.
+All Monday she lived in a great dread, but at evening came the news
+that her arch-enemy was no more, and behold the vision explained!
+
+On Monday night she dreamt not at all, being kept awake by exultation
+in what had happened and forecast of triumphs soon to be enjoyed. But
+her thoughts turned constantly to the graven image which she longed to
+see, and, by a process of reasoning natural to such a mind as hers, she
+persuaded herself that now was the moment to fulfil her desire. The
+bust once brought down, she would not again dream of going to seek it,
+and, consequently, it could not serve again to augur evil. Not without
+tremors, she executed her resolve, and, the thing once done, her joy
+was boundless. Looking on that marble face, she seemed to recover
+something of the strength and spirit it had immortalised.
+Notwithstanding her restless night, she felt so clear in mind, so well
+in body, that the forebodings which had perturbed her since her
+exhausting visit to London were quite dismissed. To-day Lord Dymchurch
+was coming; to-morrow May's betrothal would be a fact to noise abroad.
+She would then summon Kerchever, and in the presence of Sir William
+Amys, the trusty friend sure to outlive her, would complete that last
+will and testament which was already schemed out. Twice already had she
+executed a will, the second less than a year ago. When in town, she had
+sufficiently discussed with her man of law the new situation brought
+about by her discovery of May Tomalin; but the hope which she connected
+with Lord Dymchurch bade her postpone awhile the solemn signature. All
+had come to pass even as she desired, as she resolved it should. To the
+end she was supreme in her own world.
+
+When her guests arrived--all travelled from London by the same
+train--she received them royally. She had clad herself with unusual
+magnificence; on the shrivelled parchment of her cheeks shone an
+audacious bloom; her eyes gleamed as if in them were concentrated all
+the proud life which still resisted age and malady. Rising from her
+bowered throne in the drawing-room, she took a step towards Lady Amys,
+pressed her hand cordially--not at all feebly--and welcomed her with
+affectionate words. The baronet she addressed as "Willy," but with such
+a dignity of kindness in the familiar name that it was like bestowal of
+an honour. Towards the peer her bearing was marked with grave courtesy,
+softening to intimate notes as their conversation progressed. Scarce a
+touch of senility sounded in her speech; she heard perfectly, indulged
+in no characteristic brusquerie of phrase, fulfilled every formality
+proper to the occasion.
+
+Sir William and his wife were the only people of their world who had
+always seen the lady of Rivenoak in her better aspect; who, whilst
+appreciating the comedy of her life, regarded her with genuine
+friendship. They understood the significance of Lord Dymchurch's visit,
+and, like Mrs. Toplady, though in a much more human spirit, awaited
+with amusement the successful issue of Lady Ogram's scheme. They saw no
+harm in it. Dymchurch, it might well be, had fallen in love with the
+handsome girl, and it was certain that her wealth would be put to much
+better use in his hands than in those of the ordinary man who weds
+money. Lady Ogram's deliberate choice of this landless peer assuredly
+did her credit. She wanted the peerage for her niece; but it would not
+have been difficult to gratify her ambition in a more brilliant way,
+had she cared less for the girl's welfare. Society being what it is,
+they did not see how their energetic old friend could have acted more
+prudently and kindly.
+
+At dinner there was much pleasant talk. The baronet's vein of humourous
+criticism flowed freely. Walking through London streets this morning,
+his eye had caught sight of a couple of posters which held him in
+meditation.
+
+"One was a huge picture of an ox, and beneath it one read in great
+letters that sixty thousand bullocks are annually slaughtered for the
+manufacture of Nokes's beef-tea. The other advertised Stokes's pills,
+and informed the world, in still bigger lettering, that, every minute
+of the day, seven of these pills 'reached their destination.'
+Delightful phrase! 'Reached their destination.' And this, you see, is
+how we adorn the walls of our cities. It is not only permitted, but
+favoured. I am quite sure that a plebiscite, if some more civilised
+alternative were offered, would pronounce in favor of the bullocks and
+the pills, as much more interesting. Yet to my mind, spoilt by
+pottering among old pictures, that bit of wall was so monstrous in its
+hideousness that I stood moon-stricken, and even yet I haven't got over
+it. I shall dream to-night of myriads of bullocks massacred for
+beef-tea, and of an endless procession of pills--reaching their
+destination. I ask myself, in my foolish theoretic way, what earthly
+right we have to lay claim to civilisation. How much better it would be
+always to speak of ourselves as barbarians. We should then, perhaps,
+make some endeavour to improve. The barbarian who imagines himself on
+the pinnacle of refinement is in a parlous state--far more likely to
+retrograde than to advance."
+
+"There should be a league of landowners," said Miss Tomalin, "pledged
+to forbid any such horror on their own property."
+
+"I don't know that I have much faith in leagues," returned Sir William.
+"I am a lost individualist. Let everyone try to civilise himself;
+depend upon it, it's the best work he can do for the world at large."
+
+"And yet," put in Lord Dymchurch, "the world can't do without apostles.
+Do you think mere example has ever availed much?"
+
+"Perhaps not. I would say that I don't care. Do you really believe that
+the world ever _will_ be much more civilised than it is? In successive
+epochs, there are more or fewer persons of liberal mind--that's all;
+the proportion rises and falls. Why should we trouble about it? Let
+those of us who really dislike the ox and pill placards, keep as much
+out of sight of them as possible, that's all. It doesn't do to think
+over much about the problems of life. Nowadays almost everybody seems
+to feel it a duty to explain the universe, and with strange results.
+For instance, I read an article last night, a most profound article,
+altogether too much for my poor head, on the question of right and
+wrong. Really, I had supposed that I knew the difference between right
+and wrong; in my blundering way, I had always tried to act on the
+knowledge. But this writer proves to me that I shall have to begin all
+over again. 'Morality,' he says, 'depends upon cerebral oxidation.'
+That's a terrible dictum for a simpleminded man. If I am not cerebrally
+oxidised, or oxidally cerebrised, in the right degree, it's all over
+with my hopes of leading a moral life. I'm quite sure that a large
+number of people are worrying over that article, and asking how they
+can oxidise if not their own cerebellum, at all events that of their
+offspring."
+
+"Man and nature," said Lord Dymchurch presently, "have such different
+views about the good of the world."
+
+"That," exclaimed the baronet, "is a very striking remark. Let me give
+you an illustration of its truth. Years ago I had an intimate friend, a
+wonderfully clever man, who wrote and published a delightful little
+book. Few such books have ever been written; it was a marvel of
+delicate thought and of exquisite style. The half-dozen readers who
+could appreciate it cried aloud that this man had a great future, that
+his genius was a jewel which the world would for ever prize--and so on.
+Well, my friend married, and since then he has written nothing, nor
+will he ever again. I know people who lament his fate, who declare that
+marriage was his ruin, and a crime against civilisation. The other day,
+I called upon him--not having seen him for ages. I found a rather
+uncomfortable little house, a pretty, dull little wife, and three
+beautiful children in the most vigorous health. 'Alas!' said my friend
+to me in private, 'I try to work, but I can do nothing. I need absolute
+tranquillity, such as I had when I wrote my book. I try, but domestic
+life is fatal to me.' Now, what better example of what you say, Lord
+Dymchurch? To _us_ it seems a misfortune to the world that this man
+didn't live on in bachelorhood and write more exquisite books. But
+nature says 'What do I care for his _books_?' 'Look at his _children_!'
+That's what she meant him for, and from Nature's point of view he is a
+triumphant success."
+
+Dymchurch seemed not only amused, but pleased. He grew thoughtful, and
+sat smiling to himself whilst others carried on the conversation.
+
+The evening passed. Lady Amys gave the signal of retirement; May and
+Constance followed; the baronet and the peer chatted for yet a few
+minutes with their hostess, then bade her good-night. But, just as he
+was leaving the room, Dymchurch heard Lady Ogram call his name; he
+stepped back towards her.
+
+"I forgot to tell you," she said, "that Mr. Lashmar will lunch with us
+the day after to-morrow. Of course he is very busy at Hollingford."
+
+"I shall be glad to see him," replied the other, cordially. "I wish I
+could help him in any way."
+
+Lady Ogram resumed her seat. She was looking at the marble bust, and
+Dymchurch, following the direction of her eyes, also regarded it.
+
+"Until this morning," she said, "I hadn't seen that for more than fifty
+years. I would tell you why--but I should only send you to sleep."
+
+Her guest begged to hear the story, and sat down to listen. Though the
+day had been so unusually long and fatiguing, Lady Ogram seemed to feel
+no effect of it; her eyes were still lustrous she held herself with as
+much dignity as when the guests arrived. She began a narrative of such
+clearness and vigour that the listener never thought of doubting its
+truth; yet the story of her youth as the lady of Rivenoak wished Lord
+Dymchurch to receive it differed in very important points from that
+which her memory preserved. Not solely, nor indeed chiefly, on her own
+account did Arabella thus falsify the past; it was as the ancestress of
+May Tomalin that she spoke, and on behalf of May's possible children.
+Dymchurch, looking back into years long before he was born, saw a
+beautiful maiden of humble birth loyally wooed and wedded by a romantic
+artist, son of a proud baronet. Of course she became the butt of
+calumny, which found its chief support in the fact that the young
+artist had sculptured her portrait, and indiscreetly shown it to
+friends, before their marriage. Hearing these slanderous rumours, she
+wished all the work which represented her to be destroyed, and her
+husband led her to believe that this was done; but on succeeding to the
+title, and coming to live at Rivenoak, Sir Quentin confessed that he
+had not been able to destroy that marble bust which was his joy and his
+pride; he undertook, however, to keep it hidden under lock and key, and
+only this day, this very day, had it come forth again into the light.
+
+"I am an old, old woman," she said, not without genuine pathos in her
+utterance. "I have long outlived the few who were my enemies and spoke
+ill of me, as well as those who knew the truth and held me in respect.
+I fear no one. I wanted to see how I looked when I was a girl, and I
+confess I am glad for others to see it, too."
+
+Dymchurch murmured that nothing could be more natural.
+
+"I was almost as good-looking as May, don't you think?" she asked, with
+a not very successful affectation of diffidence.
+
+"There is a likeness," answered Dymchurch. "But--"
+
+She interrupted his effort to describe the points of difference.
+
+"You very much prefer the other face. That doesn't surprise me and you
+needn't be afraid to confess it. May is much better-tempered than I
+was, and she looks it. Did I ever tell you how she is related to me? I
+call her my niece, but she is really the grand-daughter of my brother,
+who emigrated to Canada."
+
+Thereupon Lady Ogram sketched a portrait of that brother, depicting him
+as a fine specimen of the colonising Briton, breezy, sturdy, honest to
+the core. She traced the history of the Canadian family, which in the
+direct line had now no representative but May. Of her long search for
+the Tomalins she did not think it necessary to speak; but, turning hack
+to her own history, she told of the son she had lost, and how all her
+affections were now bestowed upon this young girl, who in truth had
+become to her as a daughter. Then, discreetly, with no undue
+insistence, she made known her intention to endow May Tomalin with the
+greater part of her fortune.
+
+"I have lived long enough to know that money is not happiness, but in
+the right hands it is a great and good thing. I have no fear of the use
+May will make of it, and you can't know what a pleasure it is to be
+able to give it to her, to one of my own blood, my own name, instead of
+leaving it to strangers, as I once feared I must.--But," she broke off
+suddenly in a changed voice, "here I keep you listening to my old
+tales, when you ought to be asleep. Good-night, Lord Dymchurch!
+To-morrow you must see Rivenoak. Good-night!"
+
+For her, there was again no sleep. The weather had changed; through the
+open window breathed a cool, sweet air, very refreshing after the high
+temperature of the last few days; but Lady Ogram in vain closed her
+eyes and tried to lull her thoughts to rest. It disappointed her that
+Dymchurch, in reply to her confidences, had spoken no decisive word. Of
+course he would declare himself on the morrow; he would have every
+opportunity for private talk with May, and of the issue there could be
+no serious doubt. But Lady Ogram's nerves were tortured with
+impatience. In the glimmer of dawn, she wished to rise and walk about,
+but found herself unequal to the effort. Her head ached; her blood was
+feverish. Though it was a thing she hated to do, she summoned the
+attendant who lay in an adjoining room.
+
+At mid-day she was able to descend At the foot of the stairs, she
+encountered Constance Bride, who stood glancing over a book.
+
+"What are they all doing?" was her first question. And, before
+Constance could reply, she asked "Where is Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+"I saw him not long ago in the garden."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"No, with Miss Tomalin."
+
+"Why didn't you say so at once? Where are the others? Tell them I am
+down."
+
+Constance delayed replying for a moment, then said with cold
+respectfulness:
+
+"You will find Sir William and Lady Amys in the drawing-room."
+
+"I shall find them there, shall I? And what if I don't wish to go into
+the drawing-room?"
+
+Constance looked into the angry face. In the book she was carrying, a
+French volume arrived by post this morning, she had found things which
+troubled her mind and her temper; she was in no mood for submitting to
+harsh dictatorship. But those blood-shot eyes and shrivelled lips, the
+hollow temples and drawn cheeks which told of physical suffering,
+stilled her irritation.
+
+"I will tell them at once, Lady Ogram."
+
+Dymchurch and May Tomalin had strayed from the garden into the park.
+They were sitting on a bench which encircled a great old tree. For some
+minutes neither had spoken. Dymchurch held in his hand a last year's
+leaf, brown, crisp, but still perfect in shape; he smiled dreamily,
+and, as his eyes wandered to the girl's face, said in a soft undertone:
+
+"How easily one loses oneself in idle thoughts! I was asking myself
+where this grew--on which branch, which twig; and it seemed strange to
+me that by no possibility could anyone discover it."
+
+May had not a very high opinion of her companion's intelligence, but it
+struck her this morning he was duller than usual. She humoured him,
+replying with her philosophical air:
+
+"No, indeed! Yet we try to find out how life began, and what the world
+means."
+
+Dymchurch was pleased. He liked to find her capable of such a
+reflection. It encouraged the movements of vague tenderness which had
+begun to justify a purpose formed rather in the mind than in the heart.
+
+"Yes! Amusing, isn't it? But you, I think, don't trouble much about
+such questions."
+
+"It seems to me waste of time."
+
+She was thinking of Dyce Lashmar, asking herself whether she would meet
+him, or not, to-morrow morning. Certainly she wished to do so. Lashmar
+at a distance left her coolly reasonable; she wanted to recover the
+emotional state of mind which had come about during their stolen
+interview. With Lord Dymchurch, though his attentions were flattering,
+she could not for a moment imagine herself touched by romantic feeling.
+
+"So it is," he was saying. "To waste time in that way has always been
+one of my bad habits. But I am going to get rid of it."
+
+He seemed on the point of adding more significant words. May heard the
+sound fail in his throat; saw without looking at him--his sudden
+embarrassment. When the words came, as surely they would, what was to
+be her answer? She hoped for inspiration. Why should it be necessary
+for her to make precise reply? No! She would not. Freedom and the
+exercise of power were what she wanted. Enough to promise her answer a
+month, or half a year, hence. If the old lady didn't like it, let her
+learn patience.
+
+Dymchurch sat bending forward. The dry leaf crackled between his
+fingers; he was crushing it to powder.
+
+"Who," he asked, "is the lady Miss Bride was speaking of, in connection
+with the servant's training-school?"
+
+"Mrs. Gallantry. A good, active sort of woman at Hollingford."
+
+"That scheme doesn't interest you much?"
+
+"Not very much, I confess. I quite approve of it. It's just the kind of
+thing for people like Miss Bride, plodding and practical; no doubt
+they'll make it very useful. But I have rather lost my keenness for
+work of that sort. Perhaps I have grown out of it. Of course I wish as
+much as ever for the good of the lower classes, but I feel that my own
+work will lie in another direction."
+
+"Tell me what you have in mind," said Dymchurch, meeting her look with
+soft eyes.
+
+"What I really care about now is the spirit of the educated class.
+There's such a great deal to be done among people of our own kind. Not
+of course by direct teaching and preaching, but by personal influence,
+exercised in all sorts of ways. I should like to set the intellectual
+tone in my own circle. I should like my house to--as it were, to
+radiate light."
+
+The listener could not but smile. Yet his amusement had no tincture of
+irony. He himself would not have used these phrases, but was not the
+thought exactly what he had in mind? He, too, felt his inaptitude for
+the ordinary forms of "social" usefulness; in his desire and his
+resolve to "do something," he had been imagining just this sort of
+endeavour, and May's words seemed to make it less vague.
+
+"I quite understand you," he exclaimed, with some fervour. "There's
+plenty of scope for that sort of influence. You would do your best to
+oppose the tendencies of vulgar and selfish society. If only in a
+little circle one could set the fashion of thought, of living for
+things that are worth while! And I see no impossibility. It has been
+done before now."
+
+"I'm very glad you like the idea," said May, graciously. Again--without
+looking at him--she saw his lips shaping words which they could not
+sound; she saw his troubled, abashed smile, and his uneasy movement
+which ended in nothing at all.
+
+"We have some fine trees at Rivenoak," fell from her, as her eyes
+wandered.
+
+"Indeed you have!"
+
+"You like trees, don't you?"
+
+"Very much. When I was a boy, I once saw a great many splendid oaks and
+beeches cut down, and it made me miserable."
+
+"Where was that?"
+
+"On land that had belonged to my father, and, which, for a year or two,
+belonged to me."
+
+He spoke with an uneasy smile, again crushing a brown leaf between his
+fingers. May's silence compelled him to proceed.
+
+"I have no trees now." He tried to laugh. "Only a bit of a farm, which
+seems to be going out of cultivation."
+
+"But why do you let it do so?"
+
+"It's in the hands of a troublesome tenant. If I had been wise, I
+should have learnt to farm it myself, years ago. Perhaps I shall still
+do so."
+
+"That would be interesting," said May. "Tell me about it, will you?
+It's in Kent, I think?"
+
+The impoverished peer spoke freely of the matter. He had been seeking
+this opportunity since the beginning of their talk. Yet, before he had
+ceased, moral discomfort took hold upon him, and his head drooped in
+shame. The silence which followed--May was saying to herself that now,
+now the moment had come did but increase his embarrassment. He wished
+to speak of his sisters, to hint at their circumstances, but the thing
+was impossible. In desperation, he broke into some wholly foreign
+subject, and for this morning, all hope of the decisive step had passed.
+
+The day brought no other opportunity. Towards midnight, Dymchurch sat
+at the open window of his chamber, glad to be alone, anxious,
+self-reproachful. To-morrow he must discharge what had become an
+obvious duty, however difficult it might be.
+
+He had received a long letter from the younger of his sisters. It spoke
+of the other's ill health, a subject of disquiet for the past month,
+and went on to discuss a topic which frequently arose in this
+correspondence the authority of the Church of Rome. A lady who had just
+been passing a fortnight at the house in Somerset was a Catholic, and
+Dymchurch suspected her of proselytism; from the tone of the present
+letter it appeared that her arguments had had considerable success.
+Though impartial in his judgment of the old faith, Dymchurch felt
+annoyed and depressed at the thought that one of his sisters, or both,
+might turn in that direction; he explained their religious unrest by
+the solitude and monotony of their lives, for which it seemed to him
+that he himself was largely to blame. Were he to marry May Tomalin,
+everything would at once, he thought, be changed for the better; his
+sisters might come forth from their seclusion, mingle with wholesome
+society, and have done with more or less morbid speculation.
+
+He had gone so far that honour left him no alternative. And he had gone
+thus far because it pleased him to do a thing which broke utterly with
+his habits and prejudices, which put him into a position such as he had
+never foreseen. He was experimenting in life.
+
+May, he told himself, behaved very well. Never for a moment had she
+worn the air of invitation; a smirk was a thing unknown to her; the
+fact of his titular dignity she seemed wholly to disregard. Whatever
+her faults he saw most of them--she had the great virtue of
+unaffectedness. Assuredly he liked her; he could not feel certain that
+even a warmer sentiment had not begun to breathe within him. As for
+May's willingness to marry him, why, at all events, it appeared a
+probability. They had some intellectual sympathies, which were likely
+to increase rather than diminish. And, if the marriage would be for him
+a great material benefit, he hoped that May also might profit by it.
+
+Lady Ogram desired their union, that was clear. That she should have
+made choice of _him_, was not easy to explain, for surely she might
+have wedded her niece more advantageously. But then, Lady Ogram was no
+mere intriguer; he thought her, on the whole, a woman of fine
+character, with certain defects so obvious that they could never be the
+means of misleading anyone. She was acting, undoubtedly, in what she
+deemed the best interests of her young relative--and _he_ could hardly
+accuse her of having made a mistake.
+
+Pacing the room, he took up a review, opened at a philosophical
+article, and tried to read.
+
+"Why does man exist? Why does _anything_ exist? Manifestly because the
+operations of the energies of nature, under the particular group of
+conditions, compel it, just in the same way that they cause everything
+else to happen."
+
+He paused, and re-read the passage. Was it satire or burlesque? No, he
+saw that the writer meant it for a serious contribution to human
+knowledge. In disgust he flung the periodical aside. This was the kind
+of stuff that people feed upon nowadays, a result of the craze for
+quasi-scientific phraseology, for sonorous explanations of the
+inexplicable. Why does man exist, forsooth!--To guard his lips against
+the utterances of foolishness, and to be of what use in the world he
+may.
+
+Before mid-day on the morrow, he would offer May Tomalin his heart and
+hand, offer both with glad sincerity, disregarding all else but the
+fact that to this point had destiny brought him.
+
+He thought of her humble origin, and rejoiced in it. His own family
+history was an illustration of how a once genuinely noble house might
+fall into decay if not renewed by alliances with more vigorous blood.
+May Tomalin had perfect health: she represented generations of hardy,
+simple folk, their energy of late recruited in the large air of Canada.
+Why, had he gone forth deliberately to seek the kind of wife best
+suited to him, he could not have done better than chance had done for
+him in his indolent shirking existence. If he had children, they might
+be robust and comely. In May's immediate connections, there was nothing
+to cause embarrassment; as to her breeding it would compare more than
+favourably with that of many high-born young ladies whom Society
+delights to honour. Of such young ladies he had always thought with a
+peculiar dread. If ever he allowed himself to dream of love and
+marriage, his mind turned to regions where fashion held no sway, where
+ambitions were humble. May Tomalin stood between the two worlds,
+representing a mean which would perchance prove golden.
+
+So determined and courageous was his mood when he fell asleep that it
+did not permit him long slumbers. A bright sunrise gleaming on a sky
+which in the night had shed cool showers tempted him to rise much
+before his usual time. He turned over a volume or two from the shelves
+in the bedroom, seeking thus to keep his nerves steady and to tune his
+mind. Presently he thought he would take a stroll before breakfast. It
+was nearly eight o'clock; servants would be about and the door open. He
+left his room.
+
+Passing a great window at the end of the corridor, he glanced out upon
+the garden lying behind the house. Some one was walking there it was no
+other than May herself. She moved quickly, in the direction of the
+park; evidently bent on a ramble before her friends were stirring.
+Better chance could not have befallen him. He went quickly downstairs.
+
+But, when he had made his way to that part of the grounds where May had
+appeared, she was no longer discoverable. He strode on in what seemed
+the probable direction, taking, as a matter of fact, the wrong path; it
+brought him into the park, but at a point whence he looked in vain for
+the girl's figure. This was vexatious. Should he linger here for her
+return, or step out at a venture? He strolled vaguely for some minutes,
+coming at length into a path which promised pleasant things. Perhaps
+May had gone to the basky hollow yonder. If he missed her, they were
+sure of meeting after breakfast.
+
+He walked towards the clustered trees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+Piqued by the uneventfulness of the preceding day, May Tomalin stole
+forth this morning in a decidedly adventurous frame of mind. She
+scorned danger; she desired excitement. Duplicity on her part was no
+more than Lord Dymchurch merited after that deliberate neglect of
+opportunity under the great tree. Of course nothing irrevocable must
+come to pass; it was the duty of man to commit himself, the privilege
+of woman to guard an ambiguous freedom. But, within certain limits, she
+counted on dramatic incidents. A brisk answer to her tap on the door in
+the park wall made her nerves thrill delightfully. No sooner had she
+turned the key than the door was impatiently pushed open from without.
+
+"Quick!" sounded Lashmar's voice. "I hear wheels on the road.--Ha! Just
+in time! It might be someone who would recognise me."
+
+He had grasped May's hand. He was gazing eagerly, amorously into her
+face. His emotions had matured since the meeting two days ago.
+
+"Tell me all the news," he went on. "Is Dymchurch here?"
+
+"Yes. And the others. You come to lunch to-day, of course? You will see
+them."
+
+She recovered her hand, though not without a little struggle, which
+pleased her. For all her academic modernism, May belonged to the class
+which has primitive traditions, unsophisticated instincts.
+
+"And what has happened?" asked Dyce, advancing as she stepped back. He
+spoke like one who has a right to the fullest information.
+
+"Happened? Nothing particular. What could have happened?"
+
+"I have been tormenting myself. Of course I know why Dymchurch has
+come, and so do you. I can't go away in a horrible uncertainty. If I
+do, I shall betray myself when I come to luncheon, so I give you
+warning."
+
+"What do you mean!" exclaimed the girl, with an air of dignity
+surprised.
+
+"Tell me the truth. Has Dymchurch spoken?"
+
+"Many times," answered May; smiling with excessive ingenuousness. "He
+is not very talkative, but he doesn't keep absolute silence--I hear
+that you have been to see Mrs. Gallantry."
+
+"What do I care about Mrs. Gallantry! I've seen no end of people, but
+all the time I was thinking of you. Yesterday morning, I all but wrote
+to you."
+
+"What about?"
+
+"All sorts of things. Of course I should have disguised my handwriting
+in the address."
+
+May avoided his look, and shaped her lips to severity. "If you had done
+such a thing--I should have been greatly displeased. I'm very glad you
+didn't so far forget yourself."
+
+"So am I, now. Won't you tell me if anything has happened. Won't you
+put my mind at ease?"
+
+"I can stay only for a few minutes. There's really nothing to
+tell--nothing. But _you_ must have plenty of news. How are things going
+on?"
+
+Lashmar hurriedly told of two or three circumstances which seemed to
+favour him in the opening campaign. There was now no doubt that
+Butterworth would be the Conservative candidate, and, on the whole, his
+name appeared to excite but moderate enthusiasm. He broke off with an
+impatient gesture.
+
+"I can't talk about that stuff! It's waste of time, whilst I am with
+you."
+
+"But it interests me very much," said May, who seemed to grow calmer as
+Dyce yielded to agitation. "Lord Dymchurch says he would gladly help
+you, if it were in his power. Don't you think he _might_ be of some
+use?"
+
+"No, I don't. Dymchurch is a dreaming nobody."
+
+"What a strange way to speak of him!" said May, as if slightly
+offended. "You used to have quite a different opinion."
+
+"Perhaps so. I didn't know him so well. There's nothing whatever in the
+man, and he'll never do anything as long as he lives. You know that as
+well as I do."
+
+"I think you are mistaken," May answered, in an absent voice, her look
+betraying some travail of the mind, as if she were really debating with
+herself the question of Dymchurch's prospects.
+
+"Do you mean that?" cried Lashmar, with annoyance.
+
+"I certainly shouldn't call him a 'dreaming nobody,'" replied May, in
+the tone of dignified reproof. "Lord Dymchurch is very thoughtful, and
+very well-informed, and has very high principles."
+
+"One may admit all that. All I meant was that there is no career before
+him. Would anyone dream of comparing him, for instance, with me? You
+needn't smile. You remember the talk we had at Mrs. Toplady's, that
+evening. I know my own qualities, and see no use in pretending that I
+don't.--But what are we talking about! Of course you care nothing for
+Dymchurch. I know that very well. If you did, you wouldn't be here."
+
+He ended on a little laugh of triumph, and therewith, catching hold of
+both her hands, he drew her gently forward, looked close into her face,
+murmured "May! My beautiful May!" In that moment there came the
+strangest look upon May's countenance, a look of alarm, almost of
+terror. Her eyes were turned to a spot among the trees, some ten yards
+away. Dyce, seeing the sudden change of her expression, turned in the
+direction of her gaze. He was just in time to perceive the back of a
+retreating figure, which disappeared behind bushes.
+
+"Who was that?" he asked in a startled voice.
+
+May could only whisper.
+
+"It was Lord Dymchurch."
+
+"I thought so. Confound that fellow! What is he doing here at this time
+of the morning?"
+
+"He saw us," said May, her cheeks burning. "Oh, who could have
+expected--! He saw us distinctly. I shouldn't wonder if he heard what
+you were saying Why," she added, angrily, "did you speak so loud?"
+
+"Nonsense! He couldn't hear at that distance."
+
+"But he had been nearer."
+
+"Then the fellow is a sneak! What right has he to steal upon us?"
+
+"He didn't!" cried the girl. "I saw him as he stopped. I saw his face,
+and how astonished he looked. He turned away instantly."
+
+"Well, what does it matter?" exclaimed Dyce, who was quivering with
+excitement. "What do I care? What need you care? Haven't we perfect
+liberty to meet? After all, what _does_ it matter?"
+
+"But you forget," said May, "that he knows of your engagement."
+
+"My engagement! Let him know, and let him think what he likes! My
+engagement, indeed! Why, I haven't once thought of it since I left
+London--not once! There'll have to be an end to this intolerable state
+of things. Dymchurch isn't likely to tell anyone what he sees; he's a
+gentleman."
+
+"I must go in at once," cried May, losing her head. "Somebody else may
+come. Go away, please! Don't stay another minute."
+
+"But it's impossible. We have to come to an understanding. Listen to
+me, May!"
+
+He grasped her hand, passed his other arm around her. There was
+resistance, but Dyce used his strength in earnest. The girl's beauty
+fired him; he became the fervid lover, leaving her no choice between
+high resentment and frank surrender. Indignation was dying out of May's
+look. She ceased to struggle, she bent her head to his shoulder.
+
+"Isn't that much better?" he whispered, laughingly. "Isn't that the way
+out of our difficulties?"
+
+May allowed him to breathe a few more such soothing sentences, then
+spoke with troubled accent.
+
+"But you don't understand. What must Lord Dymchurch think of
+me--believing that you are engaged?"
+
+"I'll tell him the truth. I'll go and tell him at once."
+
+"But still you don't understand. My aunt wants me to marry him."
+
+"I know she does, and know she'll be disappointed," cried Dyce,
+exultantly.
+
+"But do you suppose that Lord Dymchurch will stay here any longer? He
+will leave this very morning, I'm sure he will. My aunt will want to
+know what it means. There'll be dreadful explanations."
+
+"Keep calm, May. If we lose our courage, it's all over with us. We have
+to deal boldly with Lady Ogram. Remember that she is very old and weak;
+I'm perfectly sure she can't resist you and me if we speak to her in
+the proper way--quietly and reasonably and firmly. We have made up our
+minds, haven't we? You are mine, dearest May! There's no more doubt
+about _that_!"
+
+"Miss Bride will be our deadly enemy," said May, again yielding to his
+caresses.
+
+"Enemy!" Dyce exclaimed. "Why?"
+
+"Surely you don't need to be told. She dislikes me already (as I do
+her), and now she will hate me. She'll do her best to injure us with
+Lady Ogram."
+
+"You're mistaken. I have only to see her and talk to her--as I will,
+this morning. Before luncheon, she shall be firmly on our side, I
+promise you! Don't have the least anxiety about _her_. The only serious
+difficulty is with Lady Ogram."
+
+"You mean to tell Miss Bride the truth?" exclaimed May. "You mean to
+tell her what has happened this morning? I forbid you to do so! I
+_forbid_ you!"
+
+"I didn't mean anything of the kind," replied Lashmar. "To Dymchurch of
+course I shall speak quite freely: there's no choice. To Miss Bride I
+shall only say that I want our sham engagement to come to an end,
+because I am in love with _you_. The presence of Dymchurch here will be
+quite enough to explain my sudden action don't you see? I assure you,
+she must be made our friend, and I can do it."
+
+"If you do, it'll be a miracle," said May, with a face of utter
+misgiving.
+
+"It would be, perhaps, for any other man. Now, we have no time to lose.
+I must see Dymchurch immediately. I shall hurry round inside the park
+wall, and come up to the front of the house, like an ordinary visitor.
+Election business will account for the early hour, if Lady Ogram hears
+about it; but she isn't likely to be down before eleven, is she? Don't
+let us lose any more time, darling. Go back quietly, and let no one see
+that anything has happened. Don't worry; in a quarter of an hour,
+Dymchurch shall know that there's not a shadow of blame upon you."
+
+"He won't believe that story. If he does, he'll think it very
+dishonourable."
+
+Dyce checked the words in amorous fashion, but they conveyed an
+unpleasant truth, which he turned about in his mind as he hastened
+towards the interview with Dymchurch. For once in his life, however, he
+saw a clear course of action before him, indicated alike by interest
+and by honour. He was roused by supreme impulse and necessity; seeing
+him as he strode along, you might have supposed him bent on some very
+high purpose, so gallantly did he hold his head, and so radiant was his
+visage. There are men capable of viewing themselves as heroes in very
+unheroic situations, and Lashmar was one of them. Because his business
+with Dymchurch and with Constance would be distinctly disagreeable, and
+yet he was facing it without hesitation, his conscience praised him
+aloud. Nothing less than brilliant issue could be the reward of such
+noble energy.
+
+Meanwhile, May had begun to retrace her steps through the little wood.
+She wished to go quickly, but was afraid, if she did so, of overtaking
+Lord Dymchurch. In her, too, the self-approving mind was active; she
+applauded herself for having given the preference to love over
+ambition. With the choice of becoming a peeress, she had bestowed her
+beauty, intellect, wealth upon a man who had nothing to offer but his
+hopes. Was not this nobler than any nobility of rank? The
+sentimentality of a hundred novels surged within her; verses of
+Browning chanted in her brain. "Love is best!" She walked a heroine of
+passion. All obstacles would fall before her burning resolve. This was
+living in high romance!
+
+She passed from among the trees into the open park and there before her
+stood the man she least wished to see. He had evidently been waiting;
+he began to move towards her. A score of more or less ingenious lies
+rose to her tongue, instinctively; but she remembered that deceit was
+not called for. Lord Dymchurch had raised his hat. He looked very
+grave, but not at all ill-tempered. May did not offer her hand. After
+the "good-morning," he walked beside her, and at once began to speak.
+
+"I find I must leave Rivenoak, Miss Tomalin." His voice was low,
+gentle, not unkind.
+
+"Must you indeed, Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+"I'm afraid I must," he answered quietly.
+
+"I am _so_ sorry. But you will be able to see Lady Ogram?"
+
+"I fear not. I wish to leave almost at once."
+
+They were drawing near to the garden. Dymchurch paused, glanced at his
+companion with sad eyes, and, his look cast down, again spoke.
+
+"Miss Tomalin, I came here wishing to ask you to be my wife. Only a
+foolish shyness prevented me from doing so yesterday. This morning, I
+know that it would be too late. Pray forgive me for speaking of the
+matter at all. I feel obliged to explain myself. Perhaps I had better
+make the explanation complete by saying that I saw you go through the
+garden, and followed in the same direction, hoping for an opportunity
+of speaking with you alone."
+
+May felt that a man in this position could not well have conducted
+himself more kindly and delicately. No hint in look or voice that he
+thought her behaviour extraordinary; he had been defeated by a rival,
+that was all; his tone begged excuse for unwilling intrusion upon her
+privacy. But for the hopelessly compromising moment at which he had
+arrived, probably he would have given her all benefit of the doubt, and
+in one way or another, would still have prosecuted his wooing. Very
+nervous and confused, she made what seemed to her an appropriate answer.
+
+"Thank you very much, Lord Dymchurch. I had so hoped we could be
+friends--simply friends. Do let me think of you still in that way."
+
+"Will you give me a proof of friendship," said the other, smiling
+kindly, "by permitting me to tell Lady Ogram, in a note I shall leave
+for her, that you have declined my offer of marriage?"
+
+This, thought May, was indeed a smoothing of her difficulties. She
+glanced at the speaker with gratitude.
+
+"You will really do that? How generous of you, Lord Dymchurch!"
+
+"Allow me to leave you now, Miss Tomalin. I must prepare for my
+journey."
+
+May offered her hand. Dymchurch just perceptibly pressed it, saluted
+with the gravest politeness, and walked away.
+
+On the terrace before the house, he encountered Lashmar, who came up to
+him with a glowing countenance.
+
+"I hoped I should find you here. Nothing could be better. Just a
+moment's talk."
+
+Dyce had thrust out a hand, but as the other appeared not to see it, he
+drew it hack again as naturally as he could. Dymchurch stood waiting in
+an attitude of cold civility.
+
+"It's rather a delicate matter. Accident has obliged me to speak;
+otherwise, I shouldn't, of course, have troubled you with my private
+affairs. I wish to tell you that the engagement which once existed
+between Miss Bride and myself is at an end."
+
+"I presumed so," was the reply, spoken with unmoved features.
+
+"Also, that Miss Tomalin has for some days been aware of this state of
+things."
+
+"I took it for granted."
+
+"So that," Dyce continued, in a stumbling way, "you won't retain any
+disagreeable impression from this morning's incident? I am very glad
+indeed to have been able to see you at once. It puts an end to a
+natural uneasiness on both sides."
+
+"I am obliged to you," said Dymchurch.
+
+With a bow and a look past his interlocutor, he turned to enter the
+house.
+
+As soon as he had disappeared, Lashmar followed, and rang the door
+bell. Of the servant who came, he asked whether Miss Bride was down
+yet. The domestic went to inquire. Waiting in the hall, Dyce heard a
+footstep behind him; he turned and saw May, who, with features
+discomposed, just met his eyes and hurried away up the staircase. When
+the servant returned, it was with a request that Mr. Lashmar would step
+into the library. There, in a few minutes, Constance joined him.
+
+"You are early!" she exclaimed. "No bad news, I hope?"
+
+"No. But I want a little quiet talk with you. Of course it's absurd to
+come at this hour. You know I lunch here to-day, and I couldn't have
+gone through with it without seeing you in private. I'm in a queer
+state of mind; very much upset; in fact, I never felt such need of a
+true friend to consult."
+
+Constance kept her eyes fixed upon him. She had been up for a couple of
+hours, reading in the French book which had reached her yesterday. The
+same volume had occupied her till long after midnight. Her face showed
+the effects of over-study.
+
+"Tell me all about it," she said, with voice subdued to the note of
+intimacy, and look in which there shone an indulgent kindliness.
+
+"You have often said that you wished me well, that you desired to help
+me in my career."
+
+"Have I not done more than say it?" returned the other, softly.
+
+"Indeed you have! Few women would have been capable of such
+self-sacrifice on a friend's behalf. You know the law of human nature;
+we always make old kindness a reason for demanding new. Again I am come
+to ask your help, and again it involves heroism on your part."
+
+The listener's face grew troubled; her lips lost their suavity.
+Lashmar's eyes fell before her look.
+
+"I feel ashamed," he went on, with an uneasy movement of his hands.
+"It's too bad to expect so much of you. You have more pride than most
+people, yet I behave to you as if you didn't know the meaning of the
+word. Do, I beg, believe me when I say that I am downright ashamed, and
+that I hardly know how to tell you what has happened."
+
+Constance did not open her lips; they were sternly compressed.
+
+"I want you," Dyce continued, "first of all to consent to the
+termination of our formal engagement. Of course," he hastened to add,
+"that step in itself is nothing to you. Indeed, you will be rather glad
+of it than otherwise; it relieves you from an annoying and embarrassing
+situation, which only your great good-nature induced you to accept. But
+I ask more than that. I want it to be understood that our engagement
+had ended when I last left Rivenoak. Can you consent to this? Will you
+bear me out when I break the news to Lady Ogram?"
+
+"You propose to do that yourself?" asked Constance, with frigid sarcasm.
+
+"Yes, I shall do it myself. I am alone responsible for what has
+happened, and I must face the consequences."
+
+"Up to a certain point, you mean," remarked the same pungent voice.
+
+"It's true, I ask your help in that one particular."
+
+"You say that something has happened. Is it within my privilege to ask
+what, or must I be content to know nothing more?"
+
+"Constance, don't speak like that?" pleaded Dyce. "Be generous to the
+end! Haven't I behaved very frankly all along? Haven't we talked with
+perfect openness of all I did? Don't spoil it all, now at the critical
+moment of my career. Be yourself, generous and large-minded!"
+
+"Give me the opportunity," she answered, with an acid smile. "Tell what
+you have to tell."
+
+"But this is not like yourself," he remonstrated. "It's a new spirit. I
+have never known you like this."
+
+Constance moved her foot, and spoke sharply.
+
+"Say what you have to say, and never mind anything else."
+
+Lashmar bent his brows.
+
+"After all, Constance, I am a perfectly free man. If you are annoyed
+because I wish to put an end to what you yourself recognise as a mere
+pretence, it's very unreasonable, and quite unworthy of you."
+
+"You are right," answered the other, with sudden change to ostentatious
+indifference. "It's time the farce stopped. I, for one, have had enough
+of it. If you like, I will tell Lady Ogram myself, this morning."
+
+"No!" exclaimed Dyce, with decision. "That I certainly do _not_ wish.
+Are you resolved, all at once, to do me as much harm as you can?"
+
+"Not at all, I thought I should relieve you of a disagreeable business."
+
+"If you really mean that, I am very grateful. I wanted to tell you
+everything, and talk it over, and see what you thought best to be done.
+But of course I shouldn't dream of forcing my confidence upon you. It's
+a delicate matter and only because we were such intimate friends."--
+
+"If you will have done with all this preamble," Constance interrupted,
+with forced calm, "and tell me what there is to be told, I am quite
+willing to listen."
+
+"Well, I will do so. It's this. I am in love with May Tomalin, and I
+want to marry her."
+
+Their eyes met, Dyce was smiling, an uneasy, abashed smile. Constance
+wore an expression of cold curiosity, and spoke in a corresponding
+voice.
+
+"Have you asked her to do so?"
+
+"Not yet," Lashmar replied.
+
+For a moment, Constance gazed at him; then she said, quietly:
+
+"I don't believe you."
+
+"That's rather emphatic," cried Dyce, affecting a laugh. "It conveys my
+meaning. I don't believe you, for several reasons. One of them is--"
+She broke off, and rose from her chair. "Please wait; I will be back in
+a moment."
+
+Lashmar sat looking about the room. He began to be aware that he had
+not breakfasted,--a physical uneasiness added to the various forms of
+disquiet from which his mind was suffering. When Constance re-entered,
+he saw she had a book in her hand, a book which by its outward
+appearance he at once recognised.
+
+"Do you know this?" she asked, holding the volume to him. "I received
+it yesterday, and have already gone through most of it. I find it very
+interesting."
+
+"Ah, I know it quite well," Dyce answered, fingering the pages. "A most
+suggestive book. But--what has it to do with our present conversation?"
+
+Constance viewed him wonderingly. If he felt at all disconcerted,
+nothing of the kind appeared in his face, which wore, indeed, a look of
+genuine puzzlement.
+
+"Have you so poor an opinion of my intelligence?" she asked, with
+subdued anger. "Do you suppose me incapable of perceiving that all the
+political and social views you have been living upon were taken
+directly from this book? I admire your audacity. Few educated men,
+nowadays, would have ventured on so bold a--we call it plagiarism."
+
+Dyce stared at her.
+
+"You are very severe," he exclaimed, on the note of deprecation. "Views
+I have been 'living upon?' It's quite possible that now and then
+something I had read there chanced to come into my talk; but who gives
+chapter and verse for every conversational allusion? You astound me. I
+see that, so far from wishing me well, you have somehow come to regard
+me with positive ill-feeling. How has it come about, Constance?"
+
+"You dare to talk to me in this way!" cried Constance, passionately.
+"You dare to treat me as an imbecile! This is going too far! If you had
+shown ever so little shame I would have thrown the book aside, and
+never again have spoken of it. But to insult me by supposing that force
+of impudence can overcome the testimony of my own reason! Very well.
+The question shall be decided by others. All who have heard you
+expatiate on your--_your_ 'bio-sociological' theory shall be made
+acquainted with this French writer, and form their own opinion as to
+your originality."
+
+Lashmar drew himself up.
+
+"By all means." His voice was perfectly controlled. "I have my doubts
+whether you will persuade anyone to read it--people don't take very
+eagerly to philosophical works in a foreign language--and I think it
+very unlikely that anyone but yourself has troubled to keep in mind the
+theories and arguments which you are so kind as to say I stole. What's
+more, will it be very dignified behaviour to go about proclaiming that
+you have quarrelled with me, and that you are bent on giving me a bad
+character? Isn't it likely to cause a smile?"
+
+As she listened, Constance shook with passion.
+
+"Are you so utterly base," she cried, "as to stand there and deny the
+truth of what I say?"
+
+"I never argue with anyone in a rage. Why such a thing as this--a
+purely intellectual matter--a question for quiet reasoning--should
+infuriate you, I am at a loss to understand. We had better talk no more
+for the present. I must hope for another opportunity."
+
+He moved as though to withdraw, but by no means with the intention of
+doing so, for he durst not have left Constance in this mood of violent
+hostility. Her outbreak had astonished him; he knew not of what she
+might be capable. There flashed through his mind the easy assurance he
+had given to May--that Constance Bride should be persuaded to friendly
+offices on their behalf, and he had much ado to disguise his
+consternation. For a moment he thought of flattering her pride by
+unconditional surrender, by submissive appeal, but to that he could not
+bring himself. Her discovery, her contempt and menaces, had deeply
+offended him; the indeterminate and shifting sentiments with which he
+had regarded her crystallised into dislike--that hard dislike which
+commonly results, whether in man or woman, from trifling with sacred
+relations. That Constance had been--perhaps still was tenderly disposed
+to him, served merely to heighten his repugnance. To stand in fear of
+this woman was a more humiliating and exasperating sensation than he
+had ever known.
+
+"Do as you think fit," he added in a stern voice, pausing at a little
+distance. "It is indifferent to me. In any case, Lady Ogram will soon
+know how things stand, and the result must be what it will. I have
+chosen my course."
+
+Constance was regarding him steadily. Her wrath had Leased to flare,
+but it glowed through her countenance.
+
+"You mean," she said, "that just at the critical moment of your career
+you are bent on doing the rashest thing you possibly could? And you ask
+me to believe that you are acting in this way before you even know
+whether you have a chance of gaining anything by it?"
+
+"It had occurred to me," Lashmar replied, "that, when you understood
+the state of things, you might be willing to exert yourself to help me.
+But that was before I learnt that you regarded me with contempt, if not
+with hatred. How the change has come about in you, I am unable to
+understand. I have behaved to you with perfect frankness--"
+
+"When, for instance, you wished me to admire you as a sociologist?"
+
+"It's incredible," cried Dyce, "that you should harp on that paltry
+matter! Who, in our time, is an original thinker? Ideas are in the air.
+Every man uses his mind--if he has any--on any suggestion which
+recommends itself to him. If it were worth while, I could point out
+most important differences between the bio-sociological theory as
+matured by me and its crude presentment in that book you have got hold
+of.--By the bye, how did it come into your hands?"
+
+After an instant's reflection, Constance told him of Mrs. Toplady's
+letter and the American magazine.
+
+"And," he asked, "does Mrs. Toplady regard me as a contemptible
+plagiarist?"
+
+"It is probable that she has formed conclusions."
+
+Lashmar's eyes fell. He saw that Constance was watching him. In the
+turmoil of his feelings all he could do was to jerk out an impatient
+laugh.
+
+"It's no use," he exclaimed. "You and I have come to a deadlock. We no
+longer understand each other. I thought you were the kind of woman whom
+a man can treat as his equal, without fear of ridiculous misconceptions
+and hysterical scenes. One more disillusion!"
+
+"Don't you think?" asked Constance, with a bitter smile, "that you are
+preparing a good many others for yourself?"
+
+"Of course I know what you mean. There are certain things it wouldn't
+be easy to discuss with you at any time; you can't expect me to speak
+of them at present. Suppose it an illusion. I came to you, in all
+honesty, to tell you what had happened. I thought of you as my friend,
+as one who cared about my happiness."
+
+"Why this morning?"
+
+"For the reason I began by explaining. I have to come here to lunch."
+
+"Would it surprise you, when you do come, to be met with the news that
+Lord Dymchurch has proposed to Miss Tomalin and been accepted?"
+
+"Indeed," Dyce answered, smiling, "it would surprise me very much."
+
+"Which is as much as to say that I was right, just now, in refusing to
+believe you. Do you know," Constance added, with fresh acerbity, "that
+you cut a very poor figure? As a diplomatist, you will not go very far.
+As an ordinary politician, I doubt whether you can make your way with
+such inadequate substitutes for common honesty. Perhaps you _do_
+represent the coming man. In that case, we must look anxiously for the
+coming woman, to keep the world from collapse.--Be so good, now, as to
+answer a plain question. You will do so, simply because you know that I
+have but to speak half-a-dozen words to Lady Ogram, and you would be
+spared the trouble of coming here to lunch. What is your scheme? If I
+had been so pliant as you expected, what would you have asked of me?"
+
+"Merely to use your influence with Lady Ogram when she is vexed by
+learning that May Tomalin is not to marry Dymchurch. What could be
+simpler and more straightforward? Scheme there is none. I have done
+with that kind of thing. I wish to marry this girl, for her own sake,
+but if I can keep Lady Ogram's good-will at the same time, I suppose
+there's nothing very base in wishing to do so?"
+
+"You speak of 'vexation.' Do you really imagine that that word will
+describe Lady Ogram's state of mind if she learns that Lord Dymchurch
+is rejected?"
+
+"Of course there will be a scene. We can't help that. We must face it,
+and hope in Lady Ogram's commonsense."
+
+"Answer another question. How do you _know_ that May Tomalin will
+refuse Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+"I had better refuse to answer. You talk much of honour. If you know
+what it means, you will accept my refusal as the only thing possible
+under the circumstances."
+
+Constance stood in hesitation. It seemed as if she might concede this
+point, but at the critical moment jealous wrath again seized her,
+extinguishing the better motive.
+
+"You will answer my question. You will tell me what has passed."
+
+She glared at him, and it was Lashmar's turn to betray indecision.
+
+"You are at my mercy," Constance exclaimed, "and you will do as I bid
+you."
+
+Lashmar yielded to exasperation.
+
+"I have enough of this," he cried angrily. "Go and do as you please!
+Take your silly feminine revenge, and much good may it do you! I have
+no more time to waste."
+
+He caught up his hat, and left the room.
+
+Passing the foot of the staircase, he saw someone descending. It was
+May. Involuntarily he stopped; the girl's gesture of alarm, bidding him
+be off, was disregarded. He waved to her, and she joined him.
+
+"I've seen them both. It's all right. Keep up your courage!"
+
+"Go! Go!" whispered May in fright. "Someone will see us."
+
+"At lunch!"
+
+He pressed her hand, smiled like a general in the thick of battle, and
+hurried away. Scarcely had he vanished through the portal, when
+Constance, issuing from the library, encountered Miss Tomalin. May
+uttered an unnaturally suave "good-morning!" The other looked her in
+the eye, and said in a voice of satisfaction:
+
+"Mr. Lashmar has just been here. Didn't you see him?"
+
+"Mr. Lashmar?--No."
+
+Gazing full at the confused face, Constance smiled, and passed on.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+At the door of the breakfast-room, Miss Bride was approached by Lady
+Ogram's maid, who in an undertone informed her that Dr. Baldwin had
+been sent for. Lady Ogram had passed a very bad night, but did not wish
+it to be made known to her guests, whom she hoped to meet at luncheon.
+Of the possibility of this, the maid declared herself very doubtful;
+she did not think the doctor would allow her mistress to get up.
+
+"Let me know when the doctor is leaving," said Constance. "I should
+like to see him."
+
+Sir William and his wife breakfasted with the two young ladies. Lord
+Dymchurch did not appear. When the others had left the room, Constance
+asked a servant if his lordship was down yet, and learnt that he had
+this morning gone away, leaving a note for Lady Ogram. At the same
+moment, word was brought to Miss Bride that Dr. Baldwin waited in the
+library. Constance replied that she would see him. Then, turning to the
+other attendant, she asked whether Lord Dymchurch's note had been
+delivered to Lady Ogram. It lay, she learnt, with the rest of the
+morning's letters, which the maid had not yet taken up. Thereupon
+Constance sought and found it, and carried it with her as she entered
+the library.
+
+"How do you find your patient, doctor?" she inquired, in her usual tone.
+
+"Quite unfit to get up to-day, though I fear she is determined to do
+so," replied Dr. Baldwin. "Wonderful, the influence of her mind upon
+her physical state. I found her alarmingly weak, but, as usual, she
+insisted on hearing the news of the town, and something I was able to
+tell her acted with more restorative force than any drug in the
+pharmacopaeia."
+
+"What was that?"
+
+"Mr. Robb's will. I hear on good authority that he leaves not a penny
+to our hospital. Lady Ogram was delighted. It makes the field clear for
+her. She declares that she will buy the site on Burgess Hill
+immediately. The will is dated fifteen years ago, they say; no doubt he
+meant to make another."
+
+"That, I am sure, was a cordial," exclaimed Constance. "Impossible for
+Mr. Robb to have done Lady Ogram a greater kindness."
+
+After a few more inquiries concerning the patient, she let the doctor
+take his leave. Then she stood looking at the outside of Lord
+Dymchurch's letter, and wondering what might be its contents. Beyond a
+doubt, they were of an explosive nature. Whatever his excuse, Lord
+Dymchurch's abrupt departure would enrage Lady Ogram. Had he been
+refused by May? Or had something come to pass which made it impossible
+for him to offer marriage something connected with Lashmar's early
+visit this morning? That he had intended a proposal, Constance could
+not doubt. Meanwhile, she felt glad of the outbreak in prospect; her
+mood desired tumultuous circumstances. What part she herself would play
+in to-day's drama, she had not vet decided; that must largely depend
+upon events. Her future was involved in the conflict of passions and
+designs which would soon be at its height. How much it would have
+helped her could she have read through the envelope now in her hand!
+
+There came a knock to the door. Lady Ogram wished to speak with Miss
+Bride.
+
+It was the rarest thing for the secretary to be summoned to her
+ladyship's bedroom. In the ante-chamber, the maid encountered her.
+
+"My lady means to get up," whispered this discreet attendant. "She
+thinks herself very much better, but I am sure she is very ill indeed.
+I know the signs. The doctor forbade her to move, but I durstn't oppose
+her."
+
+"Does she know that Lord Dymchurch has gone?" asked Constance.
+
+"No, miss. I thought it better to say nothing just yet. Everything
+excites her so."
+
+"You were very wise. Keep silence about it until Lady Ogram leaves her
+room."
+
+"My lady has just asked for her letters, miss."
+
+"Bring up those that have come by post. I will deliver the other
+myself."
+
+Constance entered the bedroom. With cheeks already touched into ghastly
+semblance of warm life, with her surprising hair provisionally rolled
+into a diadem, the old autocrat lay against upright pillows. At sight
+of Constance, she raised her skeleton hand, and uttered a croak of
+triumph.
+
+"Do you know the news?" followed in scarce articulate utterance.
+"Robb's will! Nothing to the hospital--not a penny for town charities."
+
+Constance affected equal rejoicing, for she knew how the singular old
+philanthropist had loathed the thought that Hollingford's new hospital
+might bear Robb's name instead of her own.
+
+"But I beg you not to excite yourself," she added. "Try to think
+quietly--"
+
+"Mind your own business!" broke in the thick voice, whilst the dark
+eyes flashed with exultation. "I want to know about Lord Dymchurch.
+What are the plans for this morning?"
+
+"I don't think they are settled yet. It's still early."
+
+"How is May?"
+
+"Quite well, I think."
+
+"I shall be down at mid-day, if not before. Tell Lord Dymchurch that."
+
+The morning's correspondence was brought in. Lady Ogram glanced over
+her letters, and bade Constance reply to two or three of them. She
+gave, also, many instructions as to matters which had been occupying
+her lately; her mind was abnormally active and lucid; at times her
+speech became so rapid that it was unintelligible.
+
+"Now go and get to work," she said at length, coming to an abrupt
+close. "You've enough to occupy you all the morning."
+
+Constance had paid little attention to these commands, and, on
+returning to the library, she made no haste to begin upon her
+secretarial duties. For more than an hour she sat brooding. Only as a
+relief to her thoughts did she at length begin to write letters. It was
+shortly before mid-day when again there came a summons from Lady Ogram;
+obeying it, Constance took Lord Dymchurch's letter in her hand.
+
+Lady Ogram had risen. She was in the little drawing-room upstairs,
+reclining upon a sofa; the effort of walking thus far had exhausted her.
+
+"I hear that Mr. Lashmar has called this morning," she began, half
+raising herself, but at once sinking back again. "What did he come
+about? Can't he come to lunch?"
+
+"Yes, he will be here at one o'clock," Constance replied.
+
+"Then why did he come? It was before nine. What had he to say?"
+
+"He wanted to speak to me in private."
+
+"Oh, I suppose that's privileged," returned the autocrat, smiling.
+"What have you got there? Something just come?"
+
+"It's a note for you from Lord Dymchurch."
+
+"From Lord Dymchurch? Give it me at once, then. Where is he? Why
+couldn't he wait till I came down?"
+
+She tore the envelope with weak trembling hands. Constance watched her
+as she read. Of a sudden, the shrunk, feeble figure sprang upright, and
+stood as though supported by the vigorous muscles of youth.
+
+"Do you know what this contains?" sounded a clear, hard voice,
+strangely unlike that which had just been speaking.
+
+"I have no idea."
+
+"But you knew that he had left?"
+
+"Yes, I knew. I kept it from you till now, because I feared you were
+not well enough to bear the agitation."
+
+"And who," cried the other fiercely, "gave you authority to detain
+letters addressed to me? What have you to do with my health? When did
+Lord Dymchurch leave?"
+
+"Whilst we were at breakfast," Constance answered, with a great effort
+at self-command. "He saw nobody."
+
+"Then you lied to me when you came up before?"
+
+"I think, Lady Ogram," said Constance, standing rigid and with white
+face, "you might give me credit for good intentions. It was nothing to
+me whether you heard this news then or later; but I knew that you had
+passed a sleepless night, and that the doctor had been sent for."
+
+"You knew--you knew!" cried the listener, with savage scorn. "Did you
+know why Lord Dymchurch had gone?"
+
+"I took it for granted that--it had something to do with Miss Tomalin."
+
+"Answer me in plain words, without a lie, and without shiftiness. Do
+you know that Lord Dymchurch has proposed to May, and been refused?"
+
+"I did not know it."
+
+"You suspected as much."
+
+"I thought it possible. But the business was none of mine, and I gave
+very little heed to it."
+
+Lady Ogram had begun to totter. She let herself sink upon the sofa, and
+re-read the letter that shook in her hand.
+
+"He says he has a sister ill. Did you hear anything of that?"
+
+"Nothing at all."
+
+The autocrat stared for a moment, as though trying to read Constance's
+thoughts; then she waved her hand.
+
+"Go back to your work. Stay in the library till you hear from me again."
+
+Constance quivered with the impulse to make indignant reply, but
+prudence prevailed. She bent her head to conceal wrathful features, and
+in silence went from the room.
+
+Five minutes later, May Tomalin entered by the awful door. She knew
+what was before her, and had braced her nerves, but at the first sight
+of Lady Ogram a sinking heart drew all the blood from her checks.
+Encountering the bloodshot glare from those fleshless eye-caverns, she
+began to babble a "Good-morning, aunt!" But the words failed, and her
+frightened simper, meant for a smile, passed into mere blankness of
+visage.
+
+"Come here, May. Is it true that you have refused Lord Dymchurch?"
+
+The voice was less terrifying than her aunt's countenance had led her
+to expect. She was able to recover her wits sufficiently to make the
+reply she had spent all the morning in preparing.
+
+"Refused him? I didn't mean that. He must have misunderstood me."
+
+"What _did_ you mean, then?"
+
+"I hardly knew what Lord Dymchurch meant," answered May, trying to look
+playfully modest.
+
+"Let us have no nonsense," sounded in stern accents. "Lord Dymchurch
+writes me a letter, saying distinctly that he has proposed to you, and
+that you have refused him, and then he goes off without a word to
+anyone. Did you know he was leaving this morning?"
+
+"Certainly not," answered the girl, with a bold plunge into mendacity.
+"I expected to see him at breakfast. Then I was told he was gone. I
+don't understand it at all."
+
+From the moment of entering the room, she had put away all thought of
+truthfulness. This, plainly, was no time for it. As soon as possible,
+she would let Dyce Lashmar know that they must feign and temporise: the
+policy of courage looked all very well from a distance, but was quite
+another thing in the presence of the mistress of Rivenoak enraged.
+Lashmar must caution Constance, who seemingly (much to May's surprise)
+had submitted to his dictation at this juncture. For a time, nothing
+could be done beyond cloaking what had really happened, and soothing
+Lady Ogram's wrath with apparent submission.
+
+"When did you see him last?" pursued the questioner.
+
+"This morning, before breakfast, for a few minutes in the garden."
+
+Better to be veracious so far, thought May. She might otherwise fall
+into self-contradiction.
+
+"Was it an appointment?"
+
+"No. By chance. I never thought of meeting him."
+
+"And what did he say to you? Tell me his words."
+
+"I couldn't possibly recall them," said May, who had seated herself,
+and was becoming all but calm. "Lord Dymchurch has a very vague way of
+talking. He rambles from one subject to another."
+
+"But didn't he say anything at all about marriage?" cried Lady Ogram,
+in exasperation.
+
+"He spoke of his position and his prospects. Perhaps he hoped I should
+understand--but it was all so vague."
+
+"Why, then, the man is a scoundrel! He never proposed to you at all,
+and he runs away leaving a lying letter behind him. Yet I should never
+have thought that of Lord Dymchurch."
+
+She fixed her eyes on May, and added fiercely:
+
+"Are you telling me the truth?"
+
+The girl bridled, staring straight before her with indignant
+evasiveness of look.
+
+"My dear aunt! How can you ask me such a question? Of course I may have
+misunderstood Lord Dymchurch, but, if it hadn't been for what you have
+once or twice said to me, I really shouldn't ever have supposed that he
+meant anything. He talks in such a rambling way--"
+
+She grew voluble. Lady Ogram listened awhile, then cut her short.
+
+"Very well. There has been some queer sort of mistake, that's plain. I
+should like to know what Lord Dymchurch means. Why couldn't he see me,
+like an honest man? It's very extraordinary, this running away before
+breakfast, saying good-bye to nobody."
+
+She mused stormily, her eye ever and again turning upon the girl.
+
+"Look here, May; do you think Constance knows anything about it?"
+
+"I really can't say--I don't see how--"
+
+"It was she that brought me his letter. Do you think he spoke to her?"
+
+"About me?" exclaimed May, uneasily. "Oh! I don't think so--I never
+noticed that they were friendly."
+
+"Ring the bell."
+
+Constance Bride was sent for. Some moments passed; Lady Ogram stamped
+impatiently. She ordered May to ring again, and demanded why Miss Bride
+kept her waiting. Considerably more than five minutes had elapsed
+before the figure of the secretary appeared: her face wore an
+expression of proud indifference, and at the sight of May's subdued,
+timid air, she smiled coldly.
+
+"Why have you been so long?" cried Lady Ogram.
+
+"I came as soon as I could," was the clear reply.
+
+"Now listen to me, Constance," broke vehemently from the bloodless
+lips. "I'll have no nonsense! You understand that? I'll not be played
+with. Deceive me, or treat me in any way unbecomingly, and you shall
+remember it the longest day you live. I want to know whether Lord
+Dymchurch said anything to you to explain his sudden departure?"
+
+"To me? Certainly not."
+
+"Now mind! I'll get at the truth of this. You know me! May says that
+Lord Dymchurch never proposed to her at all. What do you make of that?"
+
+Constance glanced at Miss Tomalin, whose eyes fell. Again she smiled.
+
+"It's very strange," she answered, with a certain air of sympathy.
+"That's really all I can say. It's impossible to have any opinion about
+such a personal matter, which doesn't in the least concern me."
+
+"Please remember, aunt," put in May, "that I only said I didn't
+_understand_ Lord Dymchurch in that sense."
+
+"Are you a fool, girl!" screeched the autocrat, violently. "I never
+thought you so, and if he had said anything that was meant for an offer
+of marriage, you would have understood it quickly enough. Either you're
+telling me the truth, or you're lying. Either he proposed to you, or he
+didn't."
+
+May caught the look of Constance turned upon her; it suggested
+amusement, and this touched her feelings far more deeply than the old
+lady's strong language.
+
+"I am obliged to remind you, aunt," she said, her cheek flushing, "that
+I have no experience of--of this kind of thing. If I made a mistake, I
+think it's excusable. I see that Miss Bride thinks it funny, but she
+has the advantage of me in age, and in--in several other ways."
+
+Even whilst speaking, May knew that she committed an imprudence; she
+remembered all that depended upon Constance's disposition towards her.
+And indeed, she could not have spoken more unwisely. In the inflamed
+state of Constance's pride, a feminine slap such as this sent such a
+tingling along her nerves that she quivered visibly. It flashed into
+her mind that Dyce Lashmar had all but certainly talked of her to
+May--with significant look and tone, whatever his words. How much had
+he told her? Lady Ogram's voice was again heard.
+
+"Well, that's true. You're only a child, and perhaps you said something
+which sounded as you didn't mean it."
+
+Constance was gazing at the speaker. Her lips moved, as if in a
+nervously ineffectual effort to say something.
+
+"Miss Bride can go back to her work again," said Lady Ogram, as if
+dismissing a servant.
+
+May smiled, openly and disdainfully. She could not resist the pleasure
+of showing her superiority. The smile had not died away, when Constance
+spoke.
+
+"I will ask your permission to stay for a few minutes longer, Lady
+Ogram. As Miss Tomalin has so satisfactorily explained her part in this
+unfortunate affair, I think I had better use this opportunity for
+making known to you something which concerns her, and which, I am sure,
+will interest you very much. It won't take me long--if you feel able to
+listen."
+
+"What is it?" asked the autocrat, sharply.
+
+"You are aware that Mr. Lashmar called very early this morning. He
+came, as I said, on private business. He had something of importance to
+tell me, and he asked my help in a great difficulty."
+
+"Something about the election?"
+
+"It had nothing whatever to do with that. I'll put it in the fewest
+possible words, not to waste your time and my own. Mr. Lashmar began by
+saying that if I didn't mind, he would be glad to be released from his
+engagement to me."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Pray don't let there be any misunderstanding--this time," said
+Constance, whose grave irony was perhaps somewhat too fine for the
+intelligence of either of her hearers. "Mr. Lash mar behaved like a man
+of honour, and I quite approve of the way in which he expressed
+himself. His words would have been perfectly intelligible--even to Miss
+Tomalin. Admitting his right to withdraw from the engagement if he had
+conscientious objections to it, I ventured to ask Mr. Lashmar whether
+there was any particular reason for his wish to be released. He paid me
+the compliment of perfect frankness. His reason was, that he wished to
+marry someone else."
+
+"And who is that?" came hoarsely from Lady Ogram.
+
+"Miss Tomalin."
+
+May had lost her natural colour. She could not take her eyes from the
+speaker; her lips were parted, her forehead was wrinkled into a strange
+expression of frightened animosity. Until the utterance of her name,
+she had hoped against hope that Constance did not intend the worst. For
+the first time in her life, she felt herself struck without pity, and
+the mere fact of such stern enmity affected her with no less surprise
+than dread. She would have continued staring at Constance, had not an
+alarming sound, a sort of moaning snarl, such as might proceed from
+some suddenly wounded beast, caused her to turn towards her aunt. The
+inarticulate sound was followed by words painfully forced out.
+
+"Go on--what else?--go on, I tell you!"
+
+The speaker's breath came with difficulty. She was bent forward, her
+eyes starting, her scraggy throat working as if in anguish. Constance
+had stepped nearer to her.
+
+"Are you ill, Lady Ogram? Shall I call for help?"
+
+"Go on! Go _on_, I tell you!" was the hoarse reply. "I hadn't thought
+of that. I see, now. What next did he say?"
+
+"Mr. Lashmar," pursued Constance, in a voice somewhat less under
+control, "did me the honour to say that he felt sure I had only his
+interests and his happiness at heart. He knew that there might be
+considerable difficulties in his way, even after it had been made known
+that he was free to turn his attention to Miss Tomalin, and he was so
+good as to request my assistance. It had occurred to him that I might
+be able to present his case in a favourable light to you, Lady Ogram.
+Naturally, I was anxious to do my best. Perhaps this is hardly the
+moment to pursue the subject. Enough for the present to have made known
+Mr. Lashmar's state of mind."
+
+Lady Ogram seemed to have overcome her physical anguish. She sat
+upright once more, and, looking at May, asked in a voice only just
+above a whisper:
+
+"What have you to say to this?"
+
+"What can I say," exclaimed the girl, with high-voiced vehemence. "I
+know nothing about it. Of course it's easy enough to believe that Mr.
+Lashmar wants to get out of his engagement to Miss Bride." She laughed
+scornfully. "He--"
+
+She stopped, checking in her throat words which she suddenly remembered
+would be fatal to the attitude she had assumed.
+
+"Go on!" cried Lady Ogram. "He--what?"
+
+"I was only going to say that Mr. Lashmar might easily have thought
+that he had made a mistake. Well, that's my opinion; if it isn't
+pleasant to Miss Bride, I can't help it. I tell the truth, that's all."
+
+"And that I will have!" said her aunt, with new self-command. "The very
+last word of it, mind you! Constance, why are you standing all this
+time? Sit down here, on this chair. Now I want you to repeat what you
+have told me. First of all, at what o'clock did this happen?"
+
+"At about half-past eight this morning."
+
+Had it been possible, Constance would have rolled oblivion over all she
+had spoken. Already she found her vengeance a poor, savourless thing;
+she felt that it belittled her. The fire of her wrath burnt low, and
+seemed like to smoulder out under self-contempt. She spoke in a dull,
+mechanical voice, and gazed at vacancy.
+
+"May," Lady Ogram resumed, "when did you get up this morning?
+
+"At about--oh, about half-past seven, I think."
+
+"Did you go out before breakfast?"
+
+"I have told you that I did, aunt. I saw Lord Dymchurch in the garden."
+
+"I remember," said her aunt, with a lowering, suspicious look. "And you
+saw Mr. Lashmar as he was coming to the house?"
+
+"No. I didn't see him at all."
+
+"How was that? If you were in the garden?"
+
+May glibly explained that her encounter with Lord Dymchurch took place
+not before, but behind, the house. She had a spot of red on each cheek;
+her ears were scarlet; she sat with clenched hands, and stared at the
+lower part of her aunt's face.
+
+"Constance," pursued the questioner, whose eyes had become small and
+keen as her utterance grew more sober, "tell it me all over again. It's
+worth hearing twice. He began--?"
+
+The other obeyed, reciting her story in a curt, lifeless way, so that
+it sounded less significant than before.
+
+"And you promised to help him?" asked Lady Ogram, who repeatedly
+glanced at May.
+
+"No, I didn't. I lost my temper, and said I don't know what foolish
+things."
+
+This was self-punishment, but it, too, sounded idle in her ears as soon
+as she had spoken.
+
+"But you consented to release him?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Now, look at me. Have you told me all he said?"
+
+"All."
+
+"Look at me! If I find that you are keeping any secret--! I shall know
+everything, you understand that. I won't sleep till I know everything
+that has been going on. Deceive me, if you dare!"
+
+"I am not deceiving you," answered Constance, wearily. "You have heard
+all I know."
+
+"Now, then, for what you suspect," said Lady Ogram, leaning towards
+her. "Turn your mind inside out. Tell me what you _think_!"
+
+"That is soon done. I suspect--indeed, I believe that Mr. Lashmar's
+behaviour is that of a man with an over-excited mind. He thinks
+everything is within his reach, and everything permitted to him. I
+believe he spoke to me quite honestly, thinking I might somehow plead
+his cause with you."
+
+"That isn't what I want. Do you suspect that he had any hopes to go
+upon?"
+
+"I care so little about it," answered Constance, "that I can't form any
+conjecture. All I can say is, that such a man would be quite capable of
+great illusions--of believing anything that flattered his vanity."
+
+Lady Ogram was dissatisfied. She kept a brief silence, with her eyes on
+May's countenance.
+
+"Ring the bell," were her next words.
+
+Constance rose and obeyed. A servant entered.
+
+"When Mr. Lashmar arrives," said Lady Ogram, "you will bring him at
+once to me here."
+
+"Mr. Lashmar has just arrived, my lady."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+"Ask him to come--. No! Stay!"
+
+Lady Ogram stood up, not without difficulty. She took a step or two
+forwards, as if trying whether she had the strength to walk. Then she
+looked at her two companions, who had both risen.
+
+"Constance, give me your arm. I will go downstairs."
+
+They left the room, May slowly following and watching them with anxiety
+she vainly endeavoured to disguise. The descent was slow. Constance
+held firmly the bony arm which clung to her own, and felt it quiver at
+every step. Just before they reached the bottom, Lady Ogram ordered the
+servant who came after them to pass before and conduct Mr. Lashmar into
+the library. At the foot of the stairs, she paused; on her forehead
+stood little points of sweat, and her lips betrayed the painful effort
+with which she continued to stand upright.
+
+"May"--she looked into the girl's face--"if I don't come when the
+luncheon bell rings, you will excuse me to Sir William and Lady Amys,
+and take my place at table."
+
+Slowly she walked on, still supported by Constance, to the library
+door. When it was opened, and she saw Lashmar awaiting her within (he
+had passed into the library by the inner door which communicated with
+the drawing-room), she spoke of her companion.
+
+"Thank you, Constance. If I don't come, sit down with the others. I
+hope your meal will not be disturbed, but I may have to send for you."
+
+"Lady Ogram--"
+
+Constance began in a low, nervous voice. She was looking at Lashmar,
+who, with an air of constraint, moved towards them.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Will you let me speak to you for a moment before--"
+
+"No!"
+
+With this stern monosyllable, Lady Ogram dismissed her, entered the
+room, and closed the door.
+
+Then her face changed. A smile, which was more than half a grin of
+pain, responded to Lashmar's effusive salutation; but she spoke not a
+word, and, when she had sunk into the nearest chair, her eyes, from
+beneath drooping lids, searched the man's countenance.
+
+"Sit down," were her first words.
+
+Lashmar, convinced that Constance Bride had sought to avenge herself,
+tried to screw up his courage. He looked very serious; he sat stiffly;
+he kept his eye upon Lady Ogram's.
+
+"Well, what have you to tell me?" she asked, with a deliberation more
+disconcerting than impatience would have been.
+
+"Everything goes on pretty well--"
+
+"Does it? I'm glad you think so."
+
+"What do you allude to, Lady Ogram?" Lashmar inquired with grave
+respectfulness.
+
+"What do _you_?"
+
+"I was speaking of things at Hollingford."
+
+"And I was thinking of things at Rivenoak."
+
+Lashmar's brain worked feverishly. What did she know? If Constance had
+betrayed him, assuredly May also must have been put to the question,
+and with what result? He was spared long conjecture.
+
+"Let us understand each other," said the autocrat, who seemed to be
+recovering strength as the need arose. "I hear that you want to break
+off with Constance Bride. She is no bride for you. Is that the case?"
+
+"I am sorry to say it is the truth, Lady Ogram."
+
+Having uttered these words, Dyce felt the heroic mood begin to stir in
+him. He had no alternative now, and would prove himself equal to the
+great occasion.
+
+"You want to marry someone else?"
+
+"I'm sure you will recognise," Lashmar replied, in his academic tone,
+"that I am doing my best to act honourably, and without giving any
+unnecessary pain. Under certain circumstances, a man is not entirely
+master of himself--"
+
+There sounded the luncheon bell. It rang a vague hope to Lashmar, whose
+voice dropped.
+
+"Are you hungry?" asked the hostess, with impatience.
+
+"Not particularly, thank you."
+
+"Then I think we had better get our little talk over and done with. We
+shan't keep the others waiting."
+
+Dyce accepted this as a good omen. "Our little talk!" He had not dreamt
+of such urbanity. Here was the result of courage and honesty. Evidently
+his bearing had made a good impression upon the old despot. He began to
+look cheerful.
+
+"Nothing could please me better."
+
+"Go on, then," said Lady Ogram, drily. "You were saying--"
+
+"I wish to use complete frankness with you," Dyce resumed. "As I think
+you know, I always prefer the simple, natural way of looking at things.
+So, for instance, in my relations with women I have always aimed at
+fair and candid behaviour; I have tried to treat women as they
+themselves, justly enough, wish to be treated, without affectation,
+without insincerity. Constance knew my views, and she approved them.
+When our friendship developed into an engagement of marriage, we both
+of us regarded the step in a purely reasonable light; we did not try to
+deceive ourselves, and, less still, to deceive each other. But a man
+cannot always gauge his nature. To use the common phrase, I did not
+think I should ever fall in love; yet that happened to me, suddenly,
+unmistakably. What course had I to follow? Obviously I must act on my
+own principles; I must be straightforward, simple, candid. As soon as
+my mind was made up, I came to Constance."
+
+He broke off, observed the listener's face, and added with an
+insinuating smile:
+
+"There was the _other_ course--what is called the unselfish, the
+heroic. Unfortunately, heroism of that kind is only another name for
+deliberate falsehood, in word and deed, and I confess I hadn't the
+courage for it. Unselfishness which means calculated deception seems to
+me by no means admirable. It was not an easy thing to go to Constance,
+and tell her what I had to tell; but I know that she herself would much
+prefer it to the sham-noble alternative. And I am equally sure, Lady
+Ogram, what your own view will be of the choice that lay before me."
+
+The listener made no sort of response to this appeal. "And what had
+Constance to say to you?" she asked. Lashmar hesitated, his
+embarrassment half genuine, half feigned.
+
+"Here," he replied, in a thoughtfully suspended voice, "I find myself
+on very delicate ground. I hardly feel that I should be justified in
+repeating what passed between us. I hoped you had already heard it. Was
+it not from Constance that you learnt--?"
+
+"Don't begin to question _me_," broke in Lady Ogram, with sudden
+severity. "What I know, and how I know it, is none of your business.
+You'll have the goodness to tell me whatever I ask you."
+
+Dyce made a gesture of deprecating frankness.
+
+"Personally," he said in a low voice, "I admit your right to be kept
+fully informed of all that comes to pass in this connection. Will it be
+enough if I say that Constance accepted my view of what had happened?"
+
+"Did you tell her everything that _had_ happened?" asked Lady Ogram,
+looking him in the eyes.
+
+"Not in detail," Dyce replied, rather nervously, for he could not with
+certainty interpret that stern look. "You will understand that--that I
+was not at liberty--that I had to respect--"
+
+He came near to losing himself between the conflicting suggestions of
+prudence and hopefulness. At the sight of his confusion, Lady Ogram
+smiled grimly.
+
+"You mean," she said, in a voice which seemed to croak indulgence,
+"that you had no right to tell Constance anything about Miss Tomalin?"
+
+Lashmar's courage revived. He suspected that the old autocrat knew
+everything, that both girls had already gone through the ordeal of a
+private interview with her, and had yielded up their secrets. If so,
+plainly the worst was over, and nothing would now serve but sincerity.
+
+"That is what I mean," he answered, quietly and respectfully, admiring
+his own dignity as he spoke.
+
+"We are beginning to understand each other," said Lady Ogram, the grim
+smile still on her face. "I don't mind telling you, now, that I have
+spoken both with Constance and with May."
+
+Lashmar manifested his relief. He moved into an easier posture; his
+countenance brightened; he said within himself that destiny was hearing
+him on to glorious things.
+
+"I'm very glad indeed to hear that, Lady Ogram! It ruts my mind at
+rest."
+
+"I have talked with them both," continued the reassuring voice, which
+struggled with hoarseness. "That they told me the truth, I have no
+doubt; both of them know me too well to do anything else. Constance, I
+understand, had your authority for speaking to me, so her part was
+easy."
+
+"She has a fine, generous spirit!" exclaimed Dyce, with the glow of
+genuine enthusiasm.
+
+"Well for you that she has. As for May, you had put her into a more
+difficult position."
+
+"I fear so. But I am sure, Lady Ogram, that you dealt with her very
+kindly."
+
+"Exactly." The smile was very grim indeed, and the voice very hoarse.
+"But the things I couldn't ask May to tell me, I expect to hear from
+you. Begin with this morning. You met her, I understand, before you
+came to the house to see Constance."
+
+Dyce fell straight into the trap. He spoke almost gaily.
+
+"Yes; we met at eight o'clock."
+
+"Of course by appointment."
+
+"Yes, by appointment."
+
+"The best will be for you to begin at the beginning, and tell the story
+in your own way. I've heard all my niece cared to tell me; now I give
+you the chance of telling your own tale. All I ask is the truth. Tell
+me the truth, from point to point."
+
+At the pass he had reached, Lashmar asked nothing better. He was
+befooled and bedazzled. Every trouble seemed of a sudden to be lifted
+from his mind. Gratitude to Constance, who had proved so much better
+than her word, romantic devotion to May, who had so bravely declared
+her love, filled him with fervours such as he had never known. He saw
+himself in a resplendent light; his attitude was noble, his head bent
+with manly modesty, and, when he began to speak, there was something in
+his voice which he had never yet been able to command, a virile music,
+to which he listened with delighted appreciation.
+
+"I obey you, Lady Ogram; I obey you frankly and gladly. I must go back
+to the day of Miss Tomalin's return from London. You will remember I
+told you that on that day I was in town, and in the afternoon, early, I
+called at Mrs. Toplady's."
+
+Omitting the fact of his having told May about the relations between
+Miss Bride and himself, he narrated all else with perfect truth. So
+pleasant was the sense of veracity, that he dwelt on unimportant
+particulars, and lengthened out the story in a way which would have
+made it intolerably tedious to any other hearer. Lady Ogram, however,
+found it none too long. The smile had died from her face; her lips were
+compressed, and from time to time her eyes turned upon the speaker with
+a fierce glare; but Lashmar paid no heed to these trifles. He ended at
+length with beaming visage, his last sentences having a touch of
+emotion which greatly pleased him.
+
+"Ring the bell," said Lady Ogram, pointing to the electric button.
+
+Glad to stand up and move, Dyce did her bidding. Only a few moments
+elapsed before Constance Bride and May Tomalin entered the room.
+
+"Constance, come here," said Lady Ogram. "You"--she glared at
+May--"stand where I can have a good view of you."
+
+Lashmar had welcomed their entrance with a smile. The voice and manner
+of the autocrat slightly perturbed him, but he made allowances for her
+brusque way, and continued to smile at May, who looked pale and
+frightened.
+
+"Constance, did you know or did you not, that these two had a meeting
+this morning in the park before Mr. Lashmar came to see you?"
+
+"No, I knew nothing of that," answered Miss Bride, coldly.
+
+"And did you know that they had met before, at the same place and time,
+and that they came from town together by the same train, and that there
+was a regular understanding between them to deceive you and me?"
+
+"I knew nothing of all this."
+
+"Look at her!" exclaimed Lady Ogram, pointing at the terrified girl.
+"This is her gratitude; this is her honesty. She has lied to me in
+every word she spoke! Lord Dymchurch offered her marriage, and she
+tried to make me believe that he hadn't done so at all, that he was a
+dishonourable shuffler--"
+
+"Aunt!" cried May, stepping hurriedly forward. "He did _not_ offer me
+marriage! I'll tell you everything. Lord Dymchurch saw me by chance
+this morning--Mr. Lashmar and me--saw us together in the park; and he
+understood, and spoke to me about it, and said that the only thing he
+could do was to tell you I had refused him--"
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it?" broke in the hoarse voice, all but inarticulate
+with fury. "Then he too is a liar; that makes one more."
+
+Lashmar stood in bewilderment. He caught May's eye, and saw that he had
+nothing but hostility to expect from her.
+
+"_There_ is the greatest of all!" cried the girl, with violent gesture.
+"He has told you all about _me_, but has he told you all about himself?"
+
+"Lady Ogram," said Dyce, in a tone of offended dignity, "you should
+remember by what means you obtained my confidence. You told me that
+Miss Tomalin had already confessed everything to you. I naturally
+believed you incapable of falsehood--"
+
+"Being yourself such a man of honour!" Lady Ogram interrupted, with
+savage scorn. "Constance, you are the only one who has not told me
+lies, and you have been shamefully treated--"
+
+"You think she has told you no lies?" interrupted May, her voice at the
+high pitch of exasperation. "Wait a moment. This man has told you that
+he came down from London in the train with me; but did he tell you what
+he talked about? The first thing he disclosed to me was that the
+engagement between him and Miss Bride was a mere pretence. Finding you
+wished them to marry, they took counsel together, and plotted to keep
+you in good humour by pretending to be engaged. This he told me
+himself."
+
+Lady Ogram turned upon Lashmar, who met her eyes with defiance.
+
+"You believe that?" he asked, in a quietly contemptuous tone.
+
+She turned to Constance, whose face showed much the same expression.
+
+"Is that true?"
+
+"I shall answer no charge brought by Miss Tomalin," was the cold reply.
+
+"And you are right." Lady Ogram faced to May. "I give you half an hour
+to pack your luggage and leave the house! Be off!"
+
+The girl burst into a hysterical laugh, and ran from the room. For some
+moments, Lady Ogram sat looking towards the door; then, sinking
+together in exhaustion, she let her eyes move from one to the other of
+the two faces before her. Lashmar and Constance had exchanged no look;
+they stood in sullen attitudes, hands behind them, staring at vacancy.
+
+"I have something to say to you." The voice that broke the silence was
+so faint as to be but just audible. "Come nearer."
+
+The two approached.
+
+"That girl has gone. She is nothing to me, and nothing to you.
+Constance, are you willing to marry Mr. Lashmar?"
+
+There came no reply.
+
+"Do you hear?" whispered Lady Ogram, with a painful effort to speak
+louder. "Answer me."
+
+"How can you expect me to be willing to marry him?" exclaimed
+Constance, in whom a violent struggle was going on. Her cheeks were
+flushed, and tears of humiliation stood in her eyes.
+
+"You!" Lady Ogram addressed Lashmar. "Will you marry her?"
+
+"How is it possible, Lady Ogram," replied Dyce, in an agony of
+nervousness, "to answer such a question under these circumstances?"
+
+"But you _shall_ answer!" sounded in a choked sort of scream. "I give
+you the choice, both of you. Either you are married in three days from
+now, or you go about your business, like that lying girl. You can get a
+license, and be married at once. Which is it to be? I give you three
+days, not an hour more."
+
+Lashmar had turned very pale. He looked at his partner in the dilemma.
+
+"Constance," fell from his lips, "will you marry me?"
+
+There came an answer which he could just hear, but which was inaudible
+to Lady Ogram.
+
+"Speak, girl! Yes or no!" croaked their tormentor.
+
+"She has consented," said Dyce.
+
+"Then be off and get the license! Don't lose a minute. I suppose you'll
+have to go to London for it?--Constance, give me your arm. I must
+excuse myself to my guests."
+
+Constance bent to her, and Lady Ogram, clutching at the offered arm,
+endeavoured to rise It was in vain; she had not the strength to stand.
+
+"Mr. Lashmar!" She spoke in a thick mumble, staring with wild eyes.
+"Come--other side--"
+
+She was drooping, falling. Lashmar had only just time to catch and
+support her.
+
+"What is it?" he asked, staring at Constance as he supported the
+helpless form. "Has she fainted?"
+
+"Lay her down, and I'll get help."
+
+A moment, and Sir William Amys came hastening into the room; he was
+followed by his wife and two or three servants. Lady Ogram gave no sign
+of life, but the baronet found that her pulse was still beating.
+Silent, still, with half-closed eyes, the old autocrat of Rivenoak lay
+stretched upon a sofa awaiting the arrival of Dr. Baldwin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+Sir William drew Lashmar aside.
+
+"What brought this about?" he asked. "What has been going on?"
+
+Dyce, whose nerves were in a tremulous state, did not easily command
+himself to the quiet dignity which the occasion required. He saw that
+the baronet regarded him with something of suspicion, and the tone in
+which he was addressed seemed to him too much that of a superior. With
+an effort of the muscles, he straightened himself and looked his
+questioner in the face.
+
+"There has been a painful scene, Sir William, between Lady Ogram and
+her niece. Very much against my will, I was made a witness of it. I
+knew the danger of such agitation, and did my best to calm Lady Ogram.
+Miss Tomalin had left the room, and the worst seemed to be over. We
+were talking quietly, when the blow fell."
+
+"That is all you have to say?"
+
+"I am not sure that I understand you, Sir William," Lashmar replied
+coldly. Being slightly the taller, he had an advantage in being able to
+gaze at the baronet's forehead instead of meeting his look. "You would
+hardly wish me to speak of circumstances which are purely private."
+
+"Certainly not," said the other, and abruptly moved away.
+
+Lady Amys and Constance stood together near the couch on which Lady
+Ogram was lying. With a glance in that direction, Lashmar walked
+towards the door, hesitated a moment, went out into the hall. He had no
+wish to encounter May; just as little did he wish for a private
+interview with Constance; yet it appeared to him that he was obliged by
+decorum to remain in or near the house until the doctor's arrival.
+Presently he went out onto the terrace, and loitered in view of the
+front windows. That Lady Ogram was dying he felt not the least doubt.
+Beneath his natural perturbation there stirred a hope.
+
+Nearly an hour passed before Dr. Baldwin's carriage rolled up the
+drive. Shortly after came another medical man, who had been summoned at
+the same time. Whilst waiting impatiently for the result of their
+visits, Lashmar mused on the fact that May Tomalin certainly had not
+taken her departure; it was not likely now that she would quit the
+house; perhaps at this moment she was mistress of Rivenoak.
+
+Fatigue compelled him at length to enter, and in the hall he saw
+Constance. Involuntarily, she half turned from him, but he walked up to
+her, and spoke in a low voice, asking what the doctors said. Constance
+replied that she knew nothing.
+
+"Are they still in the library?"
+
+"No. Lady Ogram has been carried upstairs."
+
+"Then I'll go in and wait."
+
+He watched the clock for another half hour, then the door opened, and a
+servant brought him information that Lady Ogram remained in the same
+unconscious state.
+
+"I will call this evening to make inquiry," said Lashmar, and thereupon
+left the house.
+
+Reaching his hotel at Hollingford, he ordered a meal and ate heartily.
+Then he stepped over to the office of the _Express_, and made known to
+Breakspeare the fact of Lady Ogram's illness; they discussed the
+probabilities with much freedom, Breakspeare remarking how add it would
+be if Lady Ogram so soon followed her old enemy. At about nine o'clock
+in the evening, Dyce inquired at Rivenoak lodge: he learnt that there
+was still no change whatever in the patient's condition; Dr. Baldwin
+remained in the house. In spite of his anxious thoughts, Dyce slept
+particularly well. Immediately after breakfast, he drove again to
+Rivenoak, and had no sooner alighted from the cab than he saw that the
+blinds were down at the lodge windows. Lady Ogram, he learnt, had died
+between two and three o'clock.
+
+He dismissed his vehicle, and walked along the roads skirting the wall
+of the park. Now, indeed, was his life's critical moment. How long must
+elapse before he could know the contents of Lady Ogram's will? In a
+very short time he would have need of money; he had been disbursing
+freely, and could not face the responsibilities of the election,
+without assurance that his finances would soon be on a satisfactory
+footing. He thought nervously of Constance Bride, more nervously still
+of May Tomalin. Constance's position was doubtless secure; she would
+enter upon the "trust" of which so much had been said; but what was her
+state of mind with regard to _him_? Had not the consent to marry him
+simply been forced from her? May, who was now possessor of a great
+fortune, might perchance forget yesterday's turmoil, and be willing to
+renew their tender relations; he felt such a thing to be by no means
+impossible. Meanwhile, ignorance would keep him in a most perplexing
+and embarrassing position. The Amyses, who knew nothing of the rupture
+of his ostensible engagement, would be surprised if he did not call
+upon Miss Bride, yet it behooved him, for the present, to hold aloof
+from both the girls, not to compromise his future chances with either
+of them. The dark possibility that neither one nor the other would come
+to his relief, he resolutely kept out of mind; that would be sheer
+ruin, and a certain buoyancy of heart assured him that he had no such
+catastrophe to fear. Prudence only was required; perhaps in less than a
+week all his anxieties would be over, for once and all.
+
+He decided to call, this afternoon, upon Lady Amys. The interview would
+direct his future behaviour.
+
+It was the day of Robb's funeral, and he had meant to absent himself
+from Hollingford. He remained in his private sitting-room at the
+Saracen's Head, wrote many letters, and tried to read. At four o'clock
+he went out to Rivenoak, only to learn that Lady Amys could receive no
+one. He left a card. After all, perhaps this was the simplest and best
+way out of his difficulty.
+
+As he turned away from the door, another cab drove up, and from it
+alighted Mr. Kerchever. Dyce had no difficulty in recognising Lady
+Ogram's solicitor, but discretion kept his head averted, and Mr.
+Kerchever, though observing him, did not speak.
+
+By the post next morning, he received a formal announcement of Lady
+Ogram's death, with an invitation to attend her funeral. So far, so
+good. He was now decidedly light-hearted. Both Constance and May, he
+felt sure, would appreciate his delicacy in holding aloof, in seeking
+no sort of communication with them. Prudence! Reserve! The decisive day
+approached.
+
+Meanwhile, having need of sable garb, he had consulted Breakspeare as
+to the tailor it behooved him to patronise. Unfortunately the only good
+tailor at Hollingford was a Conservative, who prided himself on having
+clad the late M. P. for many years. Lashmar of necessity applied to an
+inferior artist, but in this man, who was summoned to wait upon him at
+the hotel, he found a zealous politician, whose enthusiasm more than
+compensated for sartorial defects.
+
+"I have already been canvassing for you, sir," declared the tailor. "I
+can answer for twenty or thirty votes in my neighbourhood--"
+
+"I am greatly obliged to you, Mr. Bingham," Dyce replied, in his
+suavest tone. "We have a hard fight before us, but if I find many
+adherents such as you--"
+
+The tailor went away and declared to all his acquaintances that if they
+wished their borough to be represented by a _gentleman_, they had only
+to vote for the Liberal candidate.
+
+As a matter of policy, Dyce had allowed it to be supposed that he was a
+man of substantial means. With the members of his committee he talked
+in a large way whenever pecuniary matters came up. Every day someone
+dined with him at the hotel, and the little dinners were as good as the
+Saracen's Head could furnish special wines had been procured for his
+table. Of course the landlord made such facts commonly known, and the
+whole establishment bowed low before this important guest. All day long
+the name of Mr. Lashmar sounded in bar and parlour, in coffee-room and
+commercial-room. Never had Dyce known such delicious thrills of
+self-respect as under the roof of this comfortable hostelry. If he were
+elected, he would retain rooms, in permanence, at the hotel.--Unless,
+of course, destiny made his home at Rivenoak.
+
+Curiosity as to what was going on at the great house kept him in a
+feverish state during these days before the funeral. Breakspeare, whom
+he saw frequently, supposed him to be in constant communication with
+Rivenoak, and at times hinted a desire for news, but Lashmar's cue was
+a dignified silence, which seemed to conceal things of high moment. Sir
+William and Lady Amys he knew to be still in the house of mourning; he
+presumed that May Tomalin had not gone away, and it taxed his
+imagination to picture the terms on which she lived with Constance. At
+the funeral, no doubt, he would see them both; probably would have to
+exchange words with them--an embarrassing necessity.
+
+Hollingford, of course, was full of gossip about the dead woman. The
+old, old scandal occupied tongues malicious or charitable. Rivenoak
+domestics had spread the news of the marble bust, to which some of them
+attached a superstitious significance; Breakspeare heard, and credited,
+a rumour that the bust dated from the time when its original led a
+brilliant, abandoned life in the artist world of London; but naturally
+he could not speak of this with Lashmar. Highly imaginative stories,
+too, went about concerning Miss Tomalin, whom everyone assumed to be
+the heiress of Lady Ogram's wealth. By some undercurrent, no doubt of
+servant's-hall origin, the name of Lord Dymchurch had come into
+circulation, and the editor of the _Express_ ventured to inquire of
+Lashmar whether it was true that Miss Tomalin had rejected an offer of
+marriage from this peer. Perfectly true, answered Dyce, in his discreet
+way; and he smiled as one who, if he would, could expatiate on the
+interesting topic.
+
+He saw Mrs. Gallantry, and from her learnt--without betraying his own
+ignorance--that callers at Rivenoak were received by Lady Amys, from
+whom only the barest information concerning Lady Ogram's illness was
+obtainable. Neither Miss Tomalin nor Miss Bride had been seen by anyone.
+
+The day of the funeral arrived; the hour appointed was half-past two.
+All the morning rain fell, and about mid-day began a violent thunder
+storm, which lasted for an hour. Then the sky began to clear, and as
+Lashmar started for Rivenoak be saw a fine rainbow across great sullen
+clouds, slowly breaking upon depths of azure. The gates of the park
+stood wide open, and many carriages were moving up the drive.
+Afterwards, it became known that no member of the Ogram family had been
+present on this occasion. Half-a-dozen friends of the deceased came
+down from London, but the majority of the funeral guests belonged to
+Hollingford and the immediate neighbourhood. In no sense was it a
+distinguished gathering; mere curiosity accounted for the presence of
+nearly all who came.
+
+Lashmar had paid his respects to Lady Amys, who received him frigidly,
+and was looking about for faces that he knew, when a familiar voice
+spoke at his shoulder; he turned, and saw Mrs. Toplady.
+
+"Have you come down this morning?" he asked, as they shook hands.
+
+"Yesterday. I want to see you, and we had better arrange the meeting
+now. Where are you staying in Hollingford? An hotel, isn't it?"
+
+She spoke in a low voice. Notwithstanding her decorous gravity, Lashmar
+saw a ghost of the familiar smile hovering about her lips. He gave his
+address, and asked at what hour Mrs. Toplady thought of coming.
+
+"Let us say half-past five. There's an up train just before eight,
+which I must catch."
+
+She nodded, and moved away. Again Lashmar looked about him, and he met
+the eye of Mr. Kerchever, who came forward with friendly aspect.
+
+"Dreadfully sudden, the end, Mr. Lashmar!"
+
+"Dreadfully so, indeed," Dyce responded, in mortuary tones.
+
+"You were present at the seizure, I understand?"
+
+"I was."
+
+"A good age," remarked the athletic lawyer, with obvious difficulty
+subduing his wonted breeziness. "The doctor tells me that it was
+marvellous she lived so long. Wonderful woman! Wonderful!"
+
+And he too moved away, Lashmar gazing after him, and wishing he knew
+all that was in the legal mind at this moment. But that secret must
+very soon become common property. Perhaps the contents of Lady Ogram's
+will would be known at Hollingford this evening.
+
+He searched vainly for Constance and for May. The former he did not see
+until she crossed the hall to enter one of the carriages; the latter
+appeared not at all. Had she, then, really left Rivenoak? Sitting in
+his hired brougham, in dignified solitude, he puzzled anxiously over
+this question. Happily, he would learn everything from Lady Toplady.
+
+In the little church of Shawe, his eyes wandered as much as his
+thoughts. Surveying the faces, most of them unknown to him, he noticed
+that scarcely a person present was paying any attention to the
+ceremony, or made any attempt to conceal his or her indifference. At
+one moment it vexed him that no look turned with interest in his
+direction; was he not far and away the most notable of all the people
+gathered here? A lady and a gentleman sat near him, frequently
+exchanged audible whispers, and he found that they were debating a
+trivial domestic matter, with some acerbity of mutual contradiction. He
+gazed now and then at the black-palled coffin, and found it impossible
+to realise that there lay the strange, imperious old woman who for
+several months had been the centre of his thoughts, and to whom he owed
+so vast a change in his circumstances. He felt no sorrow, yet thought
+of her with a certain respect, even with a slight sensation of
+gratitude, which was chiefly due, however, to the fact that she had
+been so good as to die. Live as long as he might, the countenance and
+the voice of Lady Ogram would never be less distinct in his memory than
+they were to-day. He, at all events, had understood and appreciated
+her. If he became master of Rivenoak, the marble bust should always
+have an honoured place under that roof.
+
+Dyce saw himself master of Rivenoak. He fell into a delightful dream,
+and, when the congregation suddenly stirred, he realised with alarm
+that he had a broad smile on his face.
+
+Rather before the hour she had named, Mrs. Toplady presented herself at
+the Saracen's Head. Lashmar was impatiently expectant; he did his best
+to appear gravely thoughtful, and behaved with the ceremonious courtesy
+which, in his quality of parliamentary candidate, he had of late been
+cultivating. His visitor, as soon as the door was closed, became quite
+at her ease.
+
+"Nice little place," she remarked, glancing about the room. "You make
+this your head-quarters, of course?"
+
+"Yes; I am very comfortable here," Dyce answered, in melodious
+undertone.
+
+"And all goes well? Your committee at work, and all that?"
+
+"Everything satisfactory, so far. The date is not fixed yet."
+
+"But it'll be all over, no doubt, in time for the partridges," said
+Mrs. Toplady, scrutinising him with an amused look. "Do you shoot?"
+
+"Why no, Mrs. Toplady. I care very little for sport."
+
+"Like all sensible men. I wanted to hear what you think about Lady
+Ogram's will."
+
+Lashmar was disconcerted. He had to confess that he knew nothing
+whatever about the will.
+
+"Indeed? Then I bring you news."
+
+They were interrupted by a waiter who appeared with tea. The visitor
+graciously accepted a cup.
+
+"Funerals exhaust one so, _don't_ they?" she remarked. "I don't know
+your opinion, but I think people should be married and buried far more
+quietly. For my own part, I grieve sincerely for the death of Lady
+Ogram. It's a great loss to me. I liked her, and I owed her gratitude
+for very much kindness. But I certainly shouldn't have gone to her
+funeral, if it hadn't been a social duty. I should have liked to sit
+quietly at home, thinking about her."
+
+"I thoroughly agree with you," replied Dyce, absently. "You came down
+yesterday?"
+
+"In the evening.--You know that Miss Tomalin is at my house?"
+
+"I had no idea of it."
+
+"Yes. She arrived the day before yesterday. She left Rivenoak as soon
+as she knew about Lady Ogram's will. I'm very glad indeed that she came
+to me; it was a great mark of confidence. Under the circumstances, she
+could hardly remain here."
+
+"The circumstances--?"
+
+"Lady Ogram's will does not mention her."
+
+Lashmar felt a spasm in his breast. The expression of his features was
+so very significant that Mrs. Toplady's smile threatened to become a
+laugh.
+
+"It's rather startling, isn't it?" she continued. "The will was made t
+year ago. Lady Ogram didn't mean it to stand. When she was in town, she
+talked over her affairs with her solicitor; a new will was to be made,
+by which Miss Tomalin would have come into possession of Rivenoak, and
+of a great deal of money. You can probably guess why she put off
+executing it. She hoped her niece's marriage-settlement would come
+first. But the old will remains, and is valid."
+
+"Will you tell me its provisions?" asked Lashmar, deliberately.
+
+"In confidence. It won't be made public till the executors--Sir William
+Amys and Mr. Kerchever--have proved it. I never knew a more
+public-spirited will. Hollingford gets a hospital, to be called the
+Lady Ogram; very generously endowed. Rivenoak is to be sold, and the
+proceeds to form a fund for a lot of Lady Ogram Scholarships. A
+working-girl's home is to be founded in Camden Town (it seems she was
+born there), and to be called Lady Ogram House. A lady named Mrs.
+Gallantry, here at Hollingford, becomes trustee for a considerable sum
+to be used in founding a training school for domestic servants--to be
+named the Lady Ogram. Then there's a long list of minor charitable
+bequests. All the servants are most liberally treated, and a few
+friends in humble circumstances receive annuities. There is not much
+fear of Lady Ogram being forgotten just yet, is there?"
+
+"No, indeed," said Lashmar, with studious control of his voice.
+"And"--he paused a moment--"is that all?"
+
+"Let me see--Oh, I was forgetting. Some money is left to Miss Bride;
+not to her absolutely, but in trust for certain purposes not specified."
+
+Mrs. Toplady's smile had never been more eloquent of mischievous
+pleasure. She was watching Lashmar as one watches a comedian on the
+stage, without the least disguise of her amusement.
+
+"I had heard something of that," said Dyce, the tension of whose
+feelings began to show itself in a flush under the eyes. "Can you tell
+me--"
+
+"Oh," broke in the other, "I've forgotten a detail that will interest
+you. In the entrance hall of the Lady Ogram Hospital is to be preserved
+that beautiful bust which you have seen at the Rivenoak. By the bye,
+there are odd stories about it. I hear that it was brought out of
+concealment only the day before her death."
+
+"Yes. I know nothing more about it. With regard to Miss Bride's
+trusteeship--"
+
+"Oh, and I forgot that Hollingford is to have a fine market-hall, on
+condition that the street leading to it is called Arabella Street--her
+name, you know."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" murmured Dyce, and became mute.
+
+Mrs. Toplady amused herself for a moment with observation of the play
+of his muscles. She finished her tea.
+
+"I'll have another cup, if you please.--Oh yes, we were speaking of
+Miss Bride. Naturally, that interests you. An odd bequest, isn't it?
+She is spoken of as a trustee, but evidently the disposal of the money
+is quite at her own discretion. If I remember, there are words to the
+effect that Lady Ogram wishes Miss Bride to use this money just as she
+herself would have done, for the purposes in which they were both
+particularly interested. By the bye, it isn't money only; Miss Bride
+becomes owner of the paper-mill at the village by Rivenoak."
+
+"I had heard of this," said Lashmar, with a brusque movement as though
+he felt cramp in his leg. He had begun to look cheerful. "I knew all
+about Lady Ogram's intentions. You don't remember," he added
+carelessly, "the amount of the bequest?"
+
+"Mr. Kerchever tells me it represents about seventy thousand pounds."
+
+Lashmar involuntarily heaved a sigh. Mrs. Toplady watched him over the
+rim of her teacup, the hand which held it shaking a little with subdued
+mirth.
+
+"As you say," he observed, "it's a most remarkable will. But it seems
+rather too bad that the poor lady's real wishes should be totally
+neglected."
+
+"Indeed it does. I have been wondering what Miss Bride will think about
+it. Of course I couldn't speak to her on the subject. One almost feels
+as if she ought at all events to give half that money to Miss Tomalin,
+considering the terms on which she receives it."
+
+"But," objected Dyce, "that wouldn't be fulfilling the conditions of
+the bequest, which, I happen to know, were very specific. Really, it's
+a most unfortunate thing that Lady Ogram died so suddenly, most
+unfortunate. What a serious injustice is done to that poor girl!"
+
+"After all, Mr. Lashmar," fell sweetly from the other's lips, "her
+position might be worse."
+
+"How? Has she an income of her own?"
+
+"Oh, a trifling annuity, not worth mentioning. But I didn't speak of
+that. I meant that, happily, her future is in the hands of an
+honourable man. It would have been sad indeed if she had owed this
+calamity to the intrigues of a mere fortune-hunter. As it is, a girl of
+her spirit and intelligence will very soon forget the disappointment.
+Indeed, it is much more on another's account than on her own that she
+grieves over what has happened."
+
+Lashmar was perusing the floor. Slowly he raised his eyes, until they
+met Mrs. Toplady's. The two looked steadily at each other.
+
+"Are you speaking of me?" Dyce inquired, in a low voice.
+
+"Of whom else could I be speaking, Mr. Lashmar?"
+
+"Then Miss Tomalin has taken you entirely into her confidence?"
+
+"Entirely, I am happy to say. I am sure you won't be displeased. It
+goes without saying that she does not know I am having this
+conversation with you."
+
+"I think, Mrs. Toplady," said Dyce, with deliberation, "that you had
+better tell me, if you will, exactly what you have heard from Miss
+Tomalin. We shall be more sure of understanding each other."
+
+"That's easily done. She told me of your railway journey together, of
+your subsequent meetings, of what happened with Lord Dymchurch, and,
+last of all, what happened with Lady Ogram."
+
+"Probably," said Dyce, "not all that happened with Lady Ogram. Did she
+mention that, instead of remaining loyal to me, as I was all through to
+her, she did her best to injure me with Lady Ogram by betraying a
+secret I had entrusted to her?"
+
+"I know what you refer to. Yes, she told me, of that unfortunate
+incident, and spoke of it with deep regret. The poor girl simply lost
+her head; for a moment she could think of nothing but
+self-preservation. Put yourself in her place. She saw utter ruin before
+her, and was driven almost crazy. I can assure you that she was not
+responsible for that piece of disloyalty. I am afraid not many girls
+would have been more heroic in such a terrible situation. You, a
+philosopher, must take account of human weakness."
+
+"I hope I can do that," said Lashmar, with a liberal air. "Under other
+circumstances, I should hardly have mentioned the thing. But it
+convinced me at the time that Miss Tomalin had deceived herself as to
+her feeling for me, and now that everything is necessarily at an end
+between us, I prefer to see it still in the same light, for it assures
+me that she has suffered no injury at _my_ hands."
+
+"But, pray, why should everything be necessarily at an end?"
+
+"For two or three reasons, Mrs. Toplady. One will suffice. After Miss
+Tomalin had left the room, Lady Ogram insisted on my making offer of
+immediate marriage to Miss Bride. Being plainly released from the other
+obligation, I did so--and Miss Bride gave her consent."
+
+Mrs. Toplady arched her eyebrows, and rippled a pleasant laugh.
+
+"Ah! That, of course, May could not know. I may presume that, _this_
+time, the engagement is serious?"
+
+"Undoubtedly," Lashmar replied, grave yet bland.
+
+"Then I can only ask you to pardon my interference."
+
+"Not at all. You have shown great kindness, and, under other
+circumstances, we should not have differed for a moment as to the
+course it behooved me to follow."
+
+Dyce had never heard himself speak so magnanimously; he smiled with
+pleasure, and continued in a peculiarly suave voice.
+
+"I am sure Miss Tomalin will find in you a steadfast friend."
+
+"I shall do what I can for her, of course," was the rather dry answer.
+"At the same time, I hold to my view of Miss Bride's responsibility.
+The girl has really nothing to live upon; a miserable hundred a year;
+all very well when she belonged to the family at Northampton, but
+useless now she is adrift. To tell you the truth, I shall wait with no
+little curiosity for Miss Bride's--and your--decision."
+
+"Need I say that Miss Bride will be absolutely free to take any step
+she likes?"
+
+"How could I doubt it?" exclaimed the lady, with her most expressive
+smile. "Do you allow me to make known the--the renewal of your
+engagement?"
+
+"Certainly," Dyce answered, beaming upon her.
+
+Mrs. Toplady rose.
+
+"I am so happy to have been the first to bring you the news. But it a
+little surprises me that you had not learnt it already from Miss Bride,
+who knew all about the will two days ago."
+
+"Why should it surprise you?" said Lashmar, gently, as he took her
+hand. "Naturally I have kept away from Rivenoak, supposing Miss Tomalin
+to be still there; and Miss Bride was not likely to be in haste to
+communicate a piece of news which, strictly speaking, hardly concerns
+me at all."
+
+"Be sure you come to see me when you are in town," were Mrs. Toplady's
+last words.
+
+And her eyes twinkled with appreciation of Lashmar's demeanour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+Dyce walked about the room. Without knowing it, he sang softly to
+himself. His countenance was radiant.
+
+So, after all, Constance would be his wife. One moment's glimpse of a
+dread possibility that neither she nor May Tomalin benefited by Lady
+Ogram's will had sufficed to make him more than contented with the
+actual issue of his late complications. He had seen himself overwhelmed
+with disaster, reduced to the alternative of withdrawing into
+ignominious obscurity or of again seeking aid from Mrs. Woolstan, aid
+which might or not be granted, and in any case would only enable him to
+go through with the contest at Hollingford, a useless effort if he had
+nothing henceforth to live upon. As it was, he saw Constance and
+seventy thousand pounds, with the prosperous little paper-mill to boot.
+He did not love Constance, but the feeling of dislike with which he had
+recently come to regard her had quite passed away. He did not love
+Constance, but what a capable woman she was!--and what a help she would
+be to him in his career! Her having detected his philosophic plagiarism
+seemed to him now rather a good thing than otherwise; it spared him the
+annoyance of intellectual dishonesty in his domestic life, and put them
+in a position to discuss freely the political and social views by which
+he was to stand. After all, Constance was the only woman he knew whose
+intelligence he really respected. After all, remembering their intimacy
+long ago at Alverholme, he felt a fitness in this fated sequel. It gave
+him the pleasant sense of honourable conduct.
+
+He smiled at the thought that he had fancied himself in love with May
+Tomalin. The girl was a half-educated simpleton, who would only have
+made him ridiculous. Her anonymous letter pointed to a grave fault of
+breeding; it would always have been suggestive of disagreeable
+possibilities. May was thoroughly plebeian in origin, and her
+resemblance to Lady Ogram might develop in a way it made him shudder to
+think of. Constance Bride came of gentlefolk, and needed only the
+favour of circumstances to show herself perfectly at ease in whatever
+social surroundings. She had a natural dignity, which, now he came to
+reflect upon it, he had always observed with pleasure. What could have
+been more difficult than her relations with Lady Ogram? Yet she had
+always borne herself with graceful independence.
+
+Poor girl! She had gone through a hard time these last four weeks, and
+no wonder if she broke down under the strain of a situation such as
+that which ended in Lady Ogram's death. He would make up to her for it
+all. She should understand him, and rest in perfect confidence. Yes, he
+would reveal to her his whole heart and mind, so that no doubt of him,
+no slightest distrust, could ever disturb her peace. Not only did he
+owe her this complete sincerity; to him it would be no less delightful,
+no less tranquillising.
+
+He sat down to write a note.
+
+"Dear Constance--" yes, that sufficed. "When can I see you? Let it be
+as soon as possible. Of course you have understood my silence. Do you
+stay at Rivenoak a little longer? Let me come to-morrow, if possible."
+
+After a little reflection, he signed himself, "Ever yours, D. L."
+
+Having despatched this by private messenger, he went out and took a
+walk, choosing the direction away from Rivenoak. As he rambled along an
+uninteresting road, it occurred to him that he ought to write to Mrs.
+Woolstan. No need, of course, to say anything about the results of Lady
+Ogram's decease, but he really owed Iris a letter, just to show that he
+was not unmindful of her kindness. The foolish little woman had done
+her best for him; indeed, without her help, where would he have been
+now? He must pay his debt to her as soon as possible, and it would of
+course be necessary to speak of the matter to Constance. Not, perhaps,
+till after their marriage. Well, he would see; he might possibly have
+an impulse. Happily this was the very last of the unpleasant details he
+would have to dismiss. The luxury of living without concealment,
+unembarrassed, and unafraid!
+
+By the bye, how would Constance understand the duties of her
+trusteeship? What portion of her income would she feel at liberty to
+set apart for personal uses? In all likelihood, she had spoken of that
+with Lady Ogram; at their coming interview, she would fully explain her
+position.
+
+He returned to the hotel, and dined alone. To his disappointment, there
+came no answer from Rivenoak. Was it possible that Constance had
+already gone away? Very unlikely, so soon after the funeral. She would
+reply, no doubt, by post; indeed, there was no hurry, and a little
+reserve on her part would be quite natural.
+
+Morning brought him the expected letter. "Dear Mr. Lashmar--" Oh, that
+was nothing; merely the reserve he had anticipated: he liked her the
+better for it. "I shall be at home all to-morrow, busy with many
+things. Could you come about three o'clock? Sincerely yours, Constance
+Bride." What could be in better taste? How else could she write, under
+the circumstances? His real wooing had not yet begun, and she merely
+reminded him of that, with all gentleness.
+
+So, in the afternoon he once more presented himself at Rivenoak, and
+once more followed the servant into the drawing-room; Constance sat
+there; she rose as he approached, and silently gave her hand. He
+thought she looked rather pale; that might be the effect of black
+attire, which made a noticeable change in her appearance. But a certain
+dignity of which the visitor was very sensible, a grace of movement and
+of bearing which seemed new to her, could not be attributed to the
+dress she wore. In a saddened voice, he hoped that she was well, that
+she had not suffered from the agitations of the past week; and, with
+courtesy such as she might have used to anyone, Constance replied that
+she felt a little tired, not quite herself. They talked for some
+minutes in this way. Lashmar learnt that the Amyses had returned to
+London.
+
+"For the present, you stay here?" he said, the interrogative accent
+only just perceptible.
+
+"For a day or two. My secretaryship goes on, of course. I have a good
+deal of correspondence to see to."
+
+On his way hither, Lashmar had imagined quite a different meeting; he
+anticipated an emotional scene, beginning with forced calm on
+Constance's side, leading OR to reproaches, explanations, and masculine
+triumph. But Constance was strangely self-possessed, and her mind
+seemed to be not at all occupied with agitating subjects. Lashmar was
+puzzled; he felt it wise to imitate her example, to behave as quietly
+and naturally as possible, taking for granted that she viewed the
+situation even as he did.
+
+He turned his eyes to the marble bust on its pedestal behind Constance.
+The note of scorn in its fixed smile caught his attention.
+
+"So that is to stand in the Hospital," he murmured.
+
+"Yes, I believe so," replied Constance, absently, with a glance towards
+the white face.
+
+"What strange stories it will give rise to, in days to come! She will
+become a legendary figure. I can hardly believe that I saw and talked
+with her only a few days ago. Have you the same feeling at all? Doesn't
+she seem to you more like someone you have read of, than a person you
+really knew?"
+
+"I understand what you mean," said Constance, smiling thoughtfully.
+"It's certain one will never again know anyone like her."
+
+"Are all the provisions of her will practicable?"
+
+"Perfectly, I think. She took great trouble to make them so. By the
+bye, from whom did you get your information?"
+
+It was asked in a disinterested voice, the speaker's look resting for a
+moment on Lashmar with unembarrassed directness.
+
+"Mrs. Toplady told me about the will."
+
+Dyce paused for a moment, then continued, with an obvious effort
+indeed, but in an even voice.
+
+"She came to see me, after the funeral. Mrs. Toplady has a persevering
+curiosity; she wanted to know what had happened, and, I have no doubt,
+had recourse to me after finding that you were not disposed to talk as
+freely as she wished. I was able to enlighten her on one point."
+
+"May I ask what point?"
+
+"She began by telling me that Miss Tomalin was at her house. She had
+heard Miss Tomalin's story, with the result that she supposed me in
+honour bound to marry that young lady. I explained that this was by no
+means the case."
+
+"How did you explain it?" asked Constance, still in her disinterested
+tone.
+
+"By telling the simple truth, that Miss Tomalin had herself cancelled
+the engagement existing between us."
+
+"I see."
+
+Constance leaned back in her chair. She looked like one who is sitting
+alone, occupied with tranquil reflection. Dyce allowed a moment to
+elapse before he again spoke; he was smiling to himself.
+
+"How strange it all is!" he at length resumed, as though starting from
+a reverie. "This past fortnight seems already as dim and vague to me as
+the recollection of something that happened long years ago. I never
+believed myself capable of such follies. Tell me frankly." He leaned
+towards Constance, gazing at her in an amused, confidential way. "Could
+you have imagined that I should ever lose my head like that, and run
+off into such vagaries?"
+
+Constance also smiled, but very faintly. Her eyebrows rose, ever so
+little. Her lips just moved, but uttered no sound.
+
+"You know me better than anyone else ever did or ever will," he went
+on. "It is quite possible that you know me better than I know myself.
+Did you ever foresee such a possibility?"
+
+"I can't say that it astonished me," was the deliberate reply, without
+any ironic note.
+
+"Well, I am glad of that," said Dyce, with a little sign of relief.
+"It's much better so. I like to think that you read me with so clear an
+eye. For years I have studied myself, and I thought I knew how I should
+act in any given circumstances; yet it was mere illusion. What I regret
+is that I hadn't talked more to you about such things; you would very
+likely have put me on my guard. I always felt your power of reading
+character, it seemed to me that I concealed nothing from you. We were
+always so frank with each other--yet not frank enough, after all."
+
+"I'm afraid not," assented the listener, absently.
+
+"Well, it's an experience; though, as I say, more like a bit of
+delirium than actual life. Happily, you know all about it; I shall
+never have to tell you the absurd story. But I mustn't forget that
+other thing which really did surprise and vex you--my bit of foolish
+plagiarism. I have so wanted to talk to you about it. You have read the
+whole book?"
+
+"Very carefully."
+
+"And what do you think of it?" he asked, with an air of keen interest.
+
+"Just what I thought of the large quotations I had heard from you. The
+theory seems plausible; I should think there is a good deal of truth in
+it. In any case, it helps one to direct one's life."
+
+"Oh, you feel that? Now _there_," exclaimed Lashmar, his eye
+brightening, "is the explanation of what seemed to you very
+dishonourable behaviour in me. You know me, and you will understand as
+soon as I hint at the psychology of the thing. When that book fell into
+my hands, I was seeking eagerly for a theory of the world by which to
+live. I have had many glimpses of the truth about life--glimpses gained
+by my own honest thought. This book completed the theory I had been
+shaping for myself; it brought me mental rest, and a sense of fixed
+purpose such as I had never known. Its reconciliation of the
+aristocratic principle with a true socialism was exactly what I had
+been striving for; it put me at harmony with myself, for you know that
+I am at the same time Aristocrat and Socialist. Well now, I spoke of
+the book to my father, and begged him to read it. It was when we met at
+Alverholme, in the spring, you remember? How long ago does that seem to
+you? To me, several years. Yes, I had the volume with me, and showed it
+to my father; sufficient proof that I had no intention of using it
+dishonestly. But--follow me, I beg--I had so absorbed the theory, so
+thoroughly made it the directing principle of my mind, that I very soon
+ceased to think of it as somebody else's work. I completed it with all
+sorts of new illustrations, confirmations, which had been hanging loose
+in my memory, and the result was that I one day found myself talking
+about it as if it had originated with me. If I'm not mistaken, I was
+talking with Dymchurch--yes, it was Dymchurch. When I had time to
+reflect, I saw what I had unconsciously done quite unconsciously,
+believe me. I thought it over, Ought I to let Dymchurch know where I
+had got my central idea? And I decided at length that I would say
+nothing."
+
+Constance, leaning back in her chair, listened attentively, with
+impartial countenance.
+
+"You see why, don't you?" His voice thrilled with earnestness; his eyes
+shone as if with the very light of truth. "To say calmly: By the bye, I
+came across that bio-sociological theory in such and such a book, would
+have been a flagrant injustice to myself. I couldn't ask Dymchurch to
+listen whilst I elaborately expounded my mental and spiritual history
+during the past year or two, yet short of that there was no way of
+making him understand the situation. The thing had become _mine_; I
+thought by it, and lived by it; I couldn't bear to speak of it as
+merely an interesting hypothesis discovered in the course of my
+reading. At once it would have seemed to me to carry less weight; I
+should have been thrown back again into uncertainty. This, too, just at
+the moment when a principle, a conviction, had become no less a
+practical than a subjective need to me; for--thanks to you--I saw a new
+hope in life, the possibility of an active career which would give
+scope to all my energies. Do you follow me? Do I make myself clear?"
+
+"Perfectly," replied Constance, with a slight inclination of her head.
+She seemed both to listen and to be absorbed in thought.
+
+"From that moment, I ceased to think of the book. I had as good as
+forgotten its existence. Though, on the whole, it had done me so great
+a service, there were many things in it I didn't like, and these would
+now have annoyed me much more than at the first reading. I should have
+felt as if the man had got hold of _my_ philosophy, and presented it
+imperfectly. You will understand now why I was so astonished at your
+charge of plagiarism. I really didn't know what to say; I couldn't
+perceive your point of view: I don't remember how I replied, I'm afraid
+my behaviour seemed only to confirm your suspicion. In very truth, it
+was the result of genuine surprise. Of course I had only to reflect to
+see how this discovery must have come upon you, but then it was too
+late. We were in the thick of extraordinary complications: no hope of
+quiet and reasonable talk. Since the tragic end, I have worried
+constantly about that misunderstanding. Is it quite cleared up? We must
+be frank with each other now or never. Speak your thought as honestly
+as I have spoken mine."
+
+"I completely understand you," was the meditative reply.
+
+"I was sure you would! To some people, such an explanation would be
+useless; Mrs. Toplady, for instance. I should be sorry to have to
+justify myself by psychological reasoning to Mrs. Toplady. And,
+remember, Mrs. Toplady represents the world. A wise man does not try to
+explain himself to the world; enough if, by exceptional good luck,
+there is one person to whom he can confidently talk of his struggles
+and his purposes. Don't suppose, however, that I lay claim to any great
+wisdom; after the last fortnight, that would be rather laughable. But I
+am capable of benefiting by experience, and very few men can truly say
+as much. It is on the practical side that I have hitherto been most
+deficient. I see my way to correcting that fault. Nothing could be
+better for me, just now, than electioneering work. It will take me out
+of myself, and give a rest to the speculative side of my mind. Don't
+you agree with me?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+"There's another thing I must make clear to you," Dyce pursued, now
+swimming delightedly on the flood of his own eloquence. "For a long
+time I seriously doubted whether I was fit for a political career. My
+ambition always tended that way, but my conscience went against it. I
+used to regard politics with a good deal of contempt. You remember our
+old talks, at Alverholme?"
+
+Constance nodded.
+
+"In one respect, I am still of the same opinion. Most men who go in for
+a parliamentary career regard it either as a business by which they and
+their friends are to profit, or as an easy way of gratifying their
+personal vanity, and social ambitions. That, of course, is why we are
+so far from ideal government. I used to think that the man in earnest
+should hold aloof from Parliament, and work in more hopeful ways--by
+literature, for instance. But I see now that the fact of the
+degradation of Parliament is the very reason why a man thinking as I do
+should try to get into the House of Commons. If all serious minds hold
+aloof, what will the government of the country sink to? The House of
+Commons is becoming in the worst sense democratic; it represents, above
+all, newly acquired wealth, and wealth which has no sense of its
+responsibilities. The representative system can only be restored to
+dignity and usefulness by the growth of a new Liberalism. What I
+understand by that, you already know. One of its principles--that which
+for the present must be most insisted upon--is the right use of money.
+Irresponsible riches threaten to ruin our civilisation. What we have
+first of all to do is to form the nucleus of a party which represents
+money as a civilising, instead of a corrupting, power."
+
+He looked into Constance's eyes, and she, smiling as if at a distant
+object, met his look steadily.
+
+"I have been working out this thought," he continued, with vigorous
+accent. "I see it now as my guiding principle in the narrower
+sense--the line along which I must pursue the greater ends. The
+possession of money commonly says very little for a man's moral and
+intellectual worth, but there is the minority of well-to-do people who
+have the will to use their means rightly, if only they knew how. This
+minority must be organised. It must attract intellect and moral force
+from every social rank. Money must be used against money, and in this
+struggle it is not the big battalions which will prevail. Personally I
+care very little for wealth, as I think you know. I have no expensive
+tastes; I can live without luxuries. Oh, I like to be comfortable, and
+to be free from anxiety; who doesn't? But I never felt the impulse to
+strive to enrich myself. On the other hand, money as a civilising force
+has great value in my eyes. Without it, one can work indeed, but with
+what slow results? It is time to be up and doing. We must organise our
+party, get our new Liberalism to work.--In this also, do you agree with
+me?"
+
+"It is certain," Constance replied, "that the right use of money is one
+of the great questions of our day."
+
+"I know how much you have thought of it," said Dyce. Then, after a
+short pause, he added in his frankest tone, "And it concerns you
+especially."
+
+"It does."
+
+"Do you feel," he softened his voice to respectful intimacy, "that, in
+devoting yourself to this cause, you will be faithful to the trusts you
+have accepted?"
+
+Constance answered deliberately.
+
+"It depends upon what you understand by devoting myself. Beyond a
+doubt, Lady Ogram would have approved the idea as you put it."
+
+"And would she not have given me her confidence as its representative?"
+asked Dyce, smiling.
+
+"Up to a certain point. Lady Ogram desired, for instance, to bear the
+expenses of your contest at Hollingford, and I should like to carry out
+her wish in the matter."
+
+A misgiving began to trouble Lashmar's sanguine mood. He searched his
+companion's face; it seemed to him to have grown more emphatic in
+expression; there was a certain hardness about the lips which he had
+not yet observed. Still, Constance looked friendly, and her eyes
+supported his glance.
+
+"Thank you," he murmured, with some feeling. "And, if, by chance, I
+should be beaten? You wouldn't lose courage? We must remember--"
+
+"You have asked me many questions," Constance interrupted quietly. "Let
+me use the privilege of frankness which we grant each other, and ask
+you one in turn. Your private means are sufficient for the career upon
+which you are entering?"
+
+"My private means?"
+
+He gazed at her as if he did not understand, the smile fading from his
+lips.
+
+"Forgive me if you think I am going too far--"
+
+"Not at all!" Dyce exclaimed, eagerly. "It is a question you have a
+perfect right to ask. But I thought you knew I had _no_ private means."
+
+"No, I wasn't aware of that," Constance replied, in a voice of studious
+civility. "Then how do you propose--?"
+
+Their eyes encountered. Constance did not for an instant lose her
+self-command; Lashmar's efforts to be calm only made his embarrassment
+more obvious.
+
+"I had a small allowance from my father till lately," he said. "But
+that has come to an end. It never occurred to me that you misunderstood
+my position. Surely I have more than once hinted to you how poor I was?
+I had no intention of misleading you. Lady Ogram certainly knew----"
+
+"She knew you were not wealthy, but she thought you had a competence. I
+told her so, when she questioned me. It was a mistake, I see, but a
+very natural one."
+
+"Does it matter, now?" asked Dyce, his lips again curling amiably.
+
+"I should suppose it mattered much. How shall you live?"
+
+"Let us understand each other. Do you withdraw your consent to Lady
+Ogram's last wish?"
+
+"That wish, as you see, was founded on a misunderstanding."
+
+"But," exclaimed Lashmar, "you are not speaking seriously?"
+
+"Quite. Lady Ogram certainly never intended the money she had left in
+trust to me to be used for your private needs. Reflect a moment, and
+you will see how impossible it would be for me to apply the money in
+such a way."
+
+"Reflection," said Dyce, with unnatural quietness, "would only increase
+my astonishment at your ingenuity. It would have been much simpler and
+better to say at once that you had changed your mind. Can you for a
+moment expect me to believe that this argument really justifies you in
+breaking your promise?"
+
+"I assure you," replied Constance, also in a soft undertone, "it is
+much sounder reasoning than that by which you excuse your philosophical
+plagiarism."
+
+Lashmar's eyes wandered. They fell upon the marble bust; its disdainful
+smile seemed to him more pronounced than ever.
+
+"Then," he cried, on an impulse of desperation, "you really mean to
+take Lady Ogram's money, and to disregard the very condition on which
+she left it to you?"
+
+"You forget that her will was made before she had heard your name."
+
+He sat in silence, a gloomy resentment lowering on his features. After
+a glance at him, Constance began to speak in a calm, reasonable voice.
+
+"It is my turn to confess. I, too, seem to myself to have been living
+in a sort of dream, and my awaking is no less decisive than yours. At
+your instigation, I behaved dishonestly; I am very much ashamed of the
+recollection. Happily, I see my way to atone for the follies, and
+worse, that I committed. I can carry out Lady Ogram's wishes--the
+wishes she formed while still in her sound mind--and to that I shall
+devote my life."
+
+"Do you intend, then, to apply none of this money to your personal use?
+Do you mean to earn your own living still?"
+
+"That would defeat Lady Ogram's purpose," was the calm answer. "I shall
+live where and how it seems good to me, guided always by the intention
+which I know was in her mind."
+
+Dyce sat with his head bent forward, his hands grasping his knees.
+After what seemed to be profound reflection, he said gravely:
+
+"This is how you think to-day. I won't be so unjust to you as to take
+it for your final reply."
+
+"Yet that's what it is," answered Constance.
+
+"You think so. The sudden possession of wealth has disturbed your mind.
+If I took you at your word," he spoke with measured accent, "I should
+be guilty of behaviour much more dishonourable than that of which you
+accuse me. I can wait." He smiled with a certain severity. "It is my
+duty to wait until you have recovered your natural way of thinking."
+
+Constance was looking at him, her eyes full of wonder and amusement.
+
+"Thank you," she said. "You are very kind, very considerate. But
+suppose you reflect for a moment on your theory of the equality of man
+and woman. Doesn't it suggest an explanation of what you call my
+disordered state of mind?--Let us use plain words. You want money for
+your career, and, as the need is pressing, you are willing to take the
+encumbrance of a wife. I am to feel myself honoured by your acceptance
+of me, to subject myself entirely to your purposes, to think it a
+glorious reward if I can aid your ambition. Is there much equality in
+this arrangement?"
+
+"You put things in the meanest light," protested Lashmar. "What I offer
+you is a share in all my thoughts, a companionship in whatever I do or
+become. I have no exaggerated sense of my own powers, but this I know,
+that, with fair opportunity, I can attain distinction. If I thought of
+you as in any sense an encumbrance, I shouldn't dream of asking you to
+marry me; it would defeat the object of my life. I have always seen in
+you just the kind of woman who would understand me and help me."
+
+"My vanity will grant you that," replied Constance. "But for the moment
+I want you to inquire whether you are the kind of man who would
+understand and help _me_.--You are surprised. That's quite a new way of
+putting the matter, isn't it? You never saw _that_ as a result of your
+theory?"
+
+"Stay!" Dyce raised his hand. "I know perfectly well that you are
+ambitious. If you were not, we should never have become friends. But
+you must remember that, from my point of view, I am offering you such a
+chance of gratifying your ambition as you will hardly find again."
+
+"That is to say, the reflection of _your_ glory. As a woman, what more
+can I ask? You can't think how this amuses me, now that I have come to
+my senses. Putting aside the question of whether you are likely to win
+glory at all, have you no suspicion of your delightful arrogance? I
+should like to know how far your contempt of women really goes. It went
+far enough, at all events, to make you think that I believed your talk
+about equality of the sexes. But really, I am not quite such a
+simpleton. I always knew that you despised women, that you looked upon
+them as creatures to be made use of. If you ask: why, then, did I
+endure you for a moment? the answer must be, that I am a woman. You
+see, Mr. Lashmar, we females of the human species are complex. Some of
+us think and act very foolishly, and all the time, somewhere in our
+curious minds, are dolefully aware of our foolishness. You knew that of
+_men_; let me assure you that women share the unhappy privilege."
+
+Lashmar was listening with knitted brows. No word came to his lips.
+
+"You interest me," pursued Constance. "I think you are rather a typical
+man of our time, and it isn't at all impossible that you may become, as
+you say, distinguished. But, clothed and in my right mind, I don't feel
+disposed to pay the needful price for the honour of helping you on. You
+mustn't lose heart; I have little doubt that some other woman will
+grasp at the opportunity you so kindly wish to reserve for me. But may
+I venture a word of counsel? Don't let it be a woman who holds the
+equality theory. I say this in the interest of your peace and
+happiness. There are plenty of women, still, who like to be despised,
+and some of them are very nice indeed. They are the only good wives; I
+feel sure of it. We others--women cursed with brains--are not meant for
+marriage. We grow in numbers, unfortunately. What will be the end of
+it, I don't know. Some day you will thank your stars that you did not
+marry a woman capable of understanding you."
+
+Dyce stood up and took a few steps about the floor, his eyes fixed on
+the marble bust.
+
+"When can I see you again?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"I shall be going to London in a day or two; I don't think we will meet
+again--until your circumstances are better. Can you give me any idea of
+what the election expenses will be?"
+
+"Not yet," Dyce answered, in an undertone. "You are going to London?
+Will you tell me what you mean to do?"
+
+"To pursue my career."
+
+"Your career?"
+
+"That surprises you, of course. It never occurred to you that I also
+might have a career in view. Yet I have. Let us enter upon a friendly
+competition. Five years hence, which of us will be better known?"
+
+"I see," remarked Dyce, his lip curling. "You will use your money to
+make yourself talked about?"
+
+"Not primarily; but it is very likely that that will result from my
+work. It offends your sense of what is becoming in a woman?"
+
+"It throws light upon what you have been saying."
+
+"So I meant. You will see, when you think about it, that I am acting
+strangely like a male creature. We females with minds have a way of
+doing that. I'll say more, for I really want you to understand me. 'The
+sudden possession of wealth' has not, as you suppose, turned my head,
+but it has given my thoughts a most salutary shaking, and made me feel
+twice the woman that I was. At this moment, I should as soon think of
+taking a place as kitchen-maid as of becoming any man's wife. I am
+free, and have power to assert myself--the first desire, let me assure
+you, of modern woman no less than of modern man. That I shall assert
+myself for the good of others is a peculiarity of mine, a result of my
+special abilities; I take no credit for it. Some day we shall meet
+again, and talk over our experiences; for the present, let us be
+content with corresponding now and then. You shall have my address as
+soon as I am settled."
+
+She rose, and Lashmar gazed at her. He saw that she was as little to be
+moved by an appeal, by an argument, as the marble bust behind her.
+
+"I suppose," he said, "you will appear on platforms?"
+
+"Oh dear no!" Constance replied, with a laugh. "My ambition doesn't
+take that form. I leave that to you, who are much more eloquent."
+
+"How you have altered!" He kept gazing at her, with a certain awe. "I
+hardly know you."
+
+"I doubt whether you know me at all. Never mind." She held out her
+hand. "We may be friends yet when you have come to understand that you
+are not so very, very much my superior."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Lashmar walked hack to Hollingford, and reached the hotel without any
+consciousness of the road by which he had come. He felt as tired as if
+he had been walking all day. When he had dropped into an easy chair, he
+let his arms hang, and, with head drooping forward, stared at his feet
+stretched out before him: the posture suggested a man half overcome
+with drink.
+
+He had a private meeting to attend to-night. Should he attend it or
+not? His situation had become farcical. Was it not his plain duty to
+withdraw at once from the political contest, that a serious candidate
+might as soon as possible take his place? Where could he discern even
+the glimmer of a hope in this sudden darkness? His heart was heavy and
+cold.
+
+He went through the business of the evening, talking automatically,
+seeing and hearing as in a dream. He had no longer the slightest faith
+in his electioneering prospects, and wondered how he could ever have
+been sanguine about them. Of course the Conservative would win.
+Breakspeare knew it; every member of the committee knew it; they
+pretended to hope because the contest amused and occupied them. No
+Liberal had a chance at Hollingford. To-morrow he would throw the thing
+up, and disappear. Never in his life had he passed such a miserable
+night. At each waking from hag-ridden slumbers, the blackest
+despondency beset him; once or twice his tortured brain even glanced
+towards suicide; temptation lurking in the assurance that, by
+destroying himself, he would become, for a few days at all events, the
+subject of universal interest. He found no encouragement even in the
+thought of Iris Woolstan. Not only had he deeply offended her by his
+engagement to Constance Bride, but almost certainly she would hear from
+her friend Mrs. Toplady the whole truth of his disaster, which put him
+beyond hope of pardon. He owed her money; with what face, even if she
+did not know the worst, could he go to her and ask for another loan? In
+vain did he remember the many proofs he had received of Mrs. Woolstan's
+devotion; since the interview with Constance, all belief in himself was
+at an end. He had thought his eloquence, his personal magnetism,
+irresistible; Constance had shown him the extent of his delusion. If he
+saw Iris, the result would be the same.
+
+At moments, so profound was his feeling of insignificance that he hid
+his face even from the darkness, and groaned.
+
+Not only had he lost faith in himself; there remained to him no
+conviction, no trust, no hope of any kind. Intellectually, morally, he
+had no support; shams, insincerities, downright dishonesties, had
+clothed him about, and these were now all stripped away, leaving the
+thing he called his soul to quiver in shamed nakedness. He knew
+nothing; he believed nothing. But death still made him fearful.
+
+With the first gleam of daylight, he flung himself out of his hot,
+uncomfortable bed, and hastened to be a clothed mortal once more. He
+felt better as soon as he had dressed himself and opened the window.
+The night with its terrible hauntings was a thing gone by.
+
+At breakfast he thought fixedly of Iris Woolstan. Perhaps Iris had not
+seen Mrs. Toplady yet. Perhaps, at heart, she was not so utterly
+estranged from him as he feared; something of his old power over her
+might even now be recovered. It was the resource of desperation; he
+must try it.
+
+The waiter's usual respect seemed, this morning, covert mockery. The
+viands had no savour; only the draught of coffee that soothed his
+throat was good. He had a headache, and a tremor of the nerves. In any
+case, it would have been impossible to get through the day in the usual
+manner, and his relief when he found himself at the railway station was
+almost a return of good spirits.
+
+On reaching London, he made straight for West Hampstead. As he
+approached Mrs. Woolstan's house, his heart beat violently. Without
+even a glance at the windows, he rang the visitor's bell. It sounded
+distinctly, but there came no response. He rang again, and again
+listened to the far-off tinkling. Only then did he perceive that the
+blinds at the lower windows were drawn. The house was vacant.
+
+Paralysed for a moment, he stared about, as if in search of someone who
+could give him information. Then, with sweat on his forehead, he
+stepped up to the next door, and asked if anything was known of Mrs.
+Woolstan; he learnt only that she had been absent for about ten days;
+where she was, the servant with whom he spoke could not tell him. Were
+the other neighbours likely to know?--he asked. Encouraged by a bare
+possibility, he inquired at the house beyond; but in vain.
+
+Fate was against him. He might as well go home and write a letter to
+his committee at Hollingford.
+
+Stay, could he not remember the school to which Leonard Woolstan had
+been sent? Yes it was noted in his pocket-book; for he had promised to
+write to the boy.
+
+He sought the nearest post-office, and dispatched a telegram to
+Leonard; "Please let me know immediately your mother's present
+address." The reply was to be sent to his rooms in Devonshire Street,
+and thither he straightway betook himself, hoping that in an hour or so
+he would have news. An extempore lunch was put before him; never had he
+satisfied his hunger with less gusto. Time went on; the afternoon
+brought him no telegram. At seven o'clock he lay on his sofa, exhausted
+by nervous strain, anticipating a hideous night. Again his thoughts had
+turned to suicide. It would be easier to obtain poison here than at
+Hollingford. Laudanum? Death under laudanum must be very easy, mere
+falling asleep in a sort of intoxication. But he must leave behind him
+something in writing, something which would excite attention when it
+appeared in all the newspapers. Addressed to the coroner? No; to his
+committee. He would hint to them of a tragic story, of noble powers and
+ambitions frustrated by the sordid difficulties of life. The very
+truth, let malice say what it would. At his age, with his brain and
+heart, to perish thus for want of a little money! As he dwelt on the
+infinite pathos of the thing, tears welled to his eyes, trickled over
+his cheek--
+
+Of a sudden, he started up, and shouted "Come in!" Yes, it was a
+telegram; he took it from the servant's hand with an exclamation of
+joy. Leonard informed him that Mrs. Woolstan was staying at Gorleston,
+near Yarmouth, her address "Sunrise Terrace." He clutched at a railway
+guide. Too late to get to Yarmouth to-night, but that did not matter.
+"Sunrise Terrace!" In his sorry state of mind, a name of such good omen
+brought him infinite comfort. He rushed out of the house, and walked at
+a great rate, impelled by the joy of feeling himself alive once more.
+Sunrise! Iris Woolstan would save him. Already he warmed with gratitude
+to her: he thought of her with a tender kindness. She might be richer
+than he supposed; at all events, she was in circumstances which would
+allow him to live independently. And was she not just the kind of woman
+Constance Bride had advised him to marry? Advice given in scorn, but,
+his conscience told him, thoroughly sound. A nice, gentle, sufficiently
+intelligent little woman. Pity that there was the boy; but he would
+always be at school. Suppose she had only four or five hundred a year?
+Oh, probably more than that, seeing that she could economise such
+substantial sums. He was saved; the sun would rise for him, literally
+and in metaphor.
+
+A rainy morning saw him at Liverpool Street. The squalid roofs of
+north-east London dripped miserably under a leaden sky. Not till the
+train reached the borders of Suffolk did a glint of sun fall upon
+meadow and stream; thence onwards the heavens brightened; the risen
+clouds gleamed above a shining shore. Lashmar did not love this part of
+England, and he wondered why Mrs. Woolstan had chosen such a retreat,
+but in the lightness of his heart he saw only pleasant things. Arrived
+at Yarmouth, he jumped into a cab, and was driven along the dull, flat
+road which leads to Gorleston. Odour of the brine made amends for miles
+of lodgings, for breaks laden with boisterous trippers, for tram cars
+and piano-organs. Here at length was Sunrise Terrace, a little row of
+plain houses on the top of the cliff, with sea-horizon vast before it,
+and soft green meadow-land far as one could see behind. Bidding his
+driver wait, Lashmar knocked at the door, and stood tremulous. It was
+half-past twelve; Iris might or might not have returned from her
+morning walk; he prepared for a brief disappointment. But worse awaited
+him. Mrs. Woolstan, he learnt, would not be at home for the mid-day
+meal; she was with friends who had a house at Gorleston.
+
+"Where is the house?" he asked, impatiently, stamping as if his feet
+were cold.
+
+The woman pointed his way.
+
+"Who are the people? What is their name?"
+
+He heard it, but it conveyed nothing to him. After a moment's
+reflection, he decided to go to the hotel, and there write a note.
+Whilst he was having lunch, the reply came, a dry missive, saying that,
+if he would call at three o'clock, Mrs. Woolstan would have much
+pleasure in presenting him to her friends the Barkers, with whom she
+was spending the day.
+
+Lashmar fumed, but obeyed the invitation. In a garden on the edge of
+the cliff, he found half a dozen persons; an elderly man who looked
+like a retired tradesman, his wife, of suitable appearance, their son,
+their two daughters, and Iris Woolstan. Loud and mirthful talk was
+going on; his arrival interrupted it only for a moment.
+
+"So glad to see you!" was Mrs. Woolstan's friendly, but not cordial,
+greeting. "I didn't know you ever came to the east coast."
+
+Introductions were carelessly made; he seated himself on a camp-stool
+by one of the young ladies, and dropped a few insignificant remarks. No
+one paid much attention to him.
+
+"Seventy-five runs!" exclaimed Mrs. Woolstan, addressing herself as
+though with keen interest to the son of the family, a high-coloured,
+large-limbed young man of about Lashmar's age. "That was splendid! But
+you did better still against East Croydon, didn't you?"
+
+"Made my century, there," answered Mr. Barker, jerking out a leg in
+self-satisfaction.
+
+"How conceited you're making him, Mrs. Woolstan!" cried one of his
+sisters, with a shrill laugh. "It's a rule in this house to put the
+stopper on Jim when he begins to talk about cricket. If we didn't,
+there'd be no living with him."
+
+"Are you a cricketer, Mr.--Mr. Lasher?" asked materfamilias, eyeing the
+visitor curiously.
+
+"It's a long time since I played," was the reply, uttered with scarcely
+veiled contempt.
+
+Mrs. Woolstan talked on in the highest spirits, exhibiting her intimacy
+with the Barker household, and her sympathy with their concerns.
+Lashmar waited for her to question him about Hollingford, to give him
+an opportunity of revealing his importance; but her thoughts seemed
+never to turn in that direction. As soon as a movement in the company
+enabled him to rise, he stepped up to her, and said in a voice audible
+to those standing by:
+
+"I want to speak to you about Leonard. Shall you be at home this
+evening?"
+
+Iris gave him a startled look.
+
+"You haven't bad news of Len?"
+
+"Oh no; nothing of the kind."
+
+"Can you call at six o'clock?"
+
+He looked into her eyes, and nodded.
+
+"What do you say to a boat, Mrs. Woolstan?" shouted Barker the son.
+
+This suggestion was acclaimed, and Lashmar was urged to join the party,
+but he gladly seized this chance of escape. Wandering along the grassy
+edge of the cliffs, he presently descried the Barkers and their friend
+putting forth in two little boats. The sight exasperated him. He strode
+gloomily on, ever and again turning his head to watch the boats, and
+struggling against the fears that once more assailed him.
+
+In a hollow of dry sand, where the cliffs broke, he flung himself down,
+and lay still for an hour or two. Below him, on the edge of the tide,
+children were playing; he watched them sullenly. Lashmar disliked
+children; the sound of their voices was disagreeable to him. He
+wondered whether he would ever have children of his own, and heartily
+hoped not.
+
+Six o'clock seemed very long in coming. But at length he found himself
+at Sunrise Terrace again, and was admitted to an ordinary lodging-house
+parlour, where, with tea on the table, Mrs. Woolstan awaited him. The
+sea air had evidently done her good; she looked younger and prettier
+than when Dyce last saw her, and the tea-gown she wore became her well.
+
+"How did you know where I was?" she began by asking, rather distantly.
+
+Lashmar told her in detail.
+
+"But why were you so anxious to see me?--Sugar, I think?"
+
+"It's a long story," he replied, looking t her from under his eyebrows,
+"and I don't much care or telling it in a place like' this, where all
+we say can be heard by anyone on the other side of the door."
+
+Iris was watching his countenance. The cold politeness with which she
+had received him had become a very transparent mask; beneath it showed
+eager curiosity and trembling hope.
+
+"We can go out, if you like," she said.
+
+"And most likely meet those singular friends of yours. Who on earth are
+they?"
+
+"Very nice people," replied Mrs. Woolstan, holding up her head.
+
+"They are intolerably vulgar, and you must be aware of it. I felt
+ashamed to see you among them. What are you doing at a place like this?
+Why have you shut up your house?"
+
+"Really," exclaimed Iris, with a flutter, "that is my business."
+
+Lashmar's nervous irritation was at once subdued. He looked timidly at
+the indignant face, let his eyes fall, and murmured an apology.
+
+"I've been going through strange things, and I'm not quite master of
+myself. The night before last"--his voice sunk to a hollow note--"I
+very nearly took poison."
+
+"What do you mean? Poison?"
+
+Mrs. Woolstan's eyes widened in horror. Lashmar regarded her with a
+smile of intense melancholy.
+
+"One thing only kept me from it. I remembered that I was in your debt,
+and I felt it would be too cowardly."
+
+"What has happened?--Come and sit near the window; no one could hear us
+talking here. I have been expecting to read of your election. Is it
+something to do with Lady Ogram's death? I have wanted so much to know
+about that, and how it affected you."
+
+A few questions gave Dyce the comfortable assurance that Iris had not
+seen Mrs. Toplady for a long time. Trouble with servants, she said,
+coming after a slight illness, had decided her to quit her house for
+the rest of the summer, and the Barkers persuaded her to come to
+Gorleston. When Leonard left school for his holidays, she meant to go
+with him to some nice place.
+
+"But do tell me what you mean by those dreadful words? And why have you
+come to see _me_?"
+
+She was her old self, the Iris Woolstan on whom first of all Lashmar
+had tried his "method," who had so devoutly believed in him and given
+such substantial proof of her faith. The man felt his power, and began
+to recover self-respect.
+
+"Tell me one thing," he said, bending towards her. "May I remain your
+debtor for a little longer? Will it put you to inconvenience?"
+
+"Not at all!" was the impulsive reply. "I told you I didn't want the
+money. I have more than six hundred pounds a year, and never spend
+quite all of it."
+
+Lashmar durst not raise his eyes lest a gleam of joy should betray him.
+He knew now what he had so long desired to know. Six hundred a year; it
+was enough.
+
+"You are very kind. That relieves me. For two or three days I have been
+in despair. Yes, you shall hear all about it. I owe you the whole
+truth, for no one ever understood me as you did, and no one ever gave
+me such help--of every kind. First of all, about my engagement to Miss
+Bride. It's at an end. But more than that it wasn't a real engagement
+at all. We tried to play a comedy, and the end has been tragic."
+
+Iris drew a deep breath of wonder. Her little lips were parted, her
+little eyebrows made a high arch; she had the face of a child who
+listens to a strange and half terrifying story.
+
+"Don't you see how it was?" he exclaimed, in a subdued voice of
+melodious sadness. "Lady Ogram discovered that her niece--you remember
+May Tomalin? thought rather too well of me. This did not suit her
+views; she had planned a marriage between May and Lord Dymchurch. You
+know what her temper was. One day she gave me the choice: either I
+married Constance Bride, or I never entered her house again. Imagine my
+position. Think of me, with my ambitions, my pride, and the debt I had
+incurred to you. Can you blame me much if, seeing that Lady Ogram's
+life might end any day, I met her tyranny by stratagem. How I longed to
+tell you the truth! But I felt bound in honour to silence. Constance
+Bride, my friend and never anything more, agreed to the pretence of an
+engagement. Wasn't it brave of her? And so things went on, until the
+day when Dymchurch came down to Rivenoak, and proposed to May. The
+silly girl refused him. There was a terrible scene, such as I hope
+never to behold again. May was driven forth from the house, and Lady
+Ogram, just as she was bidding me take steps for my immediate marriage,
+fell to the ground unconscious--dying."
+
+He paused impressively. The listener was panting as if she had run a
+race.
+
+"And the will?" she asked.
+
+"It dates from a year ago. May Tomalin is not mentioned in it. I, of
+course, have nothing."
+
+Iris gazed at the floor. A little sound as of consternation had passed
+her lips, but she made no attempt to console the victim of destiny who
+sat with bowed head before her. After a brief silence, Lashmar told of
+the will as it concerned Constance Bride, insisting on the fact that
+she was a mere trustee of the wealth bequeathed to her. With a
+humorously doleful smile, he spoke of Lady Ogram's promise to defray
+his election expenses, and added that Miss Bride, in virtue of her
+trusteeship, would carry out this wish. Another exclamation sounded
+from the listener, this time one of joy.
+
+"Well, that's something! I suppose the expenses are heavy, aren't they?"
+
+"Oh, not very. But what's the use? Of course I withdraw."
+
+He let his hand fall despondently. Again there was silence.
+
+"And that is why you thought of taking poison?" asked Iris, with a
+quick glance at his lowering visage.
+
+"Isn't it a good reason? All is over with me. If Lady Ogram had lived
+to make her new will, I should have been provided for. Now I am
+penniless and hopeless."
+
+"But, if she had lived, you would have had to marry Miss Bride."
+
+Dyce made a sorrowful gesture.
+
+"No. She would never have consented, even if I could have brought
+myself to such a sacrifice. In any case, I was doomed."
+
+"But--"
+
+Iris paused, biting her lip.
+
+"You were going to say?"
+
+"Only--that I suppose you would have been willing to marry that girl,
+the niece."
+
+"I will answer you frankly." He spoke in the softest tone and his look
+had a touching candour. "You, better than anyone, know the nature of my
+ambition. You know it is not merely personal. One doesn't like to talk
+grandiloquently, but, alone with you, there is no harm in saying that I
+have a message for our time. We have reached a point in social and
+political evolution where all the advance of modern life seems to be
+imperilled by the growing preponderance of the multitude. Our need is
+of men who are born to guide and rule, and I feel myself one of these.
+But what can I do as long as I am penniless? And so I answer you
+frankly: yes, if May Tomalin had inherited Lady Ogram's wealth, I
+should have _felt it my duly_ to marry her."
+
+Iris listened without a smile. Lashmar had never spoken with a more
+convincing show of earnestness.
+
+"What is she going to do?" asked the troubled little woman, her eyes
+cast down.
+
+Dyce told all that he knew of May's position. He was then questioned as
+to the state of things political at Hollingford: his replies were at
+once sanguine and disconsolate.
+
+"Well," he said at length, "I have done my best, but fortune is against
+me. In coming to see you, I discharged what I felt to be a duty. Let me
+again thank you for your generous kindness. Now I must work, work--"
+
+He stood an image of noble sadness, of magnanimity at issue with cruel
+fate. Iris glanced timidly at him; her panting showed that she wished
+to speak, but could not. He offered his hand; Iris took it, but only
+for an instant.
+
+"I want you to tell me something else," broke from her lips.
+
+"I will tell you anything."
+
+"Are you in love with that girl--Miss Tomalin?"
+
+With sorrowful dignity, he shook his head; with proud
+self-consciousness, he smiled.
+
+"Nor with Miss Bride?"
+
+"I think of her exactly as if she were a man."
+
+"If I told you that I very much wished you to do something, would you
+care to do it?"
+
+"Your wish is for me a command," Dyce answered gently. "If it were not,
+I should be grossly ungrateful."
+
+"Then promise to go through with the election. Your expenses are
+provided for. If you win, I am _sure_ some way can be found of
+providing you with an income--I am _sure_ it can!"
+
+"It shall be as you wish," said Lashmar, seeming to speak with a
+resolute cheerfulness. "I will return to Hollingford by the first train
+to-morrow."
+
+They talked for a few minutes more. Lashmar mentioned where he was
+going to pass the night. He promised to resume their long-interrupted
+correspondence, and to let his friend have frequent reports from
+Hollingford. Then they shook hands, and parted silently.
+
+After dinner, Dyce strayed shorewards. He walked down to the little
+harbour, and out on to the jetty. A clouded sky had brought night fast
+upon sunset; green and red lamps shone from the lighthouse at the jetty
+head, and the wash of the rising tide sounded in darkness on either
+hand. Not many people had chosen this spot for their evening walk, but,
+as he drew near to the lighthouse, he saw the figure of a woman against
+the grey obscurity; she was watching a steamboat slowly making its way
+through the harbour mouth. He advanced, and at the sound of his nearing
+step the figure faced to him. There was just light enough to enable him
+to recognise Iris.
+
+"You oughtn't to be here alone," he said.
+
+"Oh, why not?" she replied with a laugh. "I'm old enough to take care
+of myself."
+
+The wind had begun to moan; waves tide-borne against the jetty made a
+hollow booming, and at moments scattered spray.
+
+"How black it is to-night!" Iris added. "It will rain. There! I felt a
+spot."
+
+"Only a splash of sea-water, I think," replied Lashmar, standing close
+beside her.
+
+Both gazed at the dark vast of sea and sky. A pair of ramblers
+approached them; a young man and a girl, talking loudly the tongue of
+lower London.
+
+"I know a young lady," sounded in the feminine voice, "as 'as a keeper
+set with a di'mond and a hamethys--lovely!"
+
+"Come away," said Dyce. "What a hateful place this is! How can you bear
+to be among such brutes?"
+
+Iris moved on by him, but said nothing.
+
+"I felt ashamed," he added, "to find you with people like the Barkers.
+Do you mean to say they don't disgust you?"
+
+"They are not so bad as that," Iris weakly protested. "But you mustn't
+think I regard them as intimate friends. It's only that--I've been
+rather lonely lately. Len away at school--and several things--"
+
+"Yes, yes, I understand. But they're no company for you. Do get away as
+soon as possible."
+
+Another couple went by them talking loudly the same vernacular.
+
+"If I put a book down for a day," said the young woman, "I forget all
+I've read. I've a hawful bad memory for readin'."
+
+"How I loathe that class!" Lashmar exclaimed. "I never came to this
+part of the coast, because I knew it was defiled by them. For heaven's
+sake, get away t Go to some place where your ears won't be perpetually
+outraged. I can't bear to think of leaving you here."
+
+"I'll go as soon as ever I can--I promise you," murmured Iris. "There!
+It really is beginning to rain. We must walk quickly."
+
+"Will you take my arm?"
+
+She did so, and they hurried on.
+
+"That's the democracy," said Lashmar. "Those are the people for whom we
+are told that the world exists. They get money, and it gives them
+power. Meanwhile, the true leaders of mankind, as often as not,
+struggle through their lives in poverty and neglect."
+
+Iris's voice sounded timidly.
+
+"You would feel it of no use to have just enough for independence?"
+
+"For the present," he replied, "it would be all I ask. But I might just
+as well ask for ten thousand a year."
+
+The rain was beating upon them. During the ascent to Sunrise Terrace,
+neither spoke a word. At the door of her lodgings, Iris looked into her
+companion's face, and said in a tremulous voice:
+
+"I am sure you will be elected! I'm certain of it!"
+
+Dyce laughed, pressed her hand, and, as the door opened, walked away
+through the storm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+Lord Dymchurch went down into Somerset. His younger sister was in a
+worse state of health than he had been led to suppose; there could be
+no thought of removing her from home. A day or two later, her malady
+took a hopeless turn, and by the end of the week she was dead.
+
+A month after this, the surviving daughter of the house, seeking solace
+in the ancient faith to which she had long inclined, joined a religious
+community. Dymchurch was left alone.
+
+Since his abrupt departure from Rivenoak, he had lived a silent life,
+spending the greater part of every day in solitude. Grief was not
+sufficient to account for the heaviness and muteness which had fallen
+upon him, or for the sudden change by which his youthful-looking
+countenance had become that of a middle-aged man. He seemed to shrink
+before eyes that regarded him, however kind their expression; one might
+have thought that some secret shame was harassing his mind. He himself,
+indeed, would have used no other word to describe the ill under which
+he suffered. Looking back on that strange episode of his life which
+began with his introduction to Mrs. Toplady and ended in the park at
+Rivenoak, he was stung almost beyond endurance by a sense of
+ignominious folly. On his lonely walks, and in the silence of sleepless
+nights, he often gesticulated and groaned like a man in pain. His
+nerves became so shaken that at times he could hardly raise a glass or
+cup to his lips without spilling the contents. Poverty and loneliness
+he had known, and had learnt to bear them with equanimity; for the
+first time he was tasting humiliation.
+
+Incessantly be reviewed the stages of his foolishness and, as he deemed
+it, of his dishonour. But he had lost the power to understand that
+phantasm of himself which pranked so grotesquely in the retrospect. Was
+it true that he had reasoned and taken deliberate step after step in
+the wooing of Lady Ogram's niece? Might he not urge in his excuse, to
+cloak him from his own and the world's contempt, some unsuspected
+calenture, for which, had he known, he ought to have taken medical
+advice? When, in self-chastisement, he tried to summon before his
+mind's eye the image of May Tomalin, he found it quite impossible; the
+face no longer existed for him; the voice was as utterly forgotten as
+any he might have chanced to hear for a few minutes on that fatal
+evening in Pont Street. And this was what he had seen as an object of
+romantic tenderness--this vaporous nothing, this glimmer in a dazed eye!
+
+Calm moments brought a saner self-reproach. "I simply yielded to the
+common man's common temptation. I am poor, and it was wealth that
+dazzled and lured me. Pride would explain more subtly; that is but a
+new ground of shame. I felt a prey to the vulgarest and basest passion;
+better to burn that truth into my mind, and to make the brand a
+lifelong warning. I shall the sooner lift up my head again."
+
+He seemed to palliate his act by remembering that he wished to benefit
+his sisters. Neither of them--the poor dead girl, and she who lived
+only for self-forgetfulness--would have been happier at the cost of his
+disgrace. How well it was, indeed, that he had been saved from that
+debasement in their eyes.
+
+He lived on in the silent house, quite alone and desiring no
+companionship. Few letters came for him, and he rarely saw a newspaper.
+After a while he was able to forget himself in the reading of books
+which tranquillised his thought, and held him far from the noises of
+the passing world. So sequestered was the grey old house that he could
+go forth when he chose into lanes and meadows without fear of
+encountering anyone who would disturb his meditation and his enjoyment
+of nature's beauty. Through the mellow days of the declining summer, he
+lived amid trees and flowers, slowly recovering health and peace in
+places where a bird's note, or the ripple of a stream, or the sighing
+of the wind, were the only sounds under the ever-changing sky.
+
+His thoughts were often of death, but not on that account gloomy.
+Reading in his Marcus Aurelius, he said to himself that the Stoic
+Emperor must, after all, have regarded death with some fear: else, why
+speak of it so persistently, and with such marshalling of arguments to
+prove it no matter for dread? Dymchurch never wished to shorten his
+life, yet, without other logic than that of a quiet heart, came to
+think more than resignedly of the end towards which he moved. He was
+the last of his family, and no child would ever bear his name. Without
+bitterness, he approved this extinction of a line which seemed to have
+outlived its natural energies. He, at all events, would bear no
+responsibility for suffering or wrongdoing in the days to come.
+
+The things which had so much occupied him during the last year or two,
+the state of the time, its perils and its needs, were now but seldom in
+his mind: he felt himself ripening to that "wise passiveness," which,
+through all his intellectual disquiet, he had regarded as the
+unattainable ideal. When, as a very young man, he exercised himself in
+versifying, the model he more or less consciously kept in view was
+Matthew Arnold; it amused him now to recall certain of the compositions
+he had once been rather proud of, and to recognise how closely he had
+trodden in Arnold's footprints; at the same time, he felt glad that the
+aspiration of his youth seemed likely to become the settled principle
+of his maturity. Nowadays he gave much of his thought to Wordsworth,
+content to study without the desire of imitating. Whether he could _do_
+anything, whether he could bear witness in any open way to what he held
+the truth, must still remain uncertain; sure it was that a profound
+distrust of himself in every practical direction, a very humble sense
+of follies committed and dangers barely escaped, would for a long time
+make him a silent and solitary man. He hoped that some way might be
+shown him, some modest yet clear way, by following which he would live
+not wholly to himself; but he had done for ever with schemes of social
+regeneration, with political theories, with all high-sounding words and
+phrases. It might well prove that the work appointed him was simply to
+live as an honest man. Was that so easy, or such a little thing?
+
+Walking one day a mile or two from home, in one of those high-bowered
+Somerset lanes which are unsurpassed for rural loveliness, he came
+within sight of a little cottage, which stood apart from a hamlet
+hidden beyond a near turning of the road. Before it moved a man,
+white-headed, back-bent, so crippled by some ailment that he tottered
+slowly and painfully with the aid of two sticks. Just as Dymchurch drew
+near, the old fellow accidentally let fall his pipe, which he had been
+smoking as he hobbled along. For him this incident was a disaster; he
+stared down helplessly at the pipe and the little curl of smoke which
+rose from it, utterly unable to stoop for its recovery. Dymchurch,
+seeing the state of things, at once stepped to his assistance.
+
+"I thank you, sir, I thank you," said the hobbler, with pleasant
+frankness. "A man isn't much use when he can't even keep his pipe in
+his mouth, to say nothing of picking it up when it drops; what do _you_
+think, sir?"
+
+Dymchurch talked with him. The man had spent his life as a gardener,
+and now for a couple of years, invalided by age and rheumatism, had
+lived in this cottage on a pension. His daughter, a widow, dwelt with
+him, but was away working nearly the whole of the day. He got along
+very well, but one thing there was that grieved him, the state of his
+little garden. Through the early summer he had been able to look after
+it as usual, pottering among the flowers and the vegetables for an hour
+or two each day; but there came rainy weather, and with it one of his
+attacks, and the garden was now so overgrown with weeds that it "hurt
+his eyes," it really did, to look that way. The daughter dug potatoes
+and gathered beans as they were wanted, but she had neither time nor
+strength to do more.
+
+Interested in a difficulty such as he had never imagined, Dymchurch
+went up to the garden-wall, and viewed the state of things. Indeed, it
+was deplorable. Thistles, docks, nettles, wild growths innumerable,
+were choking the flowers in which the old man so delighted. But the
+garden was such a small one that little trouble and time would be
+needed to put it in order.
+
+"Will you let me do it for you?" he asked, good-naturedly. "It's just
+the kind of job I should like."
+
+"You, sir!" cried the old fellow, all but again losing his pipe in
+astonishment. "Ho, ho! That's a joke indeed!"
+
+Without another word, Dymchurch opened the wicket, flung off his coat,
+and got to work. He laboured for more than an hour, the old man leaning
+on the wall and regarding him with half-ashamed, half-amused
+countenance. They did not talk much, but, when he had begun to perspire
+freely, Dymchurch looked at his companion, and said:
+
+"Now here's a thing I never thought of. Neglect your garden for a few
+weeks, and it becomes a wilderness; nature conquers it back again.
+Think what that means; how all the cultivated places of the earth are
+kept for men only by ceaseless fighting with nature, year in, year out."
+
+"And that's true, sir, that's true. I've thought of it sometimes, but
+then I'm a gardener, you see, and it's my business, as you may say, to
+have such thoughts."
+
+"It's every man's business," returned Dymchurch, supporting himself on
+his hoe, and viewing the uprooted weeds. "I never realised as in this
+half-hour at the cost of what incessant labour the earth is kept at
+man's service. If I have done you a good turn, you have done me a
+better."
+
+And he hoed vigorously at a root of dandelion.
+
+Not for years had he felt so well in body and mind as during his walk
+home. There, there was the thought for which he had been obscurely
+groping! What were volumes of metaphysics and of sociology to the man
+who had heard this one little truth whispered from the upturned mould?
+Henceforth he knew _why_ he was living, and _how_ it behooved him to
+live. Let theories and poesies follow if they would: for him, the prime
+duty was that nearest to him, to strive his best that the little corner
+of earth which he called his own should yield food for man. At this
+moment there lay upon his table letters informing him of the
+unsatisfactory state of his Kentish farm; the tenant was doing badly in
+every sense of the word, and would willingly escape from his lease if
+opportunity were given. Very well; the man should go.
+
+"I will live there myself. I will get some practical man to live with
+me, until I understand farming. For profit, I don't care; all will be
+well if I keep myself alive and furnish food for a certain number of
+other mortals. This is the work ready to my hand. No preaching, no
+theorising, no trying to prove that the earth should be parcelled out
+and every man turn delver. I will cultivate this ground because it is
+mine, and because no other way offers of living as a man should--taking
+some part, however humble, in the eternal strife with nature."
+
+The idea had before now suggested itself to him, but not as the result
+of a living conviction. If he had then turned to farming, it would have
+been as an experiment in life; more or less vague reflections on the
+needs of the time would have seemed to justify him. Now he was
+indifferent to all "questions" save that prime solicitude of the human
+race, how to hold its own against the hostile forces everywhere leagued
+against it. Life was a perpetual struggle, and, let dreamers say what
+they might, could never be anything else; he, for one, perceived no
+right that he had to claim exemption from the doom of labour. Had he
+felt an impulse to any other kind of work, well and good, he would have
+turned to it; but nothing whatever called to him with imperative voice
+save this task of tilling his own acres. It might not always satisfy
+him; he took no vow of one sole vocation; he had no desire to let his
+mind rust whilst his hands grew horny. Enough that for the present he
+had an aim which he saw as a reality.
+
+On his return home, he found a London letter awaiting him. It was with
+a nervous shrug that he saw the writing of Mrs. Toplady. Addressing him
+at his club, she invited him to dine on an evening a fortnight hence,
+if he chanced to be in town.
+
+"You heard, of course," she added, "of the defeat of Mr. Lashmar at
+Hollingford. It seems to have been inevitable."
+
+So Lashmar had been defeated. The Hollingford election interested
+Dymchurch so little that he had never inquired as to its result; in
+truth, he had forgotten all about it.
+
+"I fear Mr. Lashmar is rather disappointing. Rumour says that the
+philosophical theory of life and government which he put before us as
+original was taken word for word from a French book which he took for
+granted no one would have read. I hope this is not true; it has a very
+unpleasant sound."
+
+Quite as unpleasant, thought Dymchurch, was Mrs. Toplady's zeal in
+spreading the rumour. He found no difficulty in crediting it. The
+bio-sociological theory had occupied his thoughts for a time, and, in
+reflecting upon it now, he found it as plausible as any other; but it
+had no more power to interest him. Lashmar, perhaps, was mere sophist,
+charlatan, an unscrupulous journalist who talked instead of writing.
+Words, words! How sick he was of the universal babble! The time had
+taken for its motto that counsel of Mephisto: _Vor allem haltet euch an
+Worte_! And how many of these loud talkers believed the words they
+uttered, or had found them in their own minds?
+
+And how many preachers of Socialism--in this, that or the other form,
+had in truth the socialistic spirit? Lashmar, with his emphasis on the
+obligation of social service--was he not simply an ambitious struggler
+and intriguer, careless of everything but his own advancement? Probably
+enough. And, on the whole, was there ever an age so rank with
+individualism as this of ours, which chatters ceaselessly of
+self-subdual to the common cause?
+
+"I, too," thus he thought, "am as much an individualist as the others.
+If I said that I cared a rap for mankind at large, I should be
+phrase-making. Only, thank heaven! I don't care to advertise myself, I
+don't care to make money. I ask only to be left alone, and to satisfy
+in quiet my sense of self-respect."
+
+On the morrow, he was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+"When you receive this letter, you will have already seen the result. I
+knew how it would be, but tried to hope because you were hoping. My
+poll is better than that of the last Liberal candidate, but Hollingford
+remains a Tory stronghold. Shall I come to see you? I am worn out,
+utterly exhausted, and can scarcely hold the pen. Perhaps a few days at
+the sea-side would do me good, but what right have I to idle? If you
+would like me to come, please wire to Alverholme Rectory. Possibly you
+would rather I didn't bring my gloom, now you have Len with you and are
+enjoying yourself. Above all, be quite frank. If you are too
+disappointed to care to see me, in heaven's name, say so! You needn't
+fear its effect upon me. I should be glad to have done with the world,
+but I have duties to discharge. I wish you could have heard my last
+speech, there were good things in it. You shall see my address of
+thanks to those who voted for me; I must try to get it widely
+circulated, for, as you know, it has more than local importance.
+Breakspeare, good fellow, says that I have a great career before me; I
+grin, and can't tell him the squalid truth. There are many things I
+should like to speak about; my brain is feverishly active. I must try
+to rest; another twenty-four hours of this strain, and the results
+would be serious. In any case, wire to me--yes or no. If it is _no_, I
+shall say 'so be it,' and begin at once to look out for some way of
+earning bread and cheese. We shall be friends all the same."
+
+Mrs. Woolstan was at Eastbourne. Having read Lashmar's letter, she
+brooded for a few minutes, then betook herself to the post-office, and
+telegraphed "Come at once." A few hours later she received a telegram
+informing her that Lashmar would reach Eastbourne at eleven o'clock on
+the next morning. At that hour, she waited in her lodgings on the
+sea-front. A cab drove up; Lashmar was shown into the room.
+
+He looked, indeed, much the worse for his agitations. His hand was hot;
+he moved languidly, and seemed to be too tired to utter more than a few
+words.
+
+"Are you alone?"
+
+"Quite. Len is down on the shore, and won't be back till half-past one."
+
+"Would you--mind--if I lay down--on the sofa?"
+
+"Of course not," replied Iris, regarding him anxiously. "You're not
+ill, I hope?"
+
+He took her hand, and pressed it against his forehead, with the most
+melancholy of smiles. Having dropped onto the couch, he beckoned Iris
+to take a chair beside him.
+
+"What can I get for you?" she asked. "You must have some refreshment--"
+
+"Sleep, sleep!" he moaned musically. "If I could but sleep a
+little!--But I have so much to say. Don't fuss; you know how I hate
+fuss.  No, no, I don't want anything, I assure you. But I haven't slept
+for a week Give me your hand. How glad I am to see you again! So you
+still have faith in me? You don't despise me?"
+
+"What nonsense!" said Iris, allowing him to hold her hand against his
+breast as he lay motionless, his eyes turned to the ceiling. "You must
+try again, that's all. At Hollingford, it was evidently hopeless."
+
+"Yes. I made a mistake. If I could have stood as a Conservative, I
+should have carried all before me. It was Lady Ogram's quarrel with
+Robb which committed me to the other side."
+
+Iris was silent, panting a little as if she suppressed words which had
+risen to her lips. He turned his head to look at her.
+
+"Of course you understand that party names haven't the least meaning
+for me. By necessity, I wear a ticket, but it's a matter of total
+indifference to me what name it bears. My object has nothing to do with
+party politics. But for Lady Ogram's squabbles, I should at this moment
+be Member for Hollingford."
+
+"But would it be possible?" asked Iris, with a flutter, "to call
+yourself a Conservative next time?"
+
+"I have been thinking about that." He spoke absently, his eyes still
+upwards. "It is pretty certain that the Conservative side gives me more
+chance. It enrages me to think how I should have triumphed at
+Hollingford! I could have roused the place to such enthusiasm as it
+never knew! The great mistake of my life--but what choice had I? Lady
+Ogram was fatal to me."
+
+He groaned, and let his eyelids droop.
+
+"It is possible that, at the general election, a Liberal constituency
+may invite me. In that case, of course--" He broke off with a weary
+wave of the band. "But what's the use of thinking about it? I must look
+for work. Do you know, I have thoughts of going to New Zealand."
+
+"Oh! That's nonsense!"
+
+"Try to realise my position." He raised himself on his elbow. "After my
+life of the last few months, will it be very enjoyable to become a
+subordinate, to work for wages, to sink into obscurity? Does it seem to
+you natural? Do you think I shall be able to bear it?"
+
+He had begun to quiver with excitement. As Iris kept silence, he rose
+to a sitting position, and continued more vehemently.
+
+"Don't you understand that death would be preferable, a thousand times?
+Imagine me--_me_ at the beck and call of paltry every-day people! Does
+it seem to you fitting that I should pay by such degradation for one or
+two trivial errors? How I shall bear it, I don't know; but bear it I
+must. I keep reminding myself that I am not a free man. If once I could
+pay my debt--"
+
+"Oh, _don't_ talk about that!" exclaimed Iris, on a note of distress.
+"What do I care about the money?"
+
+"No, but _I_ care about my honour!" cried Lashmar. "If I had won the
+election, all would have been different; my career would have begun. Do
+you know what I should have done in that case? I should have come to
+you, and have said: 'I am a Member of Parliament. It is to you that I
+owe this, more than to anyone else. Will you do yet more for me? Will
+you be my companion in the life upon which I am entering--share all my
+hopes--help me to conquer?'--_That_ is what I meant to do. But I am
+beaten, and I can only ask you to have patience with your miserable
+debtor."
+
+He let his face fall onto the head of the sofa, and shook with emotion.
+There was a short silence, then Iris, her cheeks flushing, lightly
+touched his hair. At once he looked up, gazed into her face.
+
+"What! You still believe in me? Enough for _that_?"
+
+"Yes," replied Iris, her eyes down, and her bosom fluttering. "Enough
+for that."
+
+"Ah! But be careful--think!" He looked at her with impressive sadness.
+"Your friends will tell you that you are marrying a penniless
+adventurer. Have you the courage to face all that kind of thing?"
+
+"I know you better than my friends do," replied Iris, taking in both
+her own the hand he held to her. "My fear," she added, again dropping
+her eyes and fluttering, "is that you will some day repent."
+
+"Never! Never! It would be the blackest ingratitude!"
+
+He spoke so fervently that the freckled face became rosy with joy. It
+was so near to his, that the man in him claimed warmer tribute, and
+Iris grew rosier still.
+
+"Haven't you always loved me a little?" she whispered.
+
+"If I had only known it!" answered Lashmar, the victor's smile softened
+with self-reproach. "My ambition has much to answer for. Forgive me,
+Iris."
+
+"There's something else I must say, dear," she murmured. "After all, I
+have so little--and there is Len, you know--"
+
+"Why, of course. Do you imagine I should wish to rob him?"
+
+"No, no, no!" she panted. "But it is such a small income, after all.
+I'm afraid we ought to--to be careful, at first--"
+
+"Of course we must. We shall live as simply as possible. And then, you
+mustn't suppose that I shall never earn money. It's only waiting for
+one's opportunity."
+
+A silence fell between them. Lashmar's amorous countenance had an
+under-note of thoughtfulness; Iris, smiling blissfully, none the less
+reflected.
+
+"What are you thinking of?" he asked, gently.
+
+"Only how happy I am. I haven't the slightest fear. I know you have
+great things before you. Of course we must make use of our friends. May
+I write to Mrs. Toplady, and tell her?"
+
+She spoke without looking at him, and so was spared the interpretation
+of muscular twitches.
+
+"Certainly. Do you know whether she is still in London?"
+
+"I don't know, but probably not. Don't you think she may be very useful
+to us? I have always found her very nice and kind, and she knows such
+hosts of people."
+
+Lashmar had his own thoughts about Mrs. Toplady, but the advantage of
+her friendship was undeniable. Happily, he had put it out of her power
+to injure him by any revelations she might make concerning May Tomalin;
+his avowal to Iris that May had been undisguisedly in love with him
+would suffice to explain anything she might hear about the tragi-comedy
+at Rivenoak. Whether the lady of Pont Street could be depended upon for
+genuine good will, was a question that must remain unsettled until he
+had seen her again. She had bidden him to call upon her, at all events,
+and plainly it would be advisable to do so as soon as possible.
+
+"Yes," he answered, reflectively. "She is a person to be reckoned with.
+It's possible her advice might be worth something in the difficulty
+about Liberal or Conservative. She is intelligent enough, I think, to
+understand me on that point. Yes, you might write to her at once. If I
+were you, I would speak quite frankly. You know her well enough for
+that, don't you?"
+
+"Frankly? How?"
+
+"Oh, I mean that you might say we have really been fond of each other
+for a long time--and that--well, that fate has brought us together in
+spite of everything that kind of thing, you know."
+
+"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Iris. "That's just what I should like to say."
+
+Their talk grew calmly practical; the last half hour of it was
+concerned with pecuniary detail. Her eye on the clock--for Leonard was
+sure to enter very soon--Mrs. Woolstan gave a full account of her
+income, enumerating the securities which were in the hands of her
+trustee, Mr. Wrybolt, and those which she had under her own control. In
+the event of her re-marriage, Mr. Wrybolt's responsibility came to an
+end, a circumstance very pleasing to Lashmar. When the schoolboy
+interrupted them, their conversation was by no means finished. After a
+cheerful lunch, they resumed it on the sea-shore, Leonard being sent
+off to amuse himself as he would. By tea-time, it had been agreed that
+Lashmar should at once give up his expensive London rooms, and come
+down to Eastbourne, to recruit his health and enjoy Iris's society,
+until Leonard went back to school. The house at West Hampstead should
+be their home for the first twelvemonth; by that time they would see
+how things were going, and be able to make plans. Early in the evening,
+Lashmar took a train for town.
+
+At his lodgings he found several letters; two of them were important.
+Constance Bride's handwriting indicated the envelope to be first torn
+open. She wrote concisely and with her usual clearness. The ill news
+from Hollingford had been a grief to her, but it was very satisfactory
+to see that Lashmar had reduced the Conservative majority. "You have
+gained some very useful experience, which I hope you may before long
+have an opportunity of using. Please send me a statement of the
+election expenses as soon as you can; you remember the understanding
+between us in that matter. I am soon leaving England for a few weeks,
+but a letter directed as above will always reach me." The address
+referred to was that of a well-known Society for Social Reform in the
+west of London.
+
+His hand tremulous with the anger which this curt epistle had excited,
+Lashmar broke an envelope on the flap of which was printed in red
+letters the Pont Street address so familiar to him. Mrs. Toplady wrote
+more at length; she took the trouble to express her disappointment at
+the result of the Hollingford election in courteously rounded
+terms--"Our dear old friend of Rivenoak would have found some apt
+phrase to describe such a man as Butterworth. Wasn't she good at that
+kind of thing! How I have laughed to hear her talk of the late lamented
+Robb! You have the satisfaction of knowing that you got more votes than
+any Liberal has done at Hollingford for many years so the papers tell
+me. In fact, you have made a very good start indeed, and I am sure the
+eye of the party will be on you."
+
+Lashmar glowed. He had not expected such words from Mrs. Toplady. After
+all, Iris had given him good advice. Who knew but this woman might be
+more useful to him than Lady Ogram had been?
+
+"Do you care for news of Miss Tomalin?" the latter continued. "After
+spending two or three days with me, she grew restless, and took rooms
+for herself. I am afraid, to tell you the truth, that she is a little
+disappointing; it is perhaps quite as well that a certain romantic
+affair which was confided to me came to nothing. A week after she left
+my house, I received a very stiff (not to say impertinent) letter, in
+which the young lady informed me that she was about to marry a Mr.
+Yabsley of Northampton, a man (to quote her words) 'of the highest
+powers and with a brilliant future already assured to him.' This seemed
+to me, I confess, a little sudden, but at least it had the merit of
+being amusing. Perhaps I may venture to hope that you are already quite
+consoled? Remember me, I beg, to Miss Bride. Are you likely to be in
+this part of the world during the holidays? If anywhere near, do come
+and see me, and we will talk about that striking philosophical theory
+of yours."
+
+Lashmar bit his lip. All at once he saw Mrs. Toplady's smile, and it
+troubled him. None the less did he ponder her letter, re-reading it
+several times. Presently he mused with uneasiness on the fact that Iris
+might even now be writing to Mrs. Toplady. Would her interest in
+him--she seemed indeed to be genuinely interested survive the
+announcement that, after all, he was not going to marry Constance
+Bride, but had declined upon an insignificant little widow with a few
+hundreds a year? Was not this upshot of his adventures too beggarly?
+Had Mrs. Toplady been within easy reach, he would have gone to see her;
+but she wrote from the north of Scotland. He could only await the
+result of Iris's letter.
+
+To the news concerning May Tomalin, he gave scarcely a thought. Mr.
+Yabsley, of Northampton!
+
+Exceeding weariness sank him for a few hours in sleep; but before dawn
+he was tossing again on the waves of miserable doubt. Why had he not
+waited a little before going to see Iris? If only he had received this
+letter of Mrs. Toplady in time, it would have checked him--or so he
+thought. Was it the malice of fate which had ordained that, on his way
+to Eastbourne, he should not have troubled to look in at his lodgings?
+How many such wretched accidents he could recall! Was he, instead of
+being fortune's favourite, simply a poor devil hunted by ill luck,
+doomed to lose every chance? Why not he as well as another? Such men
+abound.
+
+He had not yet taken the irretrievable step. Until he was actually
+married, a hope remained to him. He might postpone the fatal day; his
+purse was not yet empty. Why should he be too strict in the report of
+his election expenses to Constance? Every pound in his pocket meant a
+prolongation of liberty, a new horizon of the possible--
+
+Two days later he was back again at Eastbourne. He had taken a cheap
+little lodging, and yielded himself to sea-side indolence. A week
+passed, then Iris heard from Mrs. Toplady. She did not at once show
+Lashmar the letter; she awaited a moment when he was lulled by physical
+comfort into a facile and sanguine humour.
+
+"Mrs. Toplady must have been in a hurry when she wrote this," was her
+remark, as, with seeming carelessness, she produced the letter. "Of
+course she has an enormous correspondence. I shall hear again from her,
+no doubt, before long."
+
+One side only of the note-paper was covered. In formal phrase, the
+writer said that she was glad to hear of her friend's engagement, and
+wished her all happiness. Not a word about their future meeting; not an
+allusion to Lashmar's prospects. If Iris had announced her coming
+marriage with some poor clerk, Mrs. Toplady could not have written
+less effusively.
+
+"There's an end of her interest in _me_," Dyce remarked, with a nervous
+shrug.
+
+Iris protested, and did her best to put another aspect on the matter,
+but without success. For twenty-four hours, Lashmar kept away from her;
+she, offended, tried to disregard his absence, but at length sped to
+make inquiries, fearful lest he should be driven to despair. At the
+murky end of a wet evening, they paced the esplanade together.
+
+"You don't love me," said Iris, on a sob.
+
+"It is because I love you," he replied, glooming, "that I can't bear to
+think of you married to such a luckless fellow as I am."
+
+"Dearest!" she whispered. "Am I ruining you? Do you wish to be free
+again? Tell me the truth; I think I can bear it."
+
+The next day saw them rambling in sunshine, Lashmar amorous and
+resigned, Iris flutteringly hopeful. And with such alternations did the
+holiday go by. When Leonard returned to school, their marriage was
+fixed for ten days later.
+
+Shortly before leaving Eastbourne, Iris had written to Mr. Wrybolt.
+Already they had corresponded on the subject of her marriage; this last
+letter, concerning a point of business which required immediate
+attention, remained without reply. Puzzled by her trustee's silence,
+Iris, soon after she reached home, went to see him at his City Office.
+She learnt that Mr. Wrybolt was out of town, but would certainly return
+in a day or two.
+
+Again she wrote. Again she waited in vain for a reply. On a dull
+afternoon near the end of September, as she sat thinking of Lashmar and
+resolutely seeing him in the glorified aspect dear to her heart and
+mind, the servant announced Mr. Barker. This was the athletic young man
+in whose company she had spent some time at Gorleston before Lashmar's
+coming. His business lay in the City; he knew Mr. Wrybolt, and through
+him had made Mrs. Woolstan's acquaintance. The face with which he
+entered the drawing-room portended something more than a friendly chat.
+Iris had at one time thought that this young man felt disposed to offer
+her marriage; was that his purpose now, and did it account for his odd
+look?
+
+"I want to ask you," Mr. Barker began, abruptly, "whether you know
+anything about Wrybolt? Have you heard from him lately?"
+
+Iris replied that she herself wished to hear of that gentleman, who did
+not answer her letters, and was said to be out of town.
+
+"That's so, is it?" exclaimed the young man, with a yet stranger look
+on his face. "You really have no idea where he is?"
+
+"None whatever. And I particularly want to see him."
+
+"So do I," said Mr. Barker, smiling grimly. "So do several people.
+You'll excuse me, I hope, Mrs. Woolstan. I knew he was a friend of
+yours, and thought you might perhaps know more about him than we did in
+the City. I mustn't stay."
+
+Iris stared at him as he rose. A vague alarm began to tremble in her
+mind.
+
+"You don't mean that anything's wrong?" she panted.
+
+"We'll hope not, but it looks queer."
+
+"Oh!" cried Iris. "He has money of mine. He is my trustee."
+
+"I know that. Please excuse me; I really mustn't stay."
+
+"Oh, but tell me, Mr. Barker!" She clutched at his coat sleeve. "Is my
+money in danger?"
+
+"I can't say, but you certainly ought to look after it. Get someone to
+make inquiries at once; that's my advice. I really must go."
+
+He disappeared, leaving Iris motionless in amazement and terror.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+The wedding was to be a very quiet one. Lashmar would have preferred
+the civil ceremony, at the table of the registrar, with musty casuals
+for witnesses; but Iris shrank from this. It must be at a church, and
+with a few friends looking on, or surely people would gossip. Had he
+been marrying an heiress, Dyce would have called for pomp and
+circumstance, with portraits in the fashion papers, and every form of
+advertisement which society has contrived. As it was, he desired to
+slink through the inevitable. He was ashamed; he was confounded; and
+only did not declare it. To the very eve of the wedding-day, his mind
+ferreted elusive hopes. Had men and gods utterly forsaken him? In
+solitude, he groaned and gnashed his teeth. And no deliverance came.
+
+Reaction made him at times the fervent lover, and these interludes
+supported Iris's courage. "Let it once be over!" she kept saying to
+herself. She trusted in her love and in her womanhood.
+
+"At all events," cried the bridegroom, "we needn't go through the
+foolery of running away to hide ourselves. It's only waste of money."
+
+But Iris pleaded for the honeymoon. People would think it so strange if
+they went straight from church to their home at West Hampstead. And
+would not a few autumn weeks of Devon be delightful? Again he yielded.
+
+The vicar of Alverholme and his wife, when satisfied that Dyce's
+betrothed was a respectable person, consented to be present at the
+marriage. Not easily did Mrs. Lashmar digest her bitter disappointment,
+which came so close upon that of Dyce's defeat at Hollingford; but she
+was a practical woman, and, in the state of things at Alverholme, six
+hundred a year seemed to her not altogether to be despised.
+
+"My fear was," she remarked one day to her husband, "that Dyce would be
+tempted to marry money. I respect him for the choice he has made; it
+shows character."
+
+The vicar just gave a glance of surprise, but said nothing. Every day
+made him an older man in look and bearing. His head was turning white.
+He had begun to mutter to himself as he walked about the parish. Not a
+man in England who worried more about his own affairs and those of the
+world.
+
+In an obscure lodging, Dyce awaited the day of destiny. One evening he
+went to dine at West Hampstead; though he was rather late, Iris had not
+yet come home, and she had left no message to explain her absence. He
+waited a quarter of an hour. When at length his betrothed came hurrying
+into the room, she wore so strange a countenance that Dyce could not
+but ask what had happened. Nothing, nothing--she declared. It was only
+that she had been obliged to hurry so, and was out of breath,
+and--and--. Whereupon she tottered to a chair, death-pale, all but
+fainting.
+
+"What the _devil_ is the matter with you?" cried Lashmar, whose
+over-strong nerves could not endure this kind of thing.
+
+His violence had an excellent effect. Iris recovered herself, and came
+towards him with hands extended.
+
+"It's nothing at all, dearest. I couldn't bear to keep you waiting, and
+fretted myself into a fever when I saw what time it was. Don't be angry
+with me, will you?"
+
+Dyce was satisfied. It seemed to him a very natural explanation; a
+caress put him into his gracious mood.
+
+"After all, you know," he said, "you're a very womanly woman. I think
+we shall have to give up pretending that you're not."
+
+"But I've given it up long since!" Iris exclaimed, with large eyes.
+"Didn't you know that?"
+
+"I'm not sure--" he laughed--"that I'm not glad of it."
+
+And they passed a much more tranquil evening than usual. Iris seemed
+tired; she sat with her head on Dyce's shoulder, thrilling when his
+lips touched her hair. He had assured her that her hair was
+beautiful--that he had always admired its hue of the autumn elm-leaf.
+Her face, too, he was beginning to find pretty, and seldom did he
+trouble to reflect that she was seven years older than he.
+
+Already he regarded this house as his own. His books had been
+transferred hither, and many of his other possessions. Very carefully
+had Iris put out of sight or got rid of, everything which could remind
+him of her former marriage. Certain things (portraits and the like)
+which must be preserved for Leonard's sake were locked away in the
+boy's room. Of course Lashmar had given her no presents; she, on the
+other hand, had been very busy in furnishing a study which should
+please him, buying the pictures and ornaments he liked, and many
+expensive books of which he said that he had need. Into this room Dyce
+was not allowed to peep; it waited as a surprise for him on the return
+from the honeymoon. Drawing-room and dining-room he trod as master, and
+often felt that, after all, a man could be very comfortable here for a
+year or two. A box of good cigars invited him after dinner. A womanly
+woman, the little mistress of the house; and, all things considered, he
+couldn't be sure that he wasn't glad of it.
+
+One more day only before that of the wedding. Dyce had been on the
+point of asking whether all the business with Wrybolt was
+satisfactorily settled; but delicacy withheld him. Really, there was
+nothing to do; Iris's money simply passed into her own hands on the
+event of her marriage. It would be time enough to talk of such things
+presently.
+
+They spent nearly all the last day together. Iris was in the extremity
+of nervousness; she looked as if she had not slept for two or three
+nights; often she hid her face against Dyce's shoulder, and shook as if
+sobbing, but no tears followed.
+
+"Do you love me?" she asked, again and again. "Do you really, really
+love me?"
+
+"But you know I do," Dyce answered, at length irritably. "How many
+times must I tell you? It's all very well to be womanly, but don't be
+womanish."
+
+"You're not sorry you're going to marry me?"
+
+"You're getting hysterical, and I can't stand that."
+
+Hysterical she became as soon as Lashmar had left her. One of the two
+servants, looking into the dressing-room before going to bed, saw her
+lying, half on the floor, half against the sofa, in a lamentable state.
+She wailed incoherent phrases.
+
+"I can't help it--too late--I can't, _can't_ help it oh! oh!"
+
+Unobserved, the domestic drew back, and went to gossip with her
+fellow-servant of this strange incident.
+
+The hours drove on. Lashmar found himself at the church, accompanied by
+his father, his mother, his old friend the Home Office clerk. They
+waited the bride's coming; she was five minutes late, ten minutes late;
+but came at last. With her were two ladies, kinsfolk of hers. Had Iris
+risen from a sick bed to go through this ceremony, she could not have
+shown a more disconcerting visage. But she held herself up before the
+altar. The book was opened; the words of fate were uttered; the golden
+circlet slipped onto her trembling hand; and Mrs. Dyce Lashmar passed
+forth upon her husband's arm to the carriage that awaited them.
+
+A week went by. They were staying at Dawlish, and Lashmar, who had
+quite come round to his wife's opinion on the subject of the honeymoon,
+cared not how long these days of contented indolence lulled his
+ambitious soul; at times he was even touched by the devotion which
+repaid his sacrifice. A certain timidity which clung to Iris, a
+tremulous solicitude which marked her behaviour to him, became her, he
+thought, very well indeed. Constance Bride was right; he could not have
+been thus at his ease with a woman capable of reading his thoughts, and
+of criticising them. He talked at large of his prospects, which took a
+hue from the halcyon sea and sky.
+
+One morning they had strolled along the cliffs, and in a sunny hollow
+they sat down to rest. Dyce took from his pocket a newspaper he had
+bought on coming forth.
+
+"Let us see what fools are doing," he said genially.
+
+Iris watched him with uneasy eye. The sight of a newspaper was dreadful
+to her: yet she always eagerly scanned those that came under her
+notice. Lying now on the dry turf, she was able to read one page whilst
+Dyce occupied himself with another. Of a sudden she began to shake;
+then a half-stifled cry escaped her.
+
+"What is it?" asked her husband, startled.
+
+"Oh, look, Dyce! Look at this!"
+
+She pointed him to a paragraph headed: "Disappearance of a City Man."
+When Lashmar had read it, he met his wife's anguished look with
+surprise and misgiving.
+
+"You've had a precious narrow escape. Of course this is nothing to
+_you_, now?"
+
+"Oh but I'm afraid it is--I'm afraid it is, Dyce--"
+
+"What do you mean? Didn't you get everything out of his hands?"
+
+"I thought it was safe--I left it till we were back at home--"
+
+Lashmar started to his feet, pale as death.
+
+"What? Then all your money is lost?"
+
+"Oh, surely not? How can it be? We must make inquiries at once--"
+
+"Inquiries? Inquiries enough have been made, you may depend upon it,
+before this got into the papers. Why, read! The fellow has bolted; the
+police are after him; he has robbed and swindled right and left. Do you
+imagine _your_ money has escaped his clutches?"
+
+They stood face to face.
+
+"Dear, don't be angry with me!" sounded from Iris in a choking voice.
+"I am not to blame--I couldn't help it--oh don't look at me like that,
+dear husband!"
+
+"But you have been outrageously careless! What right had you to expose
+us to this danger? Ass that I was ass, _ass_ that I was! I wanted to
+speak of it, and my cursed delicacy prevented me. What right had you to
+behave so idiotically?"
+
+He set off at a great speed towards Dawlish. Iris ran after him, caught
+his arm, clung to him.
+
+"Where are you going? You won't leave me?"
+
+"I'm going to London, of course," was his only reply, as he strode on.
+
+Running by his side, Iris told with broken breath of the offer of
+marriage she had received from Wrybolt not long ago. She understood now
+why he wished to marry her; no doubt he already found himself in grave
+difficulties, and saw this as a chance either of obtaining money, or of
+concealing a fraud he had already practised at her expense.
+
+"Why didn't you fell me that before?" cried Lashmar, savagely. "What
+right had you to keep it from me?"
+
+"I ought to have told you. Oh, do forgive me! Don't walk so quickly,
+Dyce! I haven't the strength to keep up with you.--You know that he
+hadn't everything--most fortunately not everything--"
+
+With an exclamation of wrathful contempt, the man pursued his way. Iris
+fell back; she tottered; she sank to her knee upon the grass, moaning,
+sobbing. Only when he was fifty yards ahead did Dyce pause and look
+back. Already she was running after him again. He turned, and walked
+less quickly. At length there was a touch upon his arm.
+
+"Dear--dear--don't you love me?" panted a scarce audible voice.
+
+"Don't be a greater idiot than you have been already," was his fierce
+reply. "I have to get to London, and look after your business; that's
+enough to think about just now."
+
+In less than an hour they had taken train. By early evening they
+reached Paddington Station, whence they set forth to call upon the
+person whom Iris mentioned as most likely to be able to inform them
+concerning Wrybolt. It was the athletic Mr. Barker, who dwelt with his
+parents at Highgate. An interview with this gentleman, who was caught
+at dinner, put an end to the faint hopes Lashmar had tried to
+entertain. Wrybolt, said Barker, was not a very interesting criminal;
+the frauds he had perpetrated were not great enough to make his case
+sensational; but there could be no shadow of doubt that he had turned
+his trusteeship to the best account.
+
+"He has nothing but his skin to pay with," added the young City man,
+"and I wouldn't give much for that. Don't distress yourself, Mrs.
+Lashmar; I know a lady who is let in worse than you--considerably
+worse."
+
+The newly-married couple made their way to West Hampstead. The servant
+who had been left in charge of the house did not conceal her surprise
+as she admitted them. It was nearly ten o'clock in the evening.
+
+"I suppose we must have something to eat," said Dyce, sullenly.
+
+"You must be very hungry," Iris answered, regarding him like a
+frightened but affectionate dog that eyes its master. "Jane shall get
+something at once."
+
+They sat down to such a supper as could be prepared at a moment's
+notice. By good fortune, a bottle of claret had been found, and,
+excepting one glass, which his wife thankfully swallowed, Lashmar drank
+it all. At an ordinary time, this excess would have laid him prostrate;
+in the present state of his nerves, it did him nothing but good; a
+healthier hue mantled on his cheeks, and he began to look furtively at
+Iris with eyes which had lost their evil expression. She, so exhausted
+that she could scarce support herself on the chair, timidly met these
+glances, but as yet no word was spoken.
+
+"Why haven't you eaten anything?" asked Dyce at length, breaking the
+silence with a voice which was almost natural.
+
+"I have, dear."
+
+"Yes, a bit of bread. Come, eat! You'll be ill if you don't."
+
+She tried to obey. Tears began to trickle down her face.
+
+"What's the use of going on like that?" Lashmar exclaimed, petulantly
+rather than in anger. "You're tired to death. If you really can't eat
+anything, better go to bed. We shall see how things look in the
+morning."
+
+Iris rose and came towards him.
+
+"Thank you, dear, for speaking so kindly. I don't deserve it."
+
+"Oh, we won't say anything about that," he replied, with an air of
+generosity. Then, laughing, "Aren't you going to show me the study?"
+
+"Dyce! I haven't the heart."
+
+She began to weep in earnest.
+
+"Nonsense! Let us go and look at it. I'll carry the lamp."
+
+They left the room, and Iris, struggling with her tears, led the way to
+the study door. As he entered Dyce gave an exclamation of pleasure. The
+little room was furnished and adorned very tastefully; hook-shelves,
+with all Lashmar's own books carefully arranged, and many new volumes
+added, made a pleasant show; a handsome writing-table and chair seemed
+to invite to penwork.
+
+"I could have done something here," Dyce remarked, with a nodding of
+the head.
+
+Iris came nearer. Timidly she laid a hand upon his shoulder;
+appealingly she gazed into his face.
+
+"Dear"--it was a just audible whisper--"you are so clever--you are so
+far above ordinary men--"
+
+Lashmar smiled. His arm fell lightly about her waist. "We have still
+nearly two hundred pounds a year," the whisper continued. "There's
+Len--but I must take him from school--"
+
+"Pooh! We'll talk about that."
+
+A cry of gratitude escaped her.
+
+"Dyce! How good you are! How bravely you hear it, my own dear husband.
+I'll do anything, anything! We needn't have a servant. I'll work--I
+don't care anything if you still love me. Say you still love me!"
+
+He kissed her hair.
+
+"It's certain I don't hate you.--Well, we'll see how things look
+to-morrow. Who knows? It may be the real beginning of my career!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Our Friend the Charlatan, by George Gissing
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR FRIEND THE CHARLATAN ***
+
+***** This file should be named 4304.txt or 4304.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/0/4304/
+
+Produced by Charles Aldarondo.  HTML version by Al Haines.
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need 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 https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+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.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  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 https://pglaf.org
+
+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 https://pglaf.org
+
+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 including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.