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diff --git a/6415.txt b/6415.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d99efc8 --- /dev/null +++ b/6415.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11837 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of This Freedom, by A. S. M. Hutchinson + +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: This Freedom + +Author: A. S. M. Hutchinson + + +Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6415] +This file was first posted on December 8, 2002 +Last Updated: July 4, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THIS FREEDOM *** + + + + +Produced by Carrie Fellman and Charles Aldarondo + + + + + + + +THIS FREEDOM + +By A. S. M. Hutchinson + +"With a great sum obtained I this freedom."--ACTS xxii, 28. + + + +CONTENTS + + +PART ONE--HOUSE OF MEN + +PART TWO--HOUSE OF WOMEN + +PART THREE--HOUSE OF CHILDREN + +PART FOUR--HOUSE OF CARDS + + + + +PART ONE--HOUSE OF MEN + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Rosalie's earliest apprehension of the world was of a mysterious and +extraordinary world that revolved entirely about her father and that +entirely and completely belonged to her father. Under her father, all +males had proprietory rights in the world and dominion over it; no +females owned any part of the world or could do anything with it. All +the males in this world--her father, and Robert and Harold her brothers, +and all the other boys and men one sometimes saw--did mysterious and +extraordinary things; and all the females in this world--her mother, and +Anna and Flora and Hilda her sisters, and Ellen the cook and Gertrude +the maid--did ordinary and unexciting and generally rather tiresome +things. All the males were like story books to Rosalie: you never knew +what they were going to do next; and all the females were like lesson +books: they just went on and on and on. + +Rosalie always stared at men when she saw them. Extraordinary and +wonderful creatures who could do what they liked and were always doing +mysterious and wonderful things, especially and above all her father. + +Being with her father was like being with a magician or like watching +a conjuror on the stage. You never knew what he was going to do next. +Whatever he suddenly did was never surprising in the sense of being +startling, for (this cannot be emphasised too much) nothing her father +did was ever surprising to Rosalie; but it was surprising in the sense +of being absorbingly wonderful and enthralling. Even better than reading +when she first began to read, and far better than anything in the world +before the mysteries in books were discoverable, Rosalie liked to sit +and stare at her father and think how wonderful he was and wonder what +extraordinary thing he would do next. Everything belonged to him. The +whole of life was ordered with a view to what he would think about it. +The whole of life was continually thrown off its balance and whirled +into the most entrancing convulsions by sudden activities of this most +wonderful man. + +Entrancing convulsions! Wonderful, wonderful father with a bull after +him! Why, that was her very earliest recollection of him! That showed +you how wonderful he was! Father, seen for the first time (as it were) +flying before a bull! Bounding wildly across a field towards her with +a bull after him! Wonderful father! Did her mother ever rush along in +front of a bull? Never. Was it possible to imagine any of the women she +knew rushing before a bull? It was not possible. To see a woman rushing +before a bull would have alarmed Rosalie for she would have felt it was +unnatural; but for her father to be bounding wildly along in front of a +bull seemed to her perfectly natural and ordinary and she was not in the +least alarmed; only, as always, enthralled. + +Her father, while Rosalie watched him, was not in great danger. He came +ballooning along towards Rosalie, not running as ordinarily fit and +efficient men run, but progressing by a series of enormous leaps and +bounds, arms and legs spread-eagling, and at each leap and bound always +seeming to Rosalie to spring as high in the air as he sprung forward +over the ground. It would not have surprised Rosalie, who was then about +four, to see one of these stupendous leaps continue in a whirling flight +through mid-air and her father come hurtling over the gate and drop with +an enormous plunk at her feet like a huge dead bird, as a partridge once +had come plunk over the hedge and out of the sky when she was in a lane +adjacent to a shooting party. It would not have surprised her in the +least. Nothing her father did ever surprised Rosalie. The world was his +and the fulness thereof, and he did what he liked with it. + +Arrived, however, from the bull, not as a ballooning bird out of +the sky, but as a headlong avalanche over the gate, Rosalie's father +tottered to a felled tree trunk, and sat there heaving, and groaned +aloud, "Infernal parish; hateful parish; forsaken parish!" + +Rosalie, wonderingly regarding him, said, "Mother says dinner is waiting +for you, father." + +Her mother and her sisters and the servants and the entire female +establishment of the universe seemed to Rosalie always to be waiting for +something from her father, or for her father himself, or waiting for or +upon some male other than her father. That was another of the leading +principles that Rosalie first came to know in her world. Not only were +the males, paramountly her father, able to do what they liked and always +doing wonderful and mysterious things, but everything that the females +did either had some relation to a male or was directly for, about, or on +behalf of a male. + +Getting Robert off to school in the morning, for instance. That was +another early picture. + +There would be Robert, eating; and there was the entire female +population of the rectory feverishly attending upon Robert while he ate. +Six females, intensely and as if their lives depended upon it, occupied +with one male. Three girls--Anna about sixteen, Flora fourteen, Hilda +twelve--and three grown women, all exhaustingly occupied in pushing out +of the house one heavy and obstinate male aged about ten! Rosalie used +to stand and watch entranced. How wonderful he was! Where did he go to +when at last he was pushed off? What happened to him? What did he do? + +There he is, eating; there they are, ministering. Entrancing and +mysterious spectacle! + +Robert, very solid and heavy and very heated and agitated, would be +seated at the table shoving porridge into himself against the clock. +One of his legs, unnaturally flexed backward and outward, is in the +possession of Rosalie's mother who is on her knees mending a hole in his +stocking. The other leg, similarly contorted, is on the lap of Ellen +the cook, who with very violent tugs, as if she were lashing a box, is +lacing a boot on to it. Behind Robert is Anna, who is pressing his head +down with one hand and washing the back of his neck with the other. In +front of him across the table is Hilda, staring before her with bemused +eyes and moving lips and rapidly counting on drumming fingers. Hilda is +doing his sums for him. Beside him on his right side, apparently engaged +in throttling him, is Gertrude the maid. Gertrude the maid is trying +to tear off him a grimed collar and put on him a clean collar. Facing +Gertrude on his other side is Flora. Flora is bawling his history in his +ear. + +Everybody is working for Robert; everybody is working at top speed for +him, and everybody is loudly soliciting his attention. + +"Oh, do give over wriggling, master Robert!" (The boot-fastener.) + +"'Simon de Montford, Hubert de Burgh, and Peter de Roche.' Well, say it +then, you dreadful little idiot!" (The history crammer.) + +"Oh, master Robert, do please keep up!" (The collar fastener.) + +"Keep down, will you!" (The neck washer.) + +"Four sixes are twenty-four and six you carried thirty!" (The +arithmetician.) + +"Robert, you must turn your foot further round!" (The stocking-darner.) + +"'The Barons were now incensed. The Barons were now incensed. The Barons +were now incensed.' Say it, you ghastly little stupid!" + +"Do they make you do these by fractions or by decimals?... Well, what do +you know, then?" + +Entrancing spectacle! + +Now the discovery is by everybody simultaneously made and simultaneously +announced that Robert is already later in starting than he has ever been +(he always was) and immediately Rosalie would become witness of the last +and most violent skirmish in this devoted attendance. Everybody rushes +around hunting for things and pushing them on to Robert and pushing +Robert, festooned with them, towards the door. Where was his cap? Where +was his satchel? Where was his lunch? Where were his books? Who had seen +his atlas? Who had seen his pencil box? Who had seen his gymnasium belt? +Was his bicycle ready? Was his coat on his bicycle? Was that button on +his coat? + +With these alarums at their height and the excursions attendant on +them at their busiest, another splendid male would enter the room +and immediately there was, as Rosalie always saw, a transference of +attendance to him and a violent altercation between him and the first +splendid male. This new splendid male is Rosalie's other brother, +Harold. Harold was eighteen and him also the entire female population +of the rectory combined to push out of the rectory every morning. Harold +was due to be pushed off half an hour later than Robert, and as he was +a greater and more splendid male than Robert (though infinitely lesser +than her father) so the place to which he was pushed off was far more +mysterious and enthralling than the place to which Robert was pushed +off. A school Rosalie could dimly understand. But a bank! Why Harold +should go to sit on a bank all day, and why he should ride on a bicycle +to Ashborough to find a bank when there were banks all around the +rectory, and even in the garden itself, Rosalie never could imagine. +Mysterious Harold! Anna had told her that men kept money in banks; +but Rosalie had never found money in a bank though she had looked; yet +banks--of all extraordinary places--were where men chose to put their +money! Mysterious men! And Harold could find these banks and find this +money though he never took a trowel or a spade and was always shiningly +clean with a very high collar and very long cuffs. Wonderful, wonderful +Harold! + +Robert was due to be pushed off half an hour before Harold was due to be +pushed off, but he never was; the two splendid creatures always clashed +and there was always between them, because they clashed, a violent scene +which Rosalie would not have missed for worlds. A meeting of two males, +so utterly unlike a meeting of two females, was invariably of the most +entrancingly noisy or violent description. When ladies came to the +rectory to see her mother they sat in the drawing-room and sipped tea +and spoke in thin voices; but when men came to see her father and went +into the study, there was very loud talking and often a row. Yes, and +once in the village street, Rosalie had seen two men stand up and thump +one another with their fists and fall down and get up and thump again. +When two women, her sisters or others, quarrelled, they only shrilled, +and went on and on shrilling. It was impossible to imagine the collision +of two women producing anything so exciting and splendid as invariably +was produced by the collision of two males. + +As now---- + +In comes Harold in great heat and hurry (as men always were) with his +splendid button boots in one hand and an immense pair of shining cuffs +in the other hand. + +"Haven't you gone yet, you lazy young brute?" + +"No, I haven't, you lazy old brute!" + +Agitated feminine cries of "Robert! Robert! You are not to speak to +Harold like that." + +"Well, he spoke to me like that." + +"Yes, and I'll do a jolly sight more than speak to you in a minute if +you don't get out of it. Get out of it, do you hear?" + +"Shan't!" + +"Robert! Robert! Harold! Harold!" + +"Well, get him out of it, or he'll be sorry for it. Why is he always +here when I'm supposed to be having my breakfast? Not a thing ready, as +usual. Look here, where I'm supposed to sit--flannel and soap! That's +washing his filthy neck, I suppose. Filthy young brute! Why don't you +wash your neck, pig?" + +"Why do you wear girl's boots with buttons, pig?" + +Commotion. Enthralling commotion. Half the female assemblage hustle the +splendid creature Robert out of the door and down the hall and on to his +bicycle; half the female assemblage cover his retreat and block the dash +after him of the still more splendid Harold; all the female assemblage, +battle having been prevented and one splendid male despatched, combine +to minister to the requirements of the second splendid male now +demanding attention. + +Busy scene. Enthralling spectacle. There he is, eating; shoving sausages +into himself against the clock just as Robert had shovelled porridge +into himself against the clock. One ministrant is sewing a button on to +his boot, another with blotting paper and hot iron is removing a stain +from his coat, divested for the purpose; one is pouring out his coffee, +another is cutting his bread, a third is watching for his newspaper by +the postman. And suddenly he whirls everything into a whirlpool just as +men, if Rosalie watches them long enough, always whirl everything into a +whirlpool. + +"Oh, my goodness, the pump!" + +Chorus, "The pump?" + +"The bicycle pump! Has that young brute taken the bicycle pump?" + +"Yes, he took it. I saw it." + +Commotion. + +"Catch him across the field! Catch him across the field! Where are +my boots? Where the devil are my boots? Well, never mind the infernal +button. How am I going to get to the bank with a flat tyre? Can't some +one catch him across the field instead of all standing there staring?" + +Away they go! Rosalie, seeking a good place for the glorious spectacle, +is knocked over in the stampede for the door. Nobody minds Rosalie. +Rosalie doesn't mind--anything to see this entrancing sight! Away they +go, flying over the meadow, shouting, scrambling, falling. Out after +them plunges Harold, shirt-sleeved, one boot half on, hobbling, leaping, +bawling. Glorious to watch him! He outruns them all; he outbellows +them all. Of course he does. He is a man. He is one of those splendid, +wonderful, mysterious creatures to whom, subject only to Rosalie's +father, the entire world belongs. Look at him, bounding, bawling! +Wonderful, wonderful Harold! + +But Robert is wonderful too. If it had been Anna or Flora or Hilda +gone off with the pump, she would have been easily caught. Not Robert. +Wonderful and mysterious Robert, wonderfully and mysteriously pedalling +at incredible speed, is not caught. The hunt dejectedly trails back. The +business of pushing Harold out of the house is devotedly resumed. + +And again--enthralling spectacle--just as the reign of Robert was +terminated by the accession of Harold, so the dominion of Harold is +overthrown by the accession of father. Harold is crowded about with +ministrants. Nobody can leave him for a minute. Rosalie's father +appears. Everybody leaves Harold simultaneously, abruptly, and as if by +magic. Rosalie's father appears. Everybody disappears. Wonderful father! +Everybody melts away: but Harold does not melt away. Courageous +Harold! Everybody melts; only Harold is left, and Rosalie watching; and +immediately, as always, the magnificent males clash with sound and fury. + +Rosalie's father scowls upon Harold and delivers his morning greeting. +No "Good morning, dear," as her mother would have said. "Aren't you gone +yet?" like a bark from a kennel. + +"Just going." + +Wonderful father! A moment before there had been not the remotest sign +of Harold ever going. Now Harold is very anxious to go. He is very +anxious to go but, like Robert, he will not abandon the field without +defiance of the authority next above his own. While he collects his +things he whistles. Rosalie shudders (but deliciously as one in old Rome +watching the gladiators). + +"Do you see the clock, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, quicken yourself, sir. Quicken yourself." + +"The clock's fast." + +"It is not fast, sir. And let me add that the clock with which you could +keep time of a morning, or of any hour in the day, would have to be an +uncommonly slow clock." + +Harold with elaborate unconcern adjusts his trouser clips. "I should +have thought that was more a matter for the Bank to complain of, if +necessary. I may be wrong, of course----" + +"You may be wrong, sir, because in my experience you almost invariably +are wrong and never more so than when you lad-di-dah that you are right. +You may be wrong, but let me tell you what you may not be. You may not +be impertinent to me, sir. You may not lad-di-dah me, sir." + +"Father, I really do not see why at my age I should be hounded out of +the house like this every morning." + +"You are hounded out, as you elegantly express it, because morning after +morning, owing to your disgustingly slothful habits, you clash with me, +sir. My breakfast is delayed because you clash with me, and the house +is delayed because you clash with me, and the whole parish is delayed +because you clash with me." + +"Perhaps you're not aware that Robert clashes with me." + +"Dash Robert! Are you going or are you not going?" + +He goes. + +"Bring back the paper." + +He brings it back. + +Wonderful father! + +Rosalie's father gives a tug at the bell cord that would have dislocated +the neck of a horse. The cord comes away in his hand. He hurls it across +the room. + +Glorious father! + +There was a most frightful storm one night and Rosalie, in Anna's bed +with Flora crowded in also and Hilda shivering in her nightgown beside +them, too young to be frightened but with her sister's fright beginning +to communicate itself to her, said, "Ask father to go and stop it." + +"Fool!" cried Flora. "How could father stop the storm?" + +Why not? + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Flora's sharp and astounding reply to that question of Rosalie's +was recalled by Rosalie, with hurt surprise at Flora's sharpness and +ignorance, when, shortly afterwards, she found in a book a man who +could, and actually did, stop a storm. This was a man called Prospero in +a book called "The Tempest." + +She was never--that Rosalie--the conventional wonder-child of fiction +who reads before ten all that its author probably never read before +thirty; but she could read when she was six and she read widely and +curiously, choosing her entertainment, from her father's bookshelves, +solely by the method of reading every book that had pictures. + +There was but one picture to "The Tempest," a frontispiece, but it +sufficed, and at the period when Rosalie believed the ownership of +the world to be vested in her father and under him in all males, "The +Tempest," because it reflected that condition, was the greatest joy of +all the joys the bookshelves discovered to her. She read it over and +over again. It presented life exactly as life presented itself to the +round eyes of Rosalie: all males doing always noisy and violent and +important and enthralling things, with Prospero, her father, by far the +most important of all; and women scarcely appearing and doing only +what the men told them to do. Miranda's appearances in the story were +indifferently skipped by Rosalie; the noisy action and language in the +wreck, and the noisy action and language of the drunkards in the wood +were what she liked, and all the magic arts of Prospero were what she +thoroughly appreciated and understood. That was life as she knew it. + +Rosalie's father, when Rosalie thought the world belonged to him and +revolved about him, was tall and cleanshaven and of complexion a dark +and burning red. When he was excited or angry his face used to burn as +the embers in the study fire burned when Rosalie pressed the bellows +against them. He had thick black eyebrows and a most powerful nose. His +nose jutted from his face like a projection from a cliff beneath a clump +of bushes. He had been at Cambridge and he was most ferociously fond of +Cambridge. One of the most fearful scenes Rosalie ever witnessed was on +one boat-race day when Harold appeared with a piece of Oxford ribbon in +his buttonhole. It was at breakfast, the family for some reason or other +most unusually all taking breakfast together. Rosalie's father +first jocularly bantered Harold on his choice of colour, and +everybody--anxious as always to please and placate the owner of the +world--laughed with father against Harold. But Harold did not laugh. +Harold smouldered resentment and defiance, and out of his smouldering +began to maintain "from what chaps had said" that Oxford was altogether +and in every way a much better place than Cambridge. In every branch of +athletics there were better athletes, growled Harold, at Oxford. + +Rosalie has been watching the embers in her father's face glowing to +dark-red heat. Everybody had been watching them except Harold who, +though addressing his father, had been mumbling "what chaps had said" to +his plate. + +"Athletes!" cried Rosalie's father suddenly in a very terrible voice. +"Athletes! And what about scholars, sir?" + +Harold informed his plate that he wasn't talking about scholars. + +Rosalie's father raised a marmalade jar and thumped it down upon the +table so that it cracked. "Then what the dickens right have you to talk +at all, sir? How dare you try to compare Oxford with Cambridge when you +know no more about either than you know of Jupiter or Mars? Athletes!" +He went off into record of University contests, cricket scores, running +times, football scores, as if his whole life had been devoted to +collecting them. They all showed Cambridge first and Oxford beaten and +he hurled each one at Harold's head with a thundering, "What about that, +sir?" after it. He leapt to scholarship and reeled off scholarships and +scholars and schools, and professors and endowments and prize men, as +if he had been an educational year-book gifted with speech and with +particularly loud and violent speech. He spoke of the colleges of +Cambridge, and with every college and every particular glory of every +college demanded of the unfortunate Harold, "What have you got in Oxford +against that, sir?" + +It was awful. It was far more frightening than the night of the storm. +Nobody ate. Nobody drank. Everybody shuddered and tried by every means +to avoid catching father's rolling eye and thereby attracting the +direct blast of the tempest. Rosalie, who of course, being a completely +negligible quantity in the rectory, is not included in the everybody, +simply stared, more awed and enthralled than ever before. And with much +reason. As he declaimed of the glories of the colleges of Cambridge +there was perceptible in her father's voice a most curious crack or +break. It became more noticeable and more frequent. He suddenly and most +astoundingly cried out, "Cambridge! Cambridge!" and threw his arms out +before him on the table, and buried his head on them, and sobbed out, +"Cambridge! My youth! My youth! My God, my God, my youth!" + +Somehow or other they all slipped out of the room and left him +there,--all except Rosalie who remained in her high chair staring upon +her father, and upon his shoulders that heaved up and down, and upon the +coffee from an overturned cup that oozed slowly along the tablecloth. + +Extraordinary father! + +Rosalie's father had been a wrangler and one of the brilliant men of his +year at Cambridge. All manner of brilliance was expected for him and of +him. He unexpectedly went into the Church and as unexpectedly married. + +His bride was the daughter of a clergyman, a widower, who kept a small +private school in Devonshire. She helped her father to run the school +(an impoverished business which, begun exclusively for the "sons of +gentlemen," had slid down into paying court to tradesmen in order to get +the sons of tradesmen) and she maintained him in the very indifferent +health he suffered. Harold Aubyn, the brilliant wrangler with the +brilliant future, who had begun his brilliance by unexpectedly entering +the Church, and continued it by unexpectedly marrying while on a holiday +in the little Devonshire town where he had gone to ponder his future (a +little unbalanced by the unpremeditated plunge into Holy Orders) further +continued his brilliance by unexpectedly finding himself the assistant +master in his father-in-law's second-rate and failing school. The +daughter would not leave her father; the suitor would not leave his +darling; the brilliant young wrangler who at Cambridge used to dream of +waking to find himself famous awoke instead to find himself six years +buried in a now third-rate and moribund school in a moribund Devonshire +town. He had a father-in-law now permanent invalid, bedridden. He had +four children and another, Robert, on the way. + +It was his father-in-law's death that awoke him; and he awoke +characteristically. The old man dead! Come, that was one burden lifted, +one shackle removed! The school finally went smash at the same time. +Never mind! Another burden gone! Another shackle lifted! Dash the +school! How he hated the school! How he loathed and detested the lumping +boys! How he loathed and abominated teaching them simple arithmetic (he +the wrangler!) and history that was a string of dates, and geography +that was a string of capes and bays, and Latin as far as the +conjugations (he the wrangler!) how he loathed and abominated it! Now a +fresh start! Hurrah! + +That was like Rosalie's father--in those days. That way blew the cold +fit and the hot fit--then. + +The magnificent fresh start after the magnificent escape from the morass +of the moribund father-in-law and the moribund school and the moribund +Devonshire town proved to be but a stagger down into morass heavier and +more devastating of ambition. He always jumped blindly and wildly into +things. Blindly and wildly into the Church, blindly and wildly into +marriage, blindly and wildly into the school, blindly and wildly, one +might say, into fatherhood on a lavish scale. Blindly and wildly--the +magnificent fresh start--into the rectory in which Rosalie was born. + +It was "a bit in the wilds" (of Suffolk); "a bit of a tight fit" (L200 a +year) and a bit or two or three other drawbacks; but it was thousands +of miles from Devonshire and from the school and schooling, that was the +great thing; and it was a jolly big rectory with a ripping big +garden; and above all and beyond everything it was just going to be a +jumping-off place while he looked around for something suitable to his +talents and while he got in touch again with his old friends of the +brilliant years. + +It was just going to be a jumping-off place, but he never jumped off +from it; a place from which to look around for something suitable, but +instead he sunk in it up to his chin; a place from which to get in touch +again with his friends of the brilliant years, but his friends were all +doing brilliant things and much too busy at their brilliance to open up +with one who had missed fire. + +The parish of St. Mary's, Ibbotsfield, had an enormous rectory, falling +to pieces; an enormous church, crumbling away; an enormous area, purely +agricultural; and a cure of a very few hundred agricultural souls, +enormously-scattered. Years and years before, prior to railways, prior +to mechanical reapers and thrashers, and prior to everything that took +men to cities or whirled them and their produce farther in an hour than +they ever could have gone in a week, Ibbotsfield and its surrounding +villages and hamlets were a reproach to the moral conditions of the +day in that they had no sufficiently enormous church. Well-intentioned +persons removed this reproach, adding in their zeal an enormous rectory; +and the time they chose for their beneficent and lavish action was +precisely the time when Ibbotsfield, through its principal land-owners, +was stoutly rejecting the monstrous idea of encouraging a stinking, +roaring, dangerous railway in their direction, and combining together by +all means in their power to keep the roaring, dangerous atrocity as far +away from them as possible. + +It thus, and by like influences, happened that, whereas one generation +of the devoutly intentioned sat stolidly under the reproach of an +enormous and thickly populated area without a church, later generations +with the same stolidity sat under the reproach of an enormous church, +an enormous rectory and an infinitesimal stipend, in an area which a man +might walk all day without meeting any other man. + +But the devout of the day, not having to live in this rectory or preach +in this church or laboriously trudge about this area, did not unduly +worry themselves with this reproach. + +That was (in his turn) the lookout of the Rev. Harold Aubyn--also his +outlook. + +He is to be imagined, in those days when Rosalie first came to know him +and to think of him as Prospero, as a terribly lonely man. He stalked +fatiguingly about the countryside in search of his parishioners, and his +parishioners were suspicious of him and disliked his fierce, thrusting +nose, and he returned from them embittered with them and hating them. He +genuinely longed to be friendly with them and on terms of Hail, fellow, +well met, with them; but they exasperated him because they could not +meet him either on his own quick intellectual level or upon his own +quick and very sensitive emotional level. They could not respond to his +humour and they could not respond, in the way he thought they ought to +respond, to his sympathy. + +He once found a man--a farm labourer--who in conversation disclosed a +surprising interest in the traces of early and mediaeval habitation +of the country. The discovery delighted him. In the catalogue of a +secondhand bookseller of Ipswich he noticed the "Excursions in the +County of Suffolk," two volumes for three shillings, and he wrote and +had them posted to the man. For days he eagerly looked in the post +for the grateful and delighted letter that in similar circumstances he +himself would have written. He composed in his mind the phrases of the +letter and warmed in spirit over anticipation of reading them. No letter +arrived. + +When he came into the rectory from visiting he was always asking, "Has +that man Bolas from Hailsham called?" Bolas never called. He furiously +began to loathe Bolas. He was furious with himself for having "lowered +himself" to Bolas. Bolas in his ignorance no doubt thought the books +were a cheap charity of cast-off lumber. Uncouth clod! Stupid clod! +Uncouth parish! Hateful, loathsome parish! For weeks he kept away from +Hailsham and the possible vicinity of Bolas. One day he met him. Bolas +passed with no more than a "Good day, Mr. Aubyn." He could have killed +the man. He swung round and pushed his dark face and jutty nose into the +face of Bolas. "Did you ever get some books I sent you?" + +"Ou, ay, to be sure, they books----" + +He rushed with savage strides away from the man. All the way home he +savagely said to himself, aloud, keeping time to it with his feet, +"Uncouth clod, ill-mannered clod, horrible, hateful place! Uncouth +clods, hateful clods, horrible, hateful place!" + +That was his attitude to his parishioners. They could not come up to +the level of his sensibilities; he could not get down to the level of +theirs. + +With the few gentle families that composed the society of Ibbotsfield he +was little better accommodated. They led contented, well-ordered lives, +busy about their gardens, busy about their duties, busy about their +amusements. His life was ill-ordered and he was never busy about +anything: he was always either neglecting what had to be done or doing +it, late, with a ferocious and exhausting energy that caused him to +groan over it and detest it while he did it. In the general level of his +life he was below the standard of his neighbours and knew that he was +below it; in the sudden bounds and flights of his intellect and of his +imagination he was immeasurably above the intel-lects of his neighbours +and knew that he was immeasurably above them. Therefore, and in both +moods, he commonly hated and despised them. "Fools, fools! Unread, +pompous, petty!" + +At the rectory, among his family, he seemed to himself to be surrounded +by incompetent women and herds of children. + +He was a terribly lonely man when Rosalie first came to know him and +thought of him as Prospero. He is to be imagined in those days as a +fierce, flying, futile figure scudding about on the face of the parish +and in the vast gaunt spaces of the rectory, with his burning face and +his jutting nose, trying to get away from people, hungering to meet +sympathetic people; trying to get way from himself, hungering after the +things that his self had lost. In his young manhood he was known for +moods of intense reserve alternated by fits of tremendous gaiety and +boisterous high spirits. ("A fresh start! Hurrah!" when release from the +school came. "What does anything matter? Now we're really off at last! +Hurrah! Hurrah!") In his set manhood, when Rosalie knew him, there were +substituted for the fits of boisterous spirits, paroxysms of violent +outburst against his lot. "Infernal parish! Hateful parish! Forsaken +parish!" after the ignominy of flight before the bull. "Blow the dinner! +Dash the dinner! Blow the dinner!" after wrestling a soggy steak from +his pocket and hurling it half a mile through the air. These and that +single but terrible occasion of "Cambridge! Cambridge! My youth! My God, +my God, my youth!" + +A terribly lonely man. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The Aubyn family occupied only a portion of the enormous rectory. There +was a whole floor upstairs, and there were several rooms on the ground +and first floors, that were never used, were unfurnished except for odds +and ends of lumber left behind by the previous vicar, and were never +entered. Rosalie once explored them all, systematically though very +fearfully, and also very excitedly. She was searching for some one, for +two people. + +In the household she knew her father and her mother, her brothers and +sisters and the servants; but there were two mysterious inhabitants of +whom she often heard but whom she never saw and never could find. It +used to frighten her sometimes, lying awake at night, or creeping about +the house of an evening, to think of those two mysterious people hidden +away somewhere and perhaps likely to pounce on her out of the dark. What +did they eat? Where did they live? What did they do? What were they? + +One of these two eerie and invisible people was heard of from her +father. Several times Rosalie had heard him, when talking to persons +not of the family, speak of "my wife." The other eerie and invisible +creature was heard of from her mother: "My husband." + +Where were they? Of all the mysterious things which Rosalie used to +wonder over in those days, this undiscoverable "wife" and "husband" were +the most mysterious of all, and more mysterious than ever after that +day on which, walking on tiptoe for fear of coming upon them suddenly, +holding her breath and pausing in fearful apprehension before entering +the untenanted rooms upstairs, she explored the whole house in search of +them. She got to know all sorts of little odds and ends about them; that +the wife felt the cold very much, for instance, for she had heard her +father say so; and that the husband did not like mutton, for her mother +told that to Mr. Grant the butcher: and she was often hot on their +tracks for she had heard her father say, "My wife is upstairs" and had +rushed upstairs and searched; and her mother say, "My husband is in the +garden," and had run into the garden and hunted. But all these clues +only deepened the mystery. They were never to be found. + +It was mysterious. + +Then one day the wife (she heard) fell ill, and through her great +concern about that--for she was profoundly interested in these people +and used to feel awfully sorry for them, hidden away like that perhaps +with no fire and nothing to eat but mutton--the mystery was explained. + +With the family she was going towards church one Sunday morning and +she heard her father tell a lady that "my wife" was not very well +that morning and couldn't come. Rosalie during the service prayed very +earnestly for the wife's recovery and took the opportunity of praying +also that she might be permitted to see the wife "if she is not very +frightening, O Lord, and the husband too, if possible, for Jesus +Christ's sake, amen." + +And at lunch, having thought of nothing else all the morning, there was +suddenly shot out of her the question, "Father, is your wife any better +now?" + +Rosalie commonly never spoke at all at meals; and as to speaking to her +father, though it is obvious she must have had some sort of intercourse +with him, this famous question (a standing joke in the house for +years) was the single direct speech of those early years she ever could +remember. She spoke to her father when she was bidden to speak in the +form of messages, generally about meals being ready, or relative to +shopping commissions he had been asked to execute; but he was far too +wonderful, powerful and mysterious for conversation with him on her +own initiative. "Father, is your wife any better now?" stood out in her +later recollection, alone and lonelily startling. + +There was from all the company an astounded stare and astounded gasp; +all the table sitting with astounded eyes, forks suspended in mid-air, +mouths half open in astonishment, and Rosalie sitting in her high chair +wonderingly regarding their wonderment. What were they staring at? + +There was then an enormous howl of laughter, led by Rosalie's father, +and repeated, and louder than before, because it was so very unusual +for the family to be laughing in accord with father. Gertrude, the +maid, fled hysterically from the room and laughter howled back from the +kitchen. + +Rosalie's father said, "You'd better go and ask your mother." Her mother +had stayed in bed that day with a chill. + +Robert "undid" Rosalie--a wooden rod with a fixed knob at one end went +through the arms of her high chair and was fastened by a removable knob +at the other end--and Rosalie slid down very gravely, and with their +laughter still echoing trod upstairs to her mother's bedside and related +what she had been told to ask, and, on inquiry, why she had asked it. "I +only said 'Father, is your wife any better now?'" and on further inquiry +explained her long searching after the undiscoverable pair. + +Rosalie's mother laughed also then, but had a sudden wetness in her +eyes. She put her arms about Rosalie and pressed her to her bosom and +cried, "Oh, my poor darling!" and explained the tremendous mystery. Wife +and husband, Rosalie's mother explained, were the names used by other +people for her father and her mother. A man and a woman loved one +another very, very dearly ("as I loved your dear father") and then they +lived together in a dear house of their own and then God gave them dear +little children of their own to live with them, said Rosalie's mother. + +This thoroughly satisfied Rosalie and completely entranced her, +especially about the presentation of the dear little children. She would +have supposed that naturally it thoroughly satisfied Anna and Harold +and Flora and the others; and the point of interest rests here, that +Rosalie's mother also believed that this explanation of marriage and +procreation completely satisfied Anna at sixteen and Harold in the Bank +at eighteen. She never gave them any other explanation of the phenomenon +of birth; and it is to be supposed that, just as she instructed them +that God sent the dear little children, so she believed that God, at the +right time, in some mysterious way, communicated the matter to them in +greater detail. Years and years afterwards, Flora told Rosalie that +when Rosalie was born all the children were sent away to stay with a +neighbour and not allowed to return till Rosalie's mother, downstairs, +was able to show them the dear little sister that God had surprisingly +delivered at the house, as it were in a parcel. + +One is given pain by a state of affairs so monstrous; but one suffers +that pain proudly because one belongs, proudly, to a day in which +nothing but stark truth may go from mother to child, not even fairy +stories, not even Bible stories. Rosalie's mother is gone and her kind +is no more, and in the graces and the manners of this day's generation +one perceives, proudly, the inestimable benefits of the passing of her +kind. Lamentable specimen of her kind, she had no interests other than +her home and her husband and her children and the pleasures and the +treasures and the friends of her husband and her children. She belonged +to that dark age when duty towards others was the guiding principle of +moral life; she came only to the threshold of this enlightened age in +which duty to oneself is known to be the paramount and first and last +consideration of life as it should be lived. + +Rosalie's mother, whose name had been Anna Escott, kept at the bottom of +a drawer five most exquisite little miniatures. They were in a case of +faded blue plush, and they had been in that case and at the bottom of +one drawer or another ever since the girl Anna Escott, aged twenty, had +placed them in the case, then exquisitely blue and new and soft, and +given up painting miniatures forever, in order to devote her whole time +to looking after her invalid father and the failing preparatory school +that was his livelihood. + +Rosalie was herself nearly thirty when she first saw the miniatures. She +was come back to the rectory from the pursuits that then occupied her to +visit, rather impatiently and rather vexedly, her mother on what proved +to be her death bed. She was tidying her mother's drawers, impatient +with the amazing collection of rubbish they contained and hating herself +for being impatient, while her mother, on the bed, patiently watched +her; and she came upon the case and opened it and stared in astonishment +and admiration at the beauty of the five miniatures. + +She asked her mother and her mother told her she had painted them. "I +used to do that when I was a girl," said Rosalie's mother. + +All Rosalie's impatience was drowned and utterly engulfed in a most +dreadful flood of emotion. She set down the case on the bed and flung +herself on her knees beside her mother and clasped her arms about her. + +"Oh, mother, mother! Oh, beloved little mother!" But that is out of its +place. + +Yes, that girl Anna Escott, who had an exquisite talent, and all sorts +of fond dreams of its development, gave it up wholly and entirely and +forever when her mother died and her father said, "I would like you, +Anna dear, to give up your painting and come and look after me and the +school now." + +Anna said, "Of course I will, Papa. It's my duty. Of course I will." + +Girls did that, and parents and husbands asked them to do that, in the +days when Rosalie's mother was a girl. + +Rosalie's mother gave away everything, first to her father, then to +her husband, then to her children. She believed the whole of the Bible, +literally, as it is written, from the first word of Genesis to the last +word of Revelations. She taught it as literal, final and initial +truth to all her children, and one knows how wickedly wrong it is now +considered to teach children that the Bible-stories are true. She taught +them the whole of the Bible from books called "Line Upon Line," and "The +Child's Bible," and in stories of her own making, and from the Bible +itself. Regrettably, the ignorantly imposed-upon children loved it! Till +each child was eight she taught them everything at her knee. All the +nursery rhymes, and all the Bible, and reading out of "Step by Step," +and then "Reading Without Tears," and then, in advancing series, the +"Royal Readers," and writing, first holding their hands, and then--first +in pencil and afterwards with pens having three huge blobs to teach you +how to place your fingers properly--in copybooks graded from enormous +lines which had brick-red covers to astoundingly narrow little lines +enclosing pious and moral maxims which had severe grey covers; and the +multiplication tables and then simple arithmetic; and General Knowledge +out of "The Child's Guide to Knowledge," which asked you "What is +sago?" and required you to reply by heart, "Sago is a dried, granulated +substance prepared from the pith of several different palms." "Where are +these palms found?" "These palms are found in the East Indies." + +Likewise history out of Mrs. Markham and "Little Arthur"; also, at a +ridiculously early age, how to tell the time and how to know the coinage +of the realm and its values; also, whether girl or boy, the making +of kettle-holders by threading brightly coloured wools through little +squares of canvas; also very many pieces of poetry: "Oft had I heard of +Lucy Grey," and "It was the Schooner Hesperus" and hymns--also learnt +by heart and sung while Rosalie's mother played the piano--"We are but +little children weak," and "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild." + +All these things were taught at her knee to each child in turn by +Rosalie's mother, and each was taught out of the self-same books, +miraculously preserved by Rosalie's mother; the backs of most of them +carefully stitched and re-stitched, and marked all through by the dates +of each child's daily lesson, written in pencil by Rosalie's mother. The +dates ranged from 1869 when Harold was being taught and when the books +were fresh and clean, and Rosalie's mother fresh and ardent with her +first-born, to 1884, when Rosalie was being taught, and the books +very old and thumbed and most terribly crowded with pencil marks, and +Rosalie's mother no longer fresh but rather worn, but teaching as fondly +and earnestly as ever, because it was her duty. Literally at the knee of +Rosalie's mother these things were taught. On her knee with one of her +arms about you for the Bible teaching; and standing at her knee, hands +behind you, for the teaching of most of the rest. Yes, that was the +early education, and the manner of the education, of Rosalie and of her +brothers and sisters, and one perceives with indignation the spectacle +of a mother wasting her time like that and wasting her children's time +like that. + +Rosalie's mother did everything in the house and she was always doing +something in the house--for somebody else. She never rested and she +was always worried. Her brows were always wrinkled with the feverish +concentration of one anxiously doing one thing while anxiously thinking +of another thing waiting to be done. She had a driven and a hunted look. + +Now Rosalie's father had a driving and a hunting look. + +Rosalie's father in his youth threw away everything. Rosalie's mother +throughout the whole of her life gave away everything. Rosalie's father +was a tragic figure dwelling in a house of bondage; but he was at least +a tragic king, ruling his house and venting his griefs upon his house. +Rosalie's mother was a tragic figure and she was a tragic slave in the +house of bondage. The life of Rosalie's father was a tragedy, but a +tragedy in some measure relieved because he knew it was a tragedy and +could wave his arms and shout and smash things and hurl beefsteaks +through the air because of the tragedy of it. But the life of Rosalie's +mother was an infinitely deeper tragedy because she never knew or +suspected that it was a tragedy. + +Still, that is so often the difference between the tragedy of a woman +and the tragedy of a man. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The very great difference between her father and her mother maintained +in Rosalie that early perception of the wondrousness of her father. She +loved her mother, but in the atmosphere surrounding her mother there was +often flurry and worry and there was nothing whatever in her mother to +mystify and entrance by sudden and violent eruptions of the miraculous. +She did not love her father for he was entirely too remote and awe-ful +for love, but he entranced her with his marvellousness. This maintained +in her also her perception of the altogether greater superiority of all +males over all females. + +Rosalie came into her family rather like a new little girl first +entering a boarding school. When she was about four, and first beginning +to realise herself, the next in age to her was Robert, who not only was +at the immense distance of ten, but was of the male sex and therefore +had a controlling interest in the world. Then was Hilda who was twelve, +then Flora fourteen, then Anna towering away in sixteen, and then Harold +utterly removed in the enormous heights of eighteen, second only to +Rosalie's father in ownership of the world and often awfully disputing +that supreme ownership. + +So they were all immeasurably older than Rosalie; and they were not only +immeasurably older but, which counted for much more, they all had their +fixed and recognised places in their world just as girls of several +terms' experience have their recognised places in their school, and for +Rosalie there seemed to be no place at all, just as for new girls there +is no place. Her brothers and sisters all had their fixed and recognised +places, their interests, their occupations, their friendships: they +all knew their own places and each other's places; they had learnt +to respect and admit each other's places; they knew the weight of one +another's hand in those places; they were accustomed to one another; +they tolerated one another. + +It was all very strange and wonderful and mysterious to Rosalie. + +She was, as it were, pitchforked into this established and regulated +order and to find a place for her was like trying to fit a new spoke +into a revolving wheel. It cannot be done; and with Rosalie it could +not be done. The established wheel went on revolving in its established +orbit and the new spoke, which was Rosalie, lay outside and watched +it revolve. Intrusions within the circumference of the wheel commonly +resulted in a sharp knock from one of the spokes. No one was in any +degree unkind to Rosalie, but there was no proper place for her and +everybody's will was in authority over her will. She rather got in the +way. To be with her was not to enjoy her company or to enjoy battle with +her and the putting of her company to flight. To be with her was to have +to look after her, and in the community of the rectory, every member, +when Rosalie came, was fully occupied in look-ing after itself and +defending itself from the predatory excursions of any other member. + +What happened was that in time, just as a slight and negligible body +cannot be in the sphere of a powerful motion without being affected by +it, so Rosalie began to move sympathetically to the wheel but on her own +axis. She moved round with the wheel but she was not of the wheel and +she never became really incorporated with the wheel. The spokes were +revolving with incredible rapidity when she first, began to notice them +and they always remained relatively faster. There she was, sitting and +watching and wondering; and the twig grows as it is bent or as it is +left to bend. She looked on and absorbed things; and the first and by +far the deepest of her settled perceptions was that, though she was +subject to all powers, all girls and women were themselves subject to +the power of all boys and men. + +Up to the age of eighteen, six years represents an enormous gulf in the +relative ages of brothers and sisters. You have only to figure it out in +the case of Rosalie to realise how far behind she was always left, and +why, though one of a family of six, she occupied a position outside the +group and was a watcher of them rather than a sharer with them. She was +four when Robert the next above her was ten, which is a baby against a +sturdy and well-developed giant; when she was eight Robert was fourteen, +which is a greater gulf than the first; when she was twelve Robert was +eighteen which, from eighteen's point of view, is as the difference +between an aged man and an infant; and when she was sixteen Robert was +twenty-two, which is a schoolgirl against one of the oldest and most +experienced periods of life. She came in as a new little girl in a big +school; when she had been there eight years--counting from four, when +first she was conscious of arrival--she was still relatively the same: +there she was, twelve, with Robert eighteen and the others twenty, +twenty-two, twenty-four and twenty-six. + +But there she is at eight when she had had four years' experience from +the day of first seeing her father leaping before the bull and thinking +it was perfectly natural that he should leap before the bull. She had +learnt a tremendous lot in that second four years. She knew at eight +that the world did not belong to her father and that on that night of +the storm Flora was right to call her a fool for believing that he could +stop the storm. She knew he was not nearly so wonderful as she used +to think he was; but he was still enormously wonderful and, which she +thought rather curious, she began to see that he rather liked showing +her how wonderful he was. He could sharpen a pencil wonderfully, and he +could eat a herring wonderfully. The thing discovered was that he +was very proud of how wonderfully he could sharpen a pencil or eat a +herring. Strange father! + +"Who sharpened that pencil? Your mother? H'nf! I should think so! No +woman can sharpen a pencil. Now look at me. Watch. I hold it in my left +hand, see? Arm supported against my body. Now look how I cut at it. +Bold, strong strokes, see? No niggling at it as if a mouse was nibbling +it; long, bold sweeps, slashes. See! Look at that. Ah, drat! That's +because I was holding it down for you to see. Watch again. There! There, +that's the way to sharpen a pencil. Look at that. Do you see that long, +firm point? See how clean and long those strokes are? That's the way to +sharpen a pencil. Show that to your mother." + +He was as pleased with himself and as proud as if he had turned the +pencil into gold. + +Funny father! + +Or how to eat a herring. + +"Herrings! Well, a herring is one of the most delicious fish, if it's +eaten properly. There's a right way to eat a herring and a wrong way. +Now watch me and I'll show you how to eat a herring. Rosalie, watch." + +"Rosalie, dear," (from her mother) "watch while your father shows you +how to eat a herring." + +All eyes on father demonstrating how to eat a herring! + +And Rosalie used to notice this about the watching eyes. Her mother's +eyes--most anxiously and nervously upon the operation, as if watching a +thing she would soon be called upon to perform and would not be able to +perform; the eyes of Robert (14) sulkily; of Flora (18) admiringly (it +was getting to be a complaint in the family circle that Flora "sucked +up" to father); the eyes of Anna (20) wearily; the eyes of Harold (22) +contemptuously. + +The herrings (a very frequent dish at the rectory, so much cheaper than +meat) came headless to the table. First father nipped off the tail with +a firm, neat stroke. Then he deftly slit the herring down the stomach. +It fell into two exact perfectly divided halves. Then he lifted out the +backbone, not one scrap of flesh adhering to it, and laid it on the +side of his plate. Then four firm pressures of his knife and the little +lateral bones were exactly removed and exactly laid on the backbone. +Next a precise insertion of his fork and out came the silvery strip +known to Rosalie as "the swimming thing" and was laid in its turn upon +the bones, exactly, neatly, as if it were a game of spillikins. "Now +pepper. Plenty of pepper for the roe, you see. There. Now." + +And in about six mouthfuls father's plate would be as clean as when it +was brought in, decorated rather than marred by the exquisitely neat +pile of the backbone, the tail, the little bones, and the silvery +swimming thing. "There! Delicious! That's the way to eat a herring"; +and he would direct a glance at the plate of Rosalie's mother. Rosalie's +mother made a herring into the most frightful mess it was possible to +imagine. She spent the whole of her time in removing bones from her +mouth; and her plate, when she was half-way though, looked to contain +the mangled remains of about two dozen herrings. "Very few women know +how to eat a herring," Rosalie's father would say. + +Wonderful father! How to sharpen a pencil, how to eat a herring, how to +do up a parcel, how to undo a parcel, how to cut your finger nails, how +to sit with regard to the light when you wrote or read, how to tie a +knot, how to untie a knot. Clever father, natty father! + +Yes, still enormously wonderful father; but also rather strangely proud +of being wonderful father. Rosalie now was constantly being struck +by that. It began to give her rather a funny sensation. She couldn't +describe the sensation or interpret it, but it was a feeling, when +father was glowing with pride over one of these things he did so +wonderfully well--a feeling of being rather uncomfortable, shy, +ashamed--something like that. She contracted the habit when father +beamed and glowed and looked around for applause of giving a sudden +little blink. + +And it was the same in regard to Robert and the same in regard to +Harold. Robert at the height of his exhibitions of his wonderfulness +caused the funny feeling and the blink in her; and Harold at the height +of his exhibitions of his wonderfulness caused the funny feeling and the +blink in her. And the wonderfulness of Robert was always being shown off +by Robert, and the wonderfulness of Harold was always being shown off by +Harold. Men liked showing off how wonderful they were.... + +When Rosalie was about nine, she one day was permitted to have Lily +Waters in to tea with her. Lily Waters was the Doctor's little girl, +also nine. For a great treat they had tea together out of Rosalie's +doll's tea service in the room called the schoolroom. Robert came home +unusually early from school and came into the schoolroom and began to +do wonderful things before the two little girls. He spoke in a very loud +voice while he did them. He stood on a footstool on his head and clapped +his boots together. He held his breath for seventy-five seconds by the +clock. He took off his coat and made Lily and Rosalie tie a piece of +string around his biceps and then he jerked up his arm and snapped the +string. Wonderful Robert! Lily screamed with delight and clapped her +hands, and the more she screamed and clapped, the louder Robert talked. +He did still more wonderful things. He held a cork to the flame of a +match and then blacked his nose and blacked a moustache with the cork. +He did a most frightfully daring and dangerous thing. He produced the +stump of a cigarette from his pocket and lit it and blew smoke through +his nose. Wonderful Robert! Lily went into ecstasies of delight. Rosalie +also went into ecstasies but also strongly experienced that funny +feeling. While Robert held his breath till his eyes bulged and till his +face was crimson, and while he danced about with his nose blacked, and +while he held the cigarette in his fingers and puffed smoke through his +nose--while he did these things Rosalie glanced at Lily (squealing) and +felt that funny feeling of being rather shy, uncomfortable, ashamed; +something like that; and blinked. Wonderful though Robert was, she felt +somehow rather glad when at last he went. + +And just the same with Harold. At supper one night, Rosalie's father not +being present, Harold talked and talked and talked about a call he had +paid at the house of some ladies in Ashborough. Wonderful Harold, to pay +a call all by himself! It appeared that he had been the only man there, +and when Rosalie's mother said, "I wonder you didn't feel shy, Harold," +he said with a funny sort of "Haw" sound in his voice, "Not in the +least. Haw! Why on earth should I feel shy? Haw." He had evidently very +much entertained the party. The more he talked about it the more Rosalie +noticed the funny "Haw." "They must have been very glad you came," +Rosalie's mother said. + +Harold put the first and second fingers of his right hand on his collar +and gave it a pull up. "I rather--haw--think they were," Harold said. +"Haw." + +Rosalie gave that blink. + +Years afterwards, when she was grown up, a grown man boastfully +said something in her presence, and in a flash were recalled father +dissecting a herring, Robert holding his breath till he nearly burst, +Harold hitching up his collar and with the "haw" sound saying, "I rather +think they were." In a flash those childhood scenes, and instantly with +them interpretation of the funny feeling and the blink that they had +caused: they had been the rooting in her of a new perception added to +the impregnably rooted impression of the wonder and power of men,--the +perception that men knew they were wonderful and powerful and liked to +show off how wonderful and powerful they were. + +They were superior creatures but they were apt to be rather +make-you-blinky creatures; that was the new perception. + +On the day after her eighth birthday, the birthday itself being a +treat and a holiday, Rosalie began to do lessons with Hilda. Hilda, at +sixteen, had "finished her education" as had Anna and Flora at the same +age. Harold, who had been a boarder at a Grammar School, had stayed +there till he was eighteen; and Robert, ultimately, continued at +Helmsbury Grammar School till he was eighteen. It was apparent--and it +was another manifestation of the greater importance of males--that boys +had more education to finish, or were permitted longer to finish it, +than girls. + +The school at which Anna, Flora and Hilda thus in the eight years +between leaving their mother's knee at eight and completing their +education at sixteen, learnt everything it was possible to know, was +kept by two very thin ladies called (ungrammatically) the Miss Pockets. +The Miss Pockets were daughters of the former vicar of St. Mary's and +inhabitant of the rectory, and on their father dying and Mr. Aubyn +coming, they established themselves in a prim villa near-by and did what +they called "took in pupils." They were very thin, they had very long +thin noses, they were always very cold, and from the sharp end of the +long thin nose of the elder Miss Pocket there always depended, much +fascinating Rosalie, a shining bead of moisture. + +Rosalie's chief recollection of the Miss Pockets was of being constantly +met by them as she approached the age of eight, and of them always, on +these occasions, fondling icy hands about her neck and saying to her +father or her mother, "And when will our new little pupil be coming to +us?" + +But no direct reply was ever given to this question, either by Rosalie's +mother, who was always made to look uncomfortable when it was asked by +the Miss Pockets, or by Rosalie's father who always seemed to jut out +his nose at it and make the Miss Pockets look thinner and colder than +ever. + +On the morning of her eighth birthday, Rosalie received from the Miss +Pockets by post an illuminated text provided with a piece of red cord +for hanging on the wall and inquiring, rather abruptly, + +"Who Hath Believed Our Report?" + +Rosalie thought at first this was a plaintive question directly from +the Miss Pockets in their capacity as school-teachers and therefore +as licensed makers of reports; but immediately afterwards saw "Isaiah" +printed under it in discreet characters-- + +"Who Hath Believed our Report? --Isaiah." + +and concluded that it was Isaiah who had believed it. On the back was +written in the tall, thin handwriting of the Miss Pockets, "To our +dear little pupil Rosalie, on her eighth birthday, from Agnes and Lydia +Pocket." + +In the afternoon, the Miss Pockets called at the rectory and there was +evidently some high mystery about their visit. Rosalie was in the study +looking for a drawing pin wherewith to affix her illuminated card to the +wall. Hilda ran in. "The Miss Pockets. Where's father? Come out," and +Rosalie was hurriedly run out and shut into the dining-room, leaving the +vindication of Isaiah in the matter of the report on the table. Opening +the door to a chink, Rosalie saw the Miss Pockets, shivering, the +permanent decoration on the nose of the elder Miss Pocket very +conspicuous and agitatedly swinging, ushered into the study, and +presently her father follow his jutty nose into the study after them, +and very shortly after that the Miss Pockets driven out as it were by +the jutty nose and looking thinner and colder than ever before. +Miss Lydia Pocket, who had lost the appendage to her nose and looked +curiously undressed and indelicate without it, was saying feebly, "But +it was understood. We always thought it was understood." + +They shuddered away; and when Rosalie went into the study immediately +afterwards to recover her card, there was upon the word Isaiah, as +though somebody had literally thrown doubt upon his belief of the +report, a large damp spot. + +On the following day, Rosalie began lessons with Hilda. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The lessons with Hilda period lasted till Rosalie was twelve. "Take her +off your mother's hands. That's what you've left school for," was her +father's instruction to Hilda; and so there was Rosalie, put out from +her mother's knee to the schoolroom like a small new ship out from the +haven to the bay; and there was that small mind of hers come in to the +company of Hilda and of Flora and of Anna with the obsession that men +were infinitely more important and much more wonderful than women. She +knew now that the world did not belong to men in the literal sense, but +belonged, as her mother had instructed her, to God; but she knew with +the abundant evidence of all that went on about her that everything in +the world was done for men and that women were largely occupied in +doing it; and she knew, from the same testimony, that men were much more +interesting to watch than women, rather in the way that dogs were much +more interesting than cats. Men, like dogs, were much more satisfactory: +that was it. Her mind was throwing out feelers towards the wonders of +the world and this was the feeler that was most developed. She came +to her sisters very highly sensitive to the difference between men and +women. And her sisters showed her the difference. + +Anna was twenty then. Anna had "finished her education" four years ago. +She had left school "to help your mother in the house"; and when Flora, +two years later, finished her education and left school for the same +purpose, she found Anna grooved in the business of helping her mother in +the house and she was not in the least anxious to help Anna out of the +grooves and herself become imbedded in them. + +This annoyed Anna. + +Rosalie used to hear Anna say to Flora a dozen times a day, "I really +don't see why you should be the one to do nothing but amuse yourself all +day long. I really don't." + +Flora used to say, "Well, you've always done it"--whatever the duty in +dispute might be--"so why on earth should I?" + +Then either Anna's face would give a twitch and she would walk out of +the room, or her face would get very red and there would be a row. + +Or sometimes Flora to Anna's "I really don't see why--" would say +enticingly, "Don't you?" + +"No, I don't." + +"Then ask the Pope," and Flora would give a mocking laugh and run away +out of the reach of Anna's fury. + +The sting in this was that Anna was suspected of having Roman Catholic +tendencies. + +Flora was very pretty and had a gay, bold way. Anna was not pretty. She +had a great habit of compressing her lips, especially in encounters with +Flora, and somehow her face gave the impression that her lips always +were compressed. That was the expression it normally had; it was only +when Rosalie saw Anna actually compress her lips that she realised they +had not been compressed before. It was as though she was always annoyed +about something and then, when she compressed her lips, a little more +annoyed than usual. She had also a permanent affliction which much +puzzled Rosalie. Young men friends of Harold's frequently called at the +rectory, and one afternoon, when two of them called, Anna was the only +one at home to entertain them (except Rosalie). Flora and Hilda rushed +into the drawing-room, directly they came in, and shortly afterwards +Rosalie saw Anna come out. Anna stood in the hall quite a long time with +her lips compressed, and then went into the dining-room and sat down, +but almost at once got up again and went back into the drawing-room, and +Rosalie heard Flora call out, "You can't join in now, Anna. You can't +join in now. We're in the middle of it." Shrieks of laughter were going +on. When the young men went, Flora and Hilda, who had their hats on, +walked away with them. Anna was left at the door. When the girls came +back Anna said to Flora, "I do think you might have told me you'd +arranged to go with them to see it." + +Flora said, "Oh, darling, I thought the Pope had told you." + +They had the worst row Rosalie had ever heard them have. Anna did not +come down to supper. After supper, when Rosalie was in the room with +only Harold and her father and mother, her mother spoke of the scene +there had been between Anna and Flora and it was then that Rosalie heard +for the first time of Anna's most strange affliction. Harold said, "Of +course, the fact of the matter is that ever since Flora left school, +Anna's had her nose put out of joint." + +Rosalie felt most awfully sorry for Anna. Often after that she used to +stare at Anna's nose and the more so because there was nothing visible +the matter with it. Anna's nose was a singularly long and straight nose; +now if it had been Flora's nose that was out of joint!--for Flora's nose +turned up in a very odd way. Rosalie slept in Anna's room and that same +night, Anna's disjointed nose and every other part of her face and head +being covered with the clothes when Rosalie went up to bed, Rosalie, +unable to sleep for curiosity and sympathy, got out of bed and lit the +candle and went across to look at Anna's nose, and very gently felt it +with her finger. Absolutely nothing amiss to be seen or felt! But the +lashes of Anna's eyes were wet and there were stains of tears upon the +upper side of the mysterious nose. It was true, then, for obviously it +hurt. And yet no sign! + +Rosalie got back into bed feeling of her own nose rather anxiously. + +Rosalie used formerly to sleep in Hilda's room and Flora with Anna, but +she was changed one day by her sisters (without being consulted or +given any reason) and the new arrangement was continued. Anna was very +devotional. She used to say enormously long prayers night and morning. +She prayed in the middle of the night also, Rosalie used to think at +first, awakened and hearing her voice, but later found out that Anna +was talking in her sleep, a thing that was mysterious to Rosalie and +frightening. The room of Flora and Hilda, adjoined Anna's and often at +night, when Rosalie was awakened by Anna undressing and lay watching her +at her immense prayers, the chattering voices of Flora and Hilda could +be heard through the wall and shrieks of high laughter. At that, Anna's +shoulders used to shudder beneath her nightgown and she used to twist +herself lower on her knees. For some reason this also used rather to +frighten Rosalie. + +Sometimes, but very seldom, Flora and Hilda used to quarrel; sometimes, +and more often, Hilda and Anna; nearly every day, as it seemed to +Rosalie, Anna and Flora. Rosalie got to dislike these quarrels very +much. They went on and on and on; that was the disturbing unpleasantness +of them. The parties to them would sit in a room and simply keep it +up forever, not arguing all the time, but between long pauses suddenly +coming out with things at one another; or they wouldn't speak to one +another sometimes for days together, and all sorts of small enterprises +of Rosalie's were interfered with by these ruptures of relations. +Innumerable things in Rosalie's life seemed to her to depend on the +mutual good will of two quarrellers; many books, some old toys, walks, +combined games with Carlo who was Anna's and Rover who was Flora's; +innumerable delights with such seemed to be unexpectedly stopped because +of "Oh, no, if you prefer to be with Anna you can stay with Anna"; or, +"Oh, no. If you like Flora's paints so much you can use Flora's brushes; +these are my brushes." A quarrel would in any case produce a strained +atmosphere in which everything became unnatural and this strained +atmosphere went on and on and on. + +And the thing that Rosalie noticed was the complete difference between +these quarrels of her sisters and the quarrels between Harold and +Robert. Robert was rising between the years of fourteen and eighteen in +those days and Harold between twenty-two and twenty-six. Most violent +quarrels sometimes sprung up between them but they were physically +violent, that was the point, and after swift and appalling fury, and +terrible kicks from Robert and horrifying thumps from Harold they were +astonishingly soon over and done with and forgotten. On one awful day, +Rosalie saw Robert and Harold rolling on the floor together. Robert +bumped Harold's head three most frightful bumps on the floor and said +between his teeth, "There! There! There!" Harold twisted himself up and +hurled Robert half across the room and then rushed at him and punched +him with punches that made Robert go, "Ur! Ur! Ur!" + +Rosalie, at her age, ought to have cried with grief and dismay or to +have run away screaming; but instead she only watched with awe. With +terrified awe, as with the terrified awe that an encounter of tigers or +of elephants at the Zoo might arouse; but with awe and no sort of grief +as her sole emotion. Men were different. There it was again! They +did these fearful things, and these fearful things were much more +satisfactory to behold, not nearly so disturbing and aggravating to +watch, as the interminable bickerings of the quarrels of her sisters. + +Her brothers' quarrels were entirely different in all their aspects. In +the quarrels of her sisters, one or the other invariably cried if the +bickering went far enough. These two men, though Robert especially might +have been excused for bellowing, just solidly and only, with fearful +gasps, thumped and clutched and strove. Not a tear! Her sisters' +quarrels were always carried by one or the other to her mother or her +father. How extraordinarily different Robert and Harold! Their sole +anxiety was that neither father nor mother should be told! If any +one threatened to tell, the two, sinking their private heat, would +immediately band together against the talebearer. Extraordinary men! To +that particularly ferocious struggle that has been described, Anna +and Hilda had been attracted by the din, when Robert, overpowered, was +receiving terrible chastisement, and with cries and prayers had somehow +separated them. Behold, the very first coherent thing these two men did +was, while they still panted and glared upon one another, to unite in a +mutual threat. + +"And look out you don't go telling father or mother," panted Harold to +the girls. + +"Yes, mind you jolly well don't," panted Robert. + +Anna said she certainly would. + +Both the extraordinary creatures unitedly rounded on Anna. It might have +been thought that the battle had been, not between them, but between +them and the sisters who had saved them one from another. Astounding +men! + +And most astounding of all to Rosalie was that at supper, little +more than an hour later, Harold and Robert presented themselves as +on exceptionally good terms of friendship. They talked and laughed +together. They had a long exchange of views about some football teams. +Harold laid down the law about the principle of four three-quarters in +Rugby football instead of three and Robert listened as to an oracle. +They had not been so friendly for weeks. And an hour before-! Yes, men +were different. + +And Rosalie found that her sisters, too, knew how different and how +superior men were. Flora and Hilda seemed to Rosalie always to be +talking about men. Flora used to come into the schoolroom while Rosalie +was at her lessons and talk to Hilda. Rosalie was very fond of her +lessons and Hilda was an uncommonly good teacher and took a great +interest in leading Rosalie along the paths she had herself so recently +followed. But directly Flora came in, Hilda's interest was entirely +diverted to what Flora had to say and to what she had to say to Flora, +and it was always about men,--boys or men. Rosalie would at once be put +to learning passages or working out exercises and Flora and Hilda would +go over to the window and talk. They talked mostly in whispers with +their heads close together; they laughed a good deal; they showed one +another letters. Often they came over to the table and wrote letters. +And they used to look up from their whisperings and say, "Go on with +your lessons, Rosalie." + +But it was very difficult to go on while they whispered and laughed +and it was also very troublesome to have Hilda's most interesting +explanations suddenly cut short by the entrance of Flora. Rosalie began +to have the habit of saying "Oh, dear!" and going "Tchk!" with her +tongue when Flora came in. Also restlessly to say "Oh, dear!" and go +"Tchk!" when the whisperings and the laughing about men went on and +distracted her attention while she tried to do her exercises. + +A new aspect of men began to grow out of this. Rosalie began to feel +rather aggrieved against boys and ten. They interfered. + +And this went further. Just as boys and men spoilt lessons so they +began to spoil walks. While Hilda attended the Miss Pockets' school and +Rosalie was taught by her mother, it was always her mother with whom +Rosalie took walks. Anna "never cared to go out" and Flora, whose +position in the house was more like that of Harold and Robert, did much +as she liked, and "dragging Rosalie about for walks" as she expressed +it, was not one of the things she liked. Rosalie therefore went out with +her mother until Hilda took her off her mother's hands, when the taking +off included not only education but exercise. At the beginning, Hilda +showed herself as enthusiastic and as entertaining a walker as she +was teacher. She was ready for jolly scrambles through woods and over +fields, she was as keen as Rosalie on damming little watercourses, and +exploring woodland tracts, and other similar delights, and she had a +most splendid knowledge of the names of plants and flowers and birds +and insects and delighted to tell them to Rosalie. Rosalie had loved the +walks with her mother, always holding her dear hand, but she loved much +more, though in a different way, the walks with Hilda. + +Then men began, in Rosalie's private phrase, to "ruin" the walks. + +First Flora took to joining the walks and she and Hilda talked and +talked together and always, as it seemed, about men, and Rosalie +just trailed along with them, their heads miles above hers and their +conversation equally out of her reach. But even that was not so bad as +it became. At least there were only her sisters and sometimes they +did talk to her, or sometimes one or other would break off from their +chatter and cry "Oh, poor Rosalie! We've not been taking the least +notice of you, have we? Now, what would you like to do?" And perhaps +they would run races, or perhaps explore, or perhaps tell her a story, +and Rosalie's spirits would come bursting out from their dulness and all +would be splendid. + +Not so when on the walks men, from being talked of, began to be met. + +There were at Robert's Grammar School certain young men who were in +no way connected with the school but were the "private pupils" of the +headmaster and were reading for the universities. One day Hilda started +for the walk in her church hat and Flora also in her church hat and her +church gloves. They walked very fast; Rosalie could hardly keep up. And +then at a corner of a lane they suddenly started to walk very slowly +indeed, and suddenly again at a stile, two of these young men were met. + +The young men raised their hats much farther than Rosalie had ever seen +a man raise his hat and one of them said, "Well, you have come then?" + +Flora said, "Well, we just happened to be strolling along this way." +Then she said, "You needn't imagine we came to see you!" which Rosalie +thought very rude; but the young men seemed to like it and all of them +laughed a great deal. + +Presently they all started to walk together, Hilda and Flora in the +middle and one of the young men on either side. The walk lasted much +later than the walks usually lasted and the whole way Rosalie trailed +along behind; and on the whole afternoon the only words addressed to +Rosalie by her sisters came just as, the young men hav-ing taken their +leave a mile away, they were turning in at the rectory gate. Flora then +said, "Rosalie, darling, don't tell mother or father or any one that we +met any one." And Hilda said, "Yes, remember, Rosalie, you're not to say +anything about that." + +After that, the young men were met, and the four walked, and Rosalie +trailed, nearly every day. + +One of these young men was called Mr. Chalton and the other Mr. Ricks. +Like all men, and even more so, they were splendid and wonderful. They +had silver cigarette cases and smoked a lot, and they wore most handsome +waistcoats and ties, and some of their conversation that came back to +Rosalie, trailing behind, was of very wonderful and exciting things they +had done or were going to do. Mr. Holland, the headmaster of the Grammar +School, was the terror of Robert's life, but it appeared that Mr. +Chalton and Mr. Ricks were not in the least afraid of Mr. Holland, and +they talked a great deal of what they would do to him if he ever tried +to interfere with them and a great deal of what they did do in the +way of utterly disregarding him. They were undeniably splendid and +wonderful, but they utterly ruined Rosalie's walks and they greatly +intensified Rosalie's new feelings towards men and boys,--that men and +boys were a great nuisance and spoilt things. + +Time went along. Other young men were met. In the holidays, quite +a number of young men came for their vacations to their homes in +Ibbotsfield and the surrounding district. Certain of these, unlike +the Grammar School private pupils, called openly at the rectory on one +pretext or another, but they were nevertheless also met secretly by +Flora and Hilda, ruined the walks precisely as Messrs. Chalton and Ricks +had first ruined them, and were on no account to be mentioned by Rosalie +to her father or mother. + +The reason for this secrecy was never explained to Rosalie and the +secrecy oppressed Rosalie. It took not only the form of being a thing +she was not able to tell to her mother, and Rosalie was in the habit of +telling everything she did to her mother, but it took also the form +of mysterious and vaguely alarming perils during the walks. An immense +watchfulness was kept up against chance encounters with people. One of +the party would often cry, "Look! Who's this?" and the young men +would separate from the girls and appear as if they were walking by +themselves. Sometimes they would break right away and run off and not +be met again. Very often Rosalie would be sent on ahead to a turning and +told to come back at once if anybody was to be seen and then would be +examined as to who the person was. Sometimes she was posted to keep +watch while the girls and the young men slipped off somewhere, over +a gate or into a barn. She got to know by sometimes rushing in with +warnings that Flora and Hilda on these occasions smoked the young men's +cigarettes. Then when they got home, they would rush up to their room +and wash their teeth and put scent on themselves. And invariably when +the young men took their leave at the end of a walk there would be long +and close whisperings in which were always to be heard the words, "Well, +say you were--" or "Look here, we'll say we were--" and generally, "Go +away, Rosalie. There's nothing for you to listen to." + +It all had the effect of making Rosalie feel unhappy and rather +frightened. She sometimes asked, "Why mustn't I say anything to mother?" +She was always told, and only told, "Because father doesn't like us +meeting men." + +No reason why father should not like them meeting men was ever given, +and Rosalie, ceaselessly disturbed by the concealment, could never +imagine what the reason could be. There could be no reason that she +could imagine; and she was thus immensely taken aback when one evening +at supper her father made a most surprising statement: "The girls have +no chance of ever meeting men in this infernal place." + +Amazing! + +Rosalie's father had been abusing Ibbotsfield and everything that +pertained to Ibbotsfield. Some question of expenses had started him. He +was storming in his wild way, addressing himself to Rosalie's mother +but haranguing at large to all, everybody sitting in silence and with +oppressed faces, avoiding looking at one another and avoiding especially +the eyes of father. They were literally ground down with poverty, +Rosalie's father was saying. He didn't know what was going to happen to +them all. "It's all this place, this infernal, buried-alive place. The +girls ought to be moving about and seeing people. How can they? Very +well. My mind's made up. There's my brother Tom in India. He could +have one of the girls. There's your sister Mrs. Pounce in London. She's +Rosalie's godmother. What's she ever done for Rosalie? Very well. My +mind's made up. I shall write to Tom and I shall write to Belle. I shall +tell them how we are situated. It's humiliating to have to tell them but +what's humiliation? I'm accustomed to humiliation. Ever since we came +here, I have eaten the bread and drunk the water of humiliation. Now the +children are growing up to share it. What can they do in this loathsome +and forsaken and miserable place? What chance have the girls got? Can +you tell me that?" + +He glared at Rosalie's mother. It was clear that he regarded her as to +blame. Rosalie thought that her dear mother must be to blame. Her mother +looked so beaten and frightened. There was glistening in her eyes. +Rosalie's heart felt utterly desolated for her mother. She wished +like anything she could say something for her dear mother. Then most +amazingly the chance to say something came. + +"Can you tell me that?" cried Rosalie's father. "What chance have the +girls of ever meeting men in this infernal place?" + +Rosalie burst out, "Oh, but father, nearly every day--" + +"Rosalie, don't interrupt!" cried Flora very sharply. + +"Rosalie, be quiet!" cried Hilda. + +Father glared and then went on and on. + +It was the beginning of a chain of most startling upheavals. It was +also, and the upheavals were also, a new manifestation to Rosalie of +the all-importance of men. After supper, in the first place, Flora and +Hilda, taking Rosalie very severely to task for her perilous outburst, +explained to her that the men they met were not the kind of men that +father meant they ought to meet. It was necessary, it was essential, +they explained, for every girl to meet men she could marry. That was +what every girl had to do. Men--surely you understand that, Rosalie--had +all the money and everything and met girls and asked them to marry. +Those men sometimes met on walks, you little stupid, were too young and +had no money yet. "There, that's enough," they explained. "Anyhow, we +shan't be meeting them much more. One of us is probably going to India; +you heard what father said, didn't you?... Well, of course you can't +understand properly. You will when you're grown up. Surely that's quite +enough for you to understand at present.... How can a woman live if she +doesn't marry, stupid? She must have money to live and it is men who +have the money.... Well, of course they do because they earn it; look +at Harold; and Robert will have money when he's a little older.... Well, +how can women? Now, I said that's enough and it is enough." + +It was enough and most satisfactorily enough for one purpose. It was +the first explanation of men as a race apart from women that Rosalie had +ever received and it precisely bore out all that she had conceived about +them. It affirmed her perception of the wonder and greatness of men as +compared with women. It intensified that perception. + +Wonderful men! Marvellous and most fortunate men! + +And then the chain of most startling upheavals began. Father wrote to +Uncle Tom in India. Father wrote to Aunt Belle, Mrs. Pyke Pounce, +in London. What he wrote was not to be known by Rosalie, outside the +rectory wheel. The others knew, for father, with enormous pride at his +wonderful epistolatory style in his voice, was heard reading the +letter to them. But the others, of course, knew also what Rosalie never +realised, the grinding poverty of the rectory. She knew no other life +than the herrings, the makeshifts, and the general shabbiness of +the rectory. It was not till long afterwards that, looking back, she +realised the pinching and the screwing that served--almost--to make ends +meet. + +So father wrote. India was far, London was near. Aunt Belle's reply +came while the letter to Uncle Tom was still upon the sea. Such a reply! +Wonderful father to win such a reply from Aunt Belle! "You see what it +is to be able to write a telling and forceful letter!" cried father. +Such an exciting reply! Aunt Belle was coming on a visit "to talk it +over and see what she could do." + +Aunt Belle came. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Oh, a red carpet, a red carpet for Aunt Belle, Mrs. Pyke Pounce, to come +into the story! And if at the end of the red carpet there could be an +"At Home" in the splendid drawing-room of Aunt Belle, Mrs. Pyke Pounce, +at Pilchester Square, Notting Hill, an At Home with about sixty-five +ladies crammed into it, all of them wives of most successful and +well-off men, mostly retired from the Indian Army and the Indian Civil +Service, and all of them chattering ecstatically, and nibbling, and +pluming themselves, and tinkling their teacups, and Aunt Belle, Mrs. +Pyke Pounce, enthroned in their midst, and owning everything and seeming +to own her five and sixty guests, and chattering and nibbling and +pluming and tinkling more ecstatically than any; and then if there could +come into them beautiful cousin Laetitia (when about fifteen) with sleek +black hair beautifully ribboned behind, and with pale, fine brow, and +wearing the sweetest white frock, and if she could move delightfully +about among her mother's guests, and then play the sweetest little +trifle on the pianoforte to the delighted murmurs of the five and sixty +guests of her mother ("She's under Pflunk. The great Pflunk!"); and then +if there could come in from the City Uncle Pyke, Colonel Pyke Pounce, +R.E., (retired) now director of several highly important companies, and +if Uncle Pyke, Colonel Pyke Pounce, R.E., could stand on the hearthrug +with his massy jowl and his determined stomach, and grunt, and rattle +the money in his pockets, and grunt again; and if then there could +come in the new parlour maid of Aunt Belle, Mrs. Pyke Pounce, with her +tallness and her deftness and her slight, very slight, insolence of +air, and all the five and sixty gazing upon her as haughty but envious +patricians gazing upon a slave, and when she had gone swishing out if +Aunt Belle, Mrs. Pyke Pounce, could tell all the sixty and five of +her tallness, her deftness and her slight, very slight, insolence of +manner---- + +Oh, if there could be this and these and a fine red carpet, how exactly +and how fittingly would Aunt Belle, Mrs. Pyke Pounce, step upon the +scene! + +"Dear thing!" That was Rosalie's portrait and thought of her in long +after years. Dear thing! The drawing-room of her crowded triumphs is now +the shabby drawing-room of a second-rate boarding house; the jolly horse +bus she used so commandingly to stop in the Holland Park Avenue and so +regally to enter (whip-waving driver, cap-touching conductor) long +has given place to a thundering motor saloon that stops wheresoever it +listeth and wherein Aunt Belles and old-clothes women fight to hang by a +strap. + +Dear thing! Her ownership of five and sixty guests is exchanged for +ownership of not more than seven and fifty inches of cold earth in +Brompton Cemetery. She is passed and Uncle Pyke, Colonel Pyke Pounce, +R.E., is grunted past to lay himself beside her. They are passed. +Up-reared upon her and upon him is a stupendous granite chunk (in a +way not unlike Uncle Pyke on his hearthrug) erected by their sorrowing +daughter. She is passed; she came into Rosalie's life and Rosalie +crossed her life and she never forgave Rosalie. + +Dear thing! Lie lightly on her, stones! + +She came to the rectory "to talk it over and see what can be done" for +a week's visit, and she stepped out of the cab, all the family assembled +to greet her, a new and most surprising figure such as Rosalie had never +seen before. She was dressed in startling fashions of a most wonderful +richness, and she had immense plumes in her hat that nodded when she +moved and trembled when she stood still, and she was herself either +always nodding with glittering animation or straightening her back and +quivering as if straining at a leash and just about to burst it and go +off. She was like Rosalie's mother and yet not a bit like her. She was +older and yet terribly brisker and stronger. Those were the days when +frosted Christmas cards were of the artistic marvels of the age, and +Aunt Belle beside Rosalie's mother somehow made Rosalie think of a +frosted card beside one of the plain cards. When Rosalie's mother was in +a room you often might not know she was there; but when Aunt Belle was +in a room there seemed to be no one there except Aunt Belle. She began +to talk, in a voice as high as the house, while she was still descending +from the cab on her arrival, and the only time Rosalie ever saw her not +talking was during service in Church on Sunday, when she was alternately +glittering or whispering or else bending down so extraordinarily low +that Rosalie thought she was going to lie prone upon the floor. + +Dear thing! She was so kind to Rosalie and so kind to them all, and +yet----And yet they all, except Rosalie who was too small (then) to +appreciate the resented quality in Aunt Belle's kindness, and Rosalie's +mother who was too gentle to resent anything, and yet they all, save +Rosalie and her mother, loathed and abominated Aunt Belle. It was her +way of doing things. She gave kind gifts, but it was the way she gave +them. She admired everything and everybody in the rectory, but it was +the way she admired. She said most kind and affectionate things, but it +was her way of saying them. + +"Why, how very nice indeed!" That was her insistent comment upon +everything in the rectory. But the tone was, "How very nice indeed--for +you." + +That was the trouble. That was what made Harold (who at twenty-six +was getting very like his father) hurl about a thousand miles over the +garden wall the three apples Aunt Belle gave him as his share of the +"very best apples from the Army and Navy Stores" which she brought down +with other "goodies" for "the dear children"; and made, him grit his +teeth after she had been in the house two days and cry, "Dash her! Poor +relations; that's how she treats us! I'm dashed if I'm a poor relation. +I'm earning three pound ten a week at the Bank and I bet that appalling +old Uncle Pyke didn't get it or anything like it at my age!" + +Dear thing! "She meant it kindly." That was the sweet apologetic excuse +with which Rosalie's mother followed the track of the storms Aunt Belle +aroused and with which she sought to abate them. "She means it kindly. +She means it kindly, dear." + +It should be Aunt Belle's epitaph. It ought to be graven upon that +granite chunk in Brompton Cemetery. "She meant it kindly!" + +Issuing from the cab, Aunt Belle began by kissing Rosalie's mother in +a most astonishing series of kisses that whizzed from cheek to cheek so +that it was a miracle to Rosalie that the two noses did not collide and +her dear mother's be knocked right off; and then most enthusiastically +kissed all the family, applying to each the phrase with which she began +on Harold "Well, well, so this is Harold!" (As if it were the most +astounding and unexpected thing in the world that it was Harold.) "So +this is Harold! Why, what a great big clever fellow, and what a comfort +to your dear mother, I am sure!" And then gazed rapturously upon the +house and said to Rosalie's mother and to them all, "Well, well, what a +very, very nice house, to be sure!" + +("For you!") + +She meant it kindly. Her manner of talking about herself and about her +possessions was not that of bragging or of conscious superiority; +it was, to the whole rectory family, and to all poorer than herself +wherever she met them, that of one entertaining a party of children--of +a kind lady telling stories to a group of round-eyed infants. When she +first had tea on the afternoon of her arrival, she gazed upon the silver +teapot as it was carried in and exclaimed, "Well, well, what a very, +very handsome teapot! And hot-water jug to match! How very, very nice! +Now how ever do you think I keep my water hot at tea? I have a very +nice service all in silver gilt! It looks just like gold! And there's +a kettle to match with a spirit flame under it. The maid brings in the +kettle boiling and we just light the spirit with a match and there it is +gently boiling all the time!" + +Dusk drew in and the lamps were lit. "Lamps!" ecstatically exclaimed +Aunt Belle! "How nice! And Hilda keeps the lamps clean, does she? What a +dear, helpful girl and how very, very bright and nice they are! Now what +do you think? In my house, everywhere, even in the kitchen, we've got +this new electric light! Your kind uncle Pyke had it put in for me. +Installed, as they call it. Now, just fancy, all you have is a little +brass knob by each door, and you just touch a little switch, and there's +your light! No matches, no trouble, just click! and there you are. +Of course it was very expensive, but your Uncle Pyke insisted upon my +having it. He always will insist upon my having everything of the best." + +Dear thing! The echo of her ceaseless tongue brings her exactly to +life again--glittering, chattering, pluming, presenting, praising--her +servants! her house! her parties! her friends! her daughter! her +husband!--Oh, yes, a red carpet! a red carpet for Aunt Belle, Mrs. Pyke +Pounce, to come into the story, and so (at the end of her visit) into +Rosalie's life like this: + +"And Rosalie is going away to school! To a boarding school in London +where there will be ever so many very nice playmates of her own age, and +such romps, and such good wholesome food, and such nice, kind, clever +mistresses! Why, what a lucky, lucky girl! There, Rosalie, what do you +think of that? You are my godchild, and I and your kind uncle Pyke are +going to send you to school and pay for your education because of course +we are well off and can afford it and your dear mother and father can't. +There! Now isn't that delightful? Come and give me a nice kiss then. The +dear child!" + +Tremendous moment! Supernal upheaval! First and greatest upheaval of the +chain of upheavals! Rosalie was to go away to school! + +That was at the rectory breakfast table on the last morning of the +visit, and that was Aunt Belle, Mrs. Pyke Pounce, coming into Rosalie's +life. "Come and give me a kiss then"; that was kind, kind Aunt Belle, +inviting acknowledgment of her kindness and the kindness of Uncle Pyke +(with a cheque) and the kindness of Cousin Laetitia (with a box of +beautiful cast-off clothes that would do beautifully for Rosalie's +school outfit). "The dear child!" That was Aunt Belle's acknowledgment +of Rosalie's most dutiful and most affectionate and most delighted kiss. +(Most amazed and excited and rather fearful Rosalie! Going to school! +Going away to a boarding school in London!) + +"The dear child!" Such a warm and loving kiss from Rosalie! And time +was to prove it the kiss of Judas! Yes, in a few years, "I've done +everything for you!" Aunt Belle was to cry. "Everything! And this is the +return I get!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Next, in its turn, and exactly a fortnight before the beginning of the +term at which Rosalie was to join the boarding school in London, came +the letter from Uncle Tom in India, and with it the beginning of the +second upheaval in the chain of upheavals. + +All of this upheaval was very bewildering to Rosalie. She never +understood it properly. At the beginning it had nothing at all to do +with Anna, and yet Anna from the very first reading of Uncle Tom's +letter--All that Rosalie understood of it was this. + +First the letter came. Tremendous excitement! Father in wild excitement, +Flora and Hilda in frantic excitement, everyone in highest excitement. +Father read the letter aloud at breakfast to Rosalie's mother and to the +girls. Such a splendid letter, said father. Really, Tom was a splendid +fellow, said father. He had wronged Tom. He had thought Tom selfish in +his wealthy indifference. By Jove, Tom wasn't. "By Jove, the way Tom +wrote almost brought tears to your eyes. Listen to this. Listen, mother. +Listen, you girls." + +Uncle Tom, said the letter, would by all means, old man, have one of the +girls. He'd no idea that things were so bad with you. Poor old man! Why +didn't you tell us before? He was sending home a small draft to Field +and Company, his bankers, to help towards the girl's outfit and her +passage money. "'Which girl shall you send?' you ask. Well, it's no +good asking us, old man. You must decide that for yourselves. She'll be +abundantly welcome, whichever it is, and we can promise her a jolly good +time. We are at Simla most of the year. If you want my advice which girl +to send, send the pretti--" + +Father stopped reading. + +Rosalie was staring at Anna. Anna's face, which had been pale, suddenly +went crimson. The suddenness and the violence of it was extraordinary. +One moment she had been pale. In the next, she was burning red. It was +exactly as if a crimson paint had suddenly been dashed over the whole +of her face. It was extraordinary. Whatever was it? That nose of hers, +perhaps? a sudden frightful twinge like Rosalie once had had a sudden +most awful jump in a tooth? But Anna didn't say anything and no one +but Rosalie seemed to notice it. They were all intent upon father. So +intent! Flora's eyes were simply shining! + +And Flora's eyes soon after that were shining more than ever. She was +wild with excitement. Rosalie heard the news just before tea. Flora was +going to India to Uncle Tom! + +"Oh," cried Flora, "I'm so excited I simply don't know what to do with +myself!" It was all arranged. Father had settled it. She was to go in +about six weeks' time. Very shortly she was to go up to London with +father and buy heaps of clothes and all sorts of things. They were going +to stay at a hotel. "Not with Aunt Belle, thank goodness!" said Flora. +"At a hotel! Fancy that!" Mother wasn't going and Flora was glad mother +wasn't going. She would have a much better time with father. Father had +decided everything. He had decided that mother couldn't leave him in the +rectory with all the housekeeping to look after, and the change would do +him good, and Aunt Belle would be able to help with the shopping. They +were going to see some theatres and all kinds of things and were going +to have a most splendid time and then, soon afterwards--India! "Oh I +shall go mad with excitement in a minute!" cried Flora. + +The next thing was in the evening. Rosalie, searching for her mother +to ask her something, could not find her. She went into her mother's +bedroom and there was the most surprising thing. There was Anna on +her knees by her mother and her head on her mother's lap and Anna was +sobbing; and she was crying in her sobs, "But it's my right! I'm the +eldest. It's my right!" + +Rosalie stood there, unnoticed, amazed. Whatever was it? + +Rosalie's mother stroked Anna's head and spoke very softly, "My darling! +My darling!" She said, "My darling, your father has decided. Your father +knows best. Men always know best, my darling." + +"It's my right, mother. It's my right. It's always Flora. Oh, why should +it always be Flora?" + +"Dear Anna. Poor Anna. You must be reasonable, dear Anna. We women must +always be reasonable. Don't you see that your father thinks of me? He +thinks my eldest girl--my dear eldest girl--ought to stay at home to +look after her mother. It's on my account, dear Anna. He thinks of me." + +"Oh, mother, what's the good of telling me that? A lot he thinks of +you or ever has! Why is he going up to London with Flora when it's your +place to go? A lot he thinks of you! You say we must be reasonable. You +can be. You've been unselfish all your life. I can't be. Not in this. +I've never had a pleasure in my life; I've never had a chance; I've +never had anything done for me. Ever since I can remember it's always +been Flora, Flora, Flora. Now there's this. I'm getting on, mother. I'm +nearly twenty-four. What have I got to look forward to? Flora's younger, +Flora's different. She'll have lots of chances of enjoying herself. This +is my right. It's my right, mother." + +"My dear Anna. My eldest girl. My first dear, sweet girlie. How could I +do without you? How happy we've been. How happy we will be." + +Rosalie crept away. + +After a time, Flora and her father went away on the great visit to +London. They were to be away over two Sundays. A clergyman was coming +from Ashborough to take service at the church. Rosalie's father went off +in spirits as high and youthful as the spirits of Flora. For days before +he was quite a different man. Everybody was asked to choose a present +which he would bring back. Everybody chose with much excitement and +chaffing except Anna, who said she could not think of anything. At +meals, father kept on saying how he wished he could regularly make a +point of getting up to town for a bit, it made all the difference being +able to get away from this infernal place for a bit. When herrings were +on the table, he actually came round and did her herring for Rosalie's +mother and Rosalie's mother was able to eat the whole of it and said how +delicious it was and how clever father was. + +It was all splendid. Rosalie had never known such a jolly spirit in the +house. The only thing that spoilt Rosalie's happiness in the new jolly +spirit was the nights in Anna's room. Anna was most frightening to +Rosalie. She prayed now longer than ever, her shoulders moving beneath +her nightgown as if she was shuddering all the time she prayed. And at +night she talked more than ever in her sleep; also she used to get out +of bed at night and walk about the room and talk aloud to herself. It +was frightening. + +Then Flora and father were in London and tremendous long letters came +from Flora to her mother and to all: they were buying heaps of dresses +and underclothes and white drill coats and skirts and a riding habit and +goodness knows what all. "A regular trousseau!" wrote Flora with +about seventeen marks of exclamation after the word. And all they were +seeing--they had been to the Lyceum Theatre and seen Mr. Henry Irving +and Miss Ellen Terry and to the Savoy and seen "The Mikado." Every +moment of the day was taken up and half the night. Oh, this was a change +from Ibbotsfield! + +Anna would never listen to the letters. When they were read out, she +either would put her fingers in her ears or go out of the room. And yet, +curiously, she often later in the day would say in a funny constricted +voice, "Let me see Flora's letter. Give it to me, will you please?" And +would take it away and read it by herself. + +Anna was stranger and stranger in her manner and in her behaviour at +night. Rosalie came quite to dread the nights. Anna began to pray out +loud. She used to pray over and over again the same thing: "It's not +that I'm jealous, O Lord. O purge my heart of jealousy. It is that I see +what could be and what ought to be for me and what never will be for me. +I've nothing to look forward to, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. It +is hard for women. O God, thou knowest how hard it is for women." + +It was frightening. + +Then came the second Sunday of the absence in London. In the night of +Saturday, Rosalie was again awakened by the sounds of Anna and again +heard her praying and again heard "It is hard for women. O God, thou +knowest how hard it is for women." + +She had heard it so often! Anna seemed to have stopped praying. There +was a light in the room and Rosalie saw that Anna, on her knees, had her +head and arms thrown forward on the bed more as if she were asleep than +praying. "It is hard for women." Rosalie had heard Anna say that so +often. And she was going to be a woman one day. And she had always known +that men were the important and wonderful people of the world. Now Anna +said that for women it was hard and that God knew it was hard. Why? +She peered across again. Anna certainly had done her prayers. She said, +"Anna. Anna. Why is it hard for women?" + +Anna started to her knees and turned her body round. "Rosalie! Why are +you awake? You've no right to be awake." + +"No, but I am. I woke up. Anna, why is it hard for women?" + +"You weren't meant to hear. You couldn't understand." + +"But I would like to know, Anna." + +Anna got up and came across to Rosalie's bed; and by her manner, and by +her voice, and by the tall white figure she was, frightened Rosalie. She +said, "Go to sleep. You can sleep. Why don't you when you can? One day +perhaps you'll be like me and can't." + +It reminded Rosalie of "Sleep on now and take your rest" in the Bible, +and frightened her. Anna said, "It's hard for women because men can do +what they like but women can't." She turned away. She stood still and +said with her back to Rosalie, "I've got a longing here." Her hands were +clasped and she brought them up and struck them against her breast with +a thud. "And I always have had and I always will have. Here. Burning. +Aching. And when you've got a longing like that you must--you must--" +Then she said very violently, "I hate men. I hate them. I hate them." +Then she went very quickly to the candlestick on the dressing table and +fumbled with it to blow it out, and it fell on the ground and broke and +the room was black. + +The next day was Sunday. Anna said she would not go to Church as she had +a headache. Rosalie had been invited to spend the day with the little +girl of Colonel and Mrs. Measures and she had lunch and tea there and +then came home. The path from the gate to the house was bounded by a +thick hedge. On the right was the rectory paddock and through the hedge +Rosalie saw that something very strange was going on in the paddock. +Away in the corner where there was a little copse with a pond in the +middle was a crowd of people, some men from the village and her mother +and Robert and some others. Whatever was it? While she peered, Harold +came running out of the group towards the house. His coat was off, +and his waistcoat; and his shirt and trousers looked funny and he ran +funnily. He came near Rosalie and she saw that he was dripping wet. +Had he fallen in the pond? Then two men came round from the back of the +house carrying something, and Harold ran to them and they all ran with +the thing to the pond. It looked like the door of the shed they were +carrying. Rosalie scrambled through the hedge and ran towards the pond. +Some one called out "Here's Rosalie." Hilda came out from among the +people and waved her arms and called out, "Go back! Go back! You're not +to come here, Rosalie! You're not to come here!" Rosalie stood still. + +People were stooping. They had the door on the ground and Harold and +a man were stooping and walking backwards over the door, carrying +something. Presently there was more stooping, and then Harold and Robert +and three men were carrying the door between them and walking as if +the door were very heavy. Whatever was happening? Hilda came running to +Rosalie. She was crying. "Rosalie, you're to keep away. You're not to +come into the house yet. I'll tell you when you can come. Go and stay in +the garden till I tell you." + +Rosalie wandered about by the drive. Whatever was the matter? Robert +appeared with his bicycle. Harold came out after him. "Go to Ashborough +station with it, you understand. See the station master. Tell him +it must be sent off at once. Tell him what has happened." Robert was +sniffling and nodding. Away went Robert, bending over the handle bar of +his bicycle, riding furiously. + +Evening began to come on. Rosalie was wandering at the back by the +stables when Hilda came out through the kitchen door. "Rosalie, I've +been looking for you. Rosalie, Anna is--dead." + +They went in through the kitchen. On the big kitchen clothes rail before +the fire were clothes of Anna's. They were muddy and sopping wet and +steam was rising off them. + +Rosalie ran to her mother to cry. + +"Ran to her mother to cry." That's a thing not to pass over without a +stop. Lucky, lucky Rosalie to have one to whom to take her grief! You +can imagine her small heart's twistings by those days of sorrow, of +terrifying and mysterious and dreadful things that the child never could +clearly have understood; of grief, of mourning; of atmosphere most +eerie made of whispers, of tiptoe treading, of shrouded windows, of +conversations, as of conspirators, shut off with "Not in front of +Rosalie." "Hush, not now. Here's Rosalie." + +Yes, twisting stuff that; but in that "ran to her mother to cry" +something that much more dreadfully twists the heart than those. Those +were for Rosalie--they are for all--but frets upon the sands of time +that each most kind expunging day, flowing from dawn to sunset like a +tide, heals and obliterates. There are no common griefs, and death's a +common grief, that can be drawn above that tide's highwater mark. But +there's that sentence: "Rosalie ran to her mother to cry." That's of the +aching voids of life, deep-seated like a cancer, that no tide reaches. +That twists the heart to hear it because--O happy Rosalie!--the aching +thing in life is not having where you can take your weariness. Your +successes, your triumphs, there are a hundred eyes to shine with yours +in those. Oh, it is the defeats you want where to tell--some one you can +take the defeats to, the failures, the lost things; the lamps that are +gone out, the hopes that are ashes, the springs that spring no more, +the secret sordid things that eat you up, that hedge you all about, that +draw you down. Those! To have some one to tell those to! Yes, there's a +thought that comes with living: Let who may receive a man's triumphs; to +whom a soul can take its defeats, that one has the imprint of Godhood. +They walk near God. + +Awfully frightening days followed for Rosalie. There wasn't a room that +wasn't dark and frightening with all the blinds down, and wasn't a voice +that wasn't dark and frightening, all in whispers; and then came this +that closed them and that was like a finger pressed right down on +Rosalie. + +There was that Rosalie in the church at the funeral service. She sat +at the inner end of the pew with Hilda beside her. The coffin had stood +before the altar all night, with the lamps lit all night, and Rosalie +believed her father had stayed with it all night. He was struck right +down by what had happened, Rosalie's father. She had heard him, when +Anna lay on the bed, and he crouched beside her, crying out loud, "I +hated my lot! O God, I was blind to this my child that shared my lot!" + +Well, there was that Rosalie in the pew beside Hilda, and while she +waited for her father to begin (ever and ever so long he was upon his +knees at the altar, his back to them) while she waited she turned back +the leaves of her prayer book from the burial service and noticed with +a curious interest the correctness of the order in which the special +services came. There, in its order, was the complete record of life. +Rosalie must have had an imagination and she must have had budding then +what was a strong characteristic of her afterwards,--a very orderly +mind. She appreciated the correctness of the order of the services and +she turned them over one by one and could imagine it, like a story: +that record of a life. First the service of Baptism; you were born +and baptised. Then the Catechism; you were a child and learnt your +catechism. Then the Order of Confirmation; you were getting older and +were confirmed. Then the marriage service; you were married. Then the +Order for the Visitation of the Sick: you were growing old and you were +ill. Then the Burial Service; you died. Born, brought up, growing up, +married, ill, dead. Yes, it was like a story. Rosalie turned on. The +next service was called The Churching of Women. It was new to Rosalie. +She had never noticed it before. "Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty +God of His goodness to give you safe deliverance..." Rosalie had heard +the word deliverance used in the Bible in connection with death. She +thought this must be a service special to the burial of a woman--of +Anna. She read the small print. "The woman at the usual time after her +delivery shall come into the church decently apparelled...." Decently +apparelled? Anna was in one of those nightgowns in which Rosalie so +often had seen her praying. "... and there shall kneel down in some +convenient place." Kneel down? How could she?... + +There came upon the book while Rosalie pondered it the long, +black-gloved forefinger of Hilda. It turned back the thin leaves to the +burial service and then pushed over one or two of the thin leaves and +indicated certain places. Then Hilda's new black hat was touching her +own new black hat, and Hilda whispered, "Where it says 'brother' and +'his' father will say 'sister' and 'her.' It's written for men, do you +see?" + +Always for men! Even in the prayer book! + +And it was because of men that Anna had drowned herself in the pond. +Over and over again Rosalie had thought of that, wondering upon it, +shuddering at the thought of men because of it. How she came to know +that Anna had not died as ordinary people die, but had drowned herself +in the pond she never could remember. No one told her. Rosalie +was twelve then but the others were all so much older, and were so +accustomed to treating Rosalie as so very much younger, that the pain +and mystery of poor Anna's death was outstandingly of the class of +things that were kept within the established wheel of the rectory by +"Not in front of Rosalie," or "Hush, here's Rosalie." + +The effect was that when Rosalie somehow found out, she felt it to be +a guilty knowledge. She was not supposed to know and she felt she ought +not to have known. And sharing, but secretly, the others' knowledge that +Anna had drowned herself in the pond, she supposed that they equally +shared with her her knowledge of why poor Anna had drowned herself in +the pond--because of men. She overheard many conversations that assured +her in this belief. "Some man we knew nothing about," the conversation +used to say. "What else could it have been? Hush, here's Rosalie." +And again, after they had all been out of the house to attend what was +called the inquest, "You heard what the coroner said--that there was +almost invariably something to do with a man in these cases. Poor Anna! +Poor darling Anna. If she had only told us. What else could it have +been? Harold, hush! Not in front of Rosalie!" + +Of course it was nothing else. It was that. It was men. Anna had said +so. "I hate men. I hate them." Yes, men had done this to Anna. + +Her mind went violently, as it were with a violent clutch of both her +hands, as of one in horrible dark, clutching at means of light, to the +thought that next week she was to be away at school--to be right away +and in the safe middle of lots and lots of girls, and only girls. She +had a frightening, a shuddering, at the thought of men who caused these +terrible things to be done, who mysteriously and horribly somehow had +done this thing to Anna. + +The long, black finger poked at the page again. "There. 'This our +brother.' Father will say 'This our sister.' Do you see, Rosalie? This +our sister." + +A shower of tears sprang out of Rosalie's eyes and pattered upon the +page. + +She wiped them. She set her teeth. A new and most awful concern +possessed her. 'This our sister.' Would father remember? When he came +to brother would he remember to say sister? And when 'his' would he +remember to say 'her?' She searched for the places. A most frightful +agitation seized her that father would forget. What would happen if he +forgot? + +And at the very first place father did forget! + +They were come from the church to the grave. They were grouped about +that most terrible and frightening pit. Rosalie was clutching her +mother's dear hand, and in her other hand held her prayer book. There +it was, the first place for the change. Brokenly her father's voice came +out upon the air, and at his very first word--the fatal word--Rosalie +caught her breath in sharp and agonized dismay. + +"Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live and is full of +misery...." + +She called out--she could not help it--"Father!" + +Her mother's hand, squeezing hers, restrained her. + +The broken voice went on "... cometh up and is cut down like a flower." + +She heaved relief. No one had noticed it. It was all right. No one else +had heard the terrible mistake. It was all right. But it was very wrong. +Above all other places this was the place that should have been changed. +Woman... that is full of misery. How could it ever be Man? Anna, in +almost her last words, had said it. "It is hard for women" and that +God knew it was hard for them--"O God, thou knowest how hard it is for +women." + +In the next week she went away to school. + + + + +PART TWO--HOUSE OF WOMEN + +CHAPTER I + + +What anybody can have nobody wants; but what only one person can have +there's a queue to get. + +This is an elementary principle of the frailty of human nature, and +knowledge of it, and experience of its mighty truth, used to cause, +during the three holiday periods of the year, a standing advertisement +to appear on the front page of the Morning Post. + +"High-class Ladies' School for the Daughters of Gentlemen of the +Professions has UNEXPECTED VACANCY for ONE ONLY pupil at reduced +terms--Mrs. Impact, Oakwood House School, St. John's Wood, London." + +ONE ONLY pupil! That was the magic touch. + +The very first words addressed to Rosalie by a fellow boarder at Oakwood +House were from a short, sharp-featured girl of her own age, which then +was twelve, who said to her sharply, "You're a One Only. I can see you +are. Aren't you a One Only?" + +"Well, I'm by myself," said Rosalie, not understanding but most anxious +to say the right thing. + +"Stupid, you're not," said the sharp girl, "because I'm with you. Did +your mother see the advertisement in the Morning Post? The advertisement +of this school?" + +It happened that Rosalie knew her mother had seen it for Aunt Belle had +shown it to her and to them all. "One of the very best schools," +Aunt Belle had said. "You see, it's only quite by chance there was a +vacancy." + +"Yes, she did," said Rosalie. + +"She's the cat's grandmother," said the sharp girl. "Never say 'she' for +a person's name. Well, if your mother saw the advertisement then you +are a One Only at reduced terms, and I knew you were directly I saw you. +Now, tell me. Don't blink--unless of course you're an idiot; all idiots +blink. Tell me. Was that dress made for you or was it cut down?" + +"It was my cousin Laetitia's," said Rosalie. + +"Of course it was," returned the sharp girl very triumphantly. "Every +One Only's clothes are cut down for her. Poopers! Do you know what a +pooper is? A pooper is half a poop and half a pauper. Every One Only's +a pooper. Well, now you know what you are. You see that girl over there. +Do you know what she is?" + +Rosalie said she did not. + +"She's a Red Indian." + +"Is she?" said Rosalie, much surprised, for the girl did not look in the +least like a Red Indian. + +"Ask her," said the sharp girl. "Do you know what I am?" + +Rosalie shook her head. + +"Answer," said the sharp girl. + +"No, I don't," said Rosalie. + +"I'm a Sultan," said the sharp girl. "All the nice girls are Sultans and +the school belongs to them. Do I look nice?" + +"Very," said Rosalie, though she did not think so. + +"Then why didn't you know I was a Sultan? The school belongs to the +Sultans. The One Onlys and the Red Indians are interlopers, especially +the One Onlys. Always shudder when you see a Sultan. Shudder now." + +Rosalie wriggled her shoulders. + +"Again, poop." + +Rosalie repeated the wriggle. + +"Vanish, poop," said the sharp girl, and herself sprung away with +mysterious crouching bounds, her head thrust forward, looking very like +Gagool, the witch, in King Solomon's Mines; and was seen by Rosalie to +pounce upon another small girl who was probably a One Only and, from her +forlorn aspect, certainly a sad and desolated new. + +One Onlys, Red Indians, Sultans. They were the three castes into which +the girls divided themselves: One Onlys the poopers brought by the +advertisement; Red Indians the daughters of parents resident in India; +Sultans the proud creatures who paid full fees and took their title from +the nickname of the headmistress--the Sultana. This Oakwood House School +in which Rosalie now found herself was one of those very big old houses +with a spacious, walled-in garden that probably was occupied in the +Fifties somewhere, when St. John's Wood was out in the country, by a +wealthy old City merchant who rode in to business two or three times +a week, never dreaming that one day London was going to stretch miles +beyond St. John's Wood, and his imposing residence go dropping down the +scale of fashion eventually to become a school for young ladies who on +their crocodile walks would huddle, giggling, along the kerbstone while +the dangerous traffic roared up and down the Maida Vale highway. + +Those crocodiles! There was a news agent's shop just opposite where the +crocodile used to cross when it went out every morning, and one of the +great excitements of the walk was to get around the corner and see what +the newspaper bills had to tell. There were about forty girls at the +school--a crocodile twenty files long--and on the days of sensational +events the news from the placards used to come flashing back in +emotional little screams from the head of the crocodile, gazing with +goggling eyes, to the tail of the crocodile pressing deliriously up +behind. "The Maybrick Case"; "Jack the Ripper Again"; "Death of the Duke +of Clarence"; "Loss of H.M.S. Victoria"; Rosalie never afterwards could +hear those terrific things referred to without recalling instantly the +convulsions of the crocodile and experiencing within her own bosom the +tumults that contributed their share to the convulsions. She was in the +writhing tail of the crocodile when "Jack the Ripper Again" caused it +almost to swoon, and she was in its weeping head when "Death of the Duke +of Clarence" and "Loss of H.M.S. Victoria" struck its orderly coils into +a tangled and hysterical knot. + +Mrs. Impact, who kept this school, was a massive and frightening figure +of doom who wore always upon her head, and was suspected of sleeping +in, a strange erection having the appearance of a straw beehive. She was +called the Sultana and her appearance and her habits seemed to Rosalie +precisely the appearance and habits that would belong to a sultana. The +Sultana appeared virtually never among the girls. The direction of the +discipline and education of the pupils was in the hands of the chief of +the Sultana's staff of badly paid and much intimidated mistresses. This +chief of staff, by name Miss Ough, but called the Vizier, appeared +from and disappeared into the quarters occupied by the Sultana, and was +popularly supposed to be kept there in a dungeon. If you were near +the door through which the Vizier passed from public gaze there was +unquestionably to be heard shortly afterwards a metallic clank. This was +the portal of the Vizier's dungeon being closed upon her and was very +shuddering to hear. The Vizier, moreover, like one long incarcerated, +was skeletonized of form, cadaverous and sallow of countenance, and grew +upon her face, as all right prisoners in royal custody grow, a thick +covering of greyish down. + +A second known inhabitant of the Sultana's quarters was Mr. Ponders, her +butler, who sometimes slid into the classrooms in a very eerie way with +messages and whom Rosalie came to know strangely well; a third, but he +did not exactly live in the awful regions, was the Sultana's husband. +The Sultana's husband lived in two rooms over the stable. From the front +classroom windows he was to be seen every morning disappearing through +the front gates at about eleven o'clock; very shiny top hat; very tight +tail coat; very tight grey trousers; very tight yellow gloves; +very tight grey-yellow moustache; very tight pasty face; curiously +constricted, jerky gait as though his boots, too, were very tight. +Precisely the sort of chronic, half-tipsy hanger-on one used to see +in billiard rooms or eating cloves in West End bars. By association of +ideas with the orientalism of Sultana he was called by the girls the +Bashibazook. + +Junior to Miss Ough, the vizier, were four or five other mistresses, all +known by nicknames. Children are exactly like savages in their horrible +sharpness at picking out physical peculiarities and labelling by them. +One would imagine these governesses, judged by their nicknames, a +deplorable collection of oddities. Actually they must have been a +presentable enough and a capable enough set of spinsters, though +sicklied o'er by the pale cast of indifferent personalities, +indifferently housed, indifferently fed, indifferently paid; all +anaemic, all without any prospects whatsoever, all dominated by and +domineered over by the masterful personality of the Sultana. + +Only one of them contributed to the life of Rosalie and this was +"Keggo," Miss Keggs, who taught mathematics. This Keggo was rather like +Anna in appearance, Rosalie thought, and was most popular of all the +mistresses with the girls, partly because of her bright moments in which +she was a human creature and an entertaining creature; partly because +of her curiously supine periods in which she would be utterly listless, +allow her class to do anything they liked provided they kept perfectly +quiet, and would make no attempt whatsoever to correct idleness or to +impart the lesson of the hour. Miss Keggs had been known to knock over +the inkpot on her desk and sit and watch the ink dripping in a pool +on to the floor without making the least attempt even to upstand the +vessel. No one knew why Keggo had these moods. But it was known that for +her to come into class looking rather flushed was a sign foreshadowing +them. + +She appeared to take a fancy to Rosalie from the first, and Rosalie to +her, probably by reason of the fancied resemblance to Anna. She invited +Rosalie to her room and Rosalie loved to go there because the One Onlys +were in a very weak and humble minority in Rosalie's first term and +were rather hunted by the Sultans who were then particularly strong in +numbers and rich in apparel, in pocket money, and in friends. The poor +little One Onlys led rather abashed lives and they had no chance at all +around the playroom fire where the Sultans stretched their elegant legs +and warmed their shapely toes. + +One evening in her first few weeks Rosalie had to take an exercise up +to Miss Keggs, and Miss Keggs's room was warm, and Miss Keggs like +Anna, and Rosalie lingered and was invited to linger; after that Rosalie +sought and invented reasons for going up to Miss Keggs's room and Miss +Keggs would nearly always say, "Well, you may stay a little, Rosalie, as +you're here." + +Miss Keggs's room was right at the top of the house where were also the +servants' room and the room shared by Miss Downer and Miss Frost. It was +a long, narrow room with sloping ceiling and the window high up in the +ceiling. In the winter it was warmed with a small oil stove which smelt +terribly when you first went in but to the smell of which you almost at +once got accustomed. It was curious to Rosalie that even in summer when +there was no oil stove there was nearly always a very strong smell +in Miss Keggs's room. Miss Keggs used eau de Cologne for bathing her +forehead and temples on account of the very bad headaches from which +she said she suffered and the smell was like eau de Cologne but with an +unpleasantly harsh strong tang in it, like bad eau de Cologne, Rosalie +used to think. However, you almost at once got accustomed to that also. +These headaches of Miss Keggs were a symptom of the very bad health from +which she suffered, and on the occasions of Rosalie's visits to her +room Miss Keggs was very communicative about her ill health. It was the +reason, she told Rosalie, why, alone of all the mistresses, she had a +room to herself instead of sharing one. The Sultana had granted her that +privilege, provided she would use this remote and rather poky attic, +because it was so essential she should be quiet and undisturbed. + +"Don't you have any medicine, Miss Keggs?" said the small Rosalie, +in one part genuinely sympathetic and in the other eager to discuss +anything that would prolong her stay by the warm oil stove. + +"Nothing does me any good," said Miss Keggs wearily. After a minute +she added, "But I really am feeling very bad to-night. Mr. Ponders very +kindly gives me some medicine that relieves my bad attacks. I wonder, +Rosalie, if you could find your way down to Mr. Ponders and give him +this medicine bottle and ask him if he could very kindly oblige me with +a little of my medicine?" + +"Oh, I'm sure I could, Miss Keggs," cried Rosalie, delighted at the +opportunity of doing a service. + +Miss Keggs became extraordinarily animated with the feverish animation +of one who, having made up her mind after hesitation, furiously tramples +hesitation under foot. + +"Go right downstairs," directed Miss Keggs, "right down below the hall +into the basement. You know the basement stairs?" She proceeded with her +directions, detailing them most exactly. She accompanied Rosalie to the +door and when Rosalie was a little down the passage sharply called her +back. "And, Rosalie! If you should meet any one--if you should meet any +one, on no account say where you are going or where you have been. On no +account. If it should be known how ill I continue to be, I might be sent +away. They might think I am not strong enough to continue my work here. +Say you have lost your way if you should be met. You are a new little +girl and it is easy to lose your way in this big, rambling house. Keep +the bottle in your pocket and remember, Rosalie, on no account to tell. +On no account." And so dismissed her. + +A creepy business, going down to interview Mr. Ponders! The Sultana's +butler was only seen by the girls on momentous and thrilling occasions. +He opened the hall door when new little girls arrived with their +mothers, and he would sometimes appear in a classroom and walk +thrillingly to the mistress and thrillingly whisper. This always meant +that for some fortunate girl a parent or an aunt had arrived and that +the presence of the fortunate girl was desired by the Sultana. He was a +shortish, dingy man with a considerable moustache. As he walked between +the desks to deliver his message, his eyes were always glancing from +side to side as though furtively in search of something, and always as +he left the room he would stand a moment with his hand on the door +as though meditating some statement and then suddenly de-termining to +disappear without making it. A rather mysterious and thrilling man. + +Come into the basement, Rosalie walked as bid along the passage, then +to the right and then past two doors to the third, whereon she tapped +gently, and when a man's voice said "Come in," quaked rather, and went +in. The walls of Mr. Ponders' room were completely surrounded by narrow +shelves. Beneath the shelves were the closed doors of low cupboards and +on the shelves were ranged many glasses, china and silverware. At one +end beneath the window was a sink with two taps, both dripping. On the +right-hand side was a fire before which in a wicker armchair sat Mr. +Ponders smoking a pipe and reading a newspaper. + +"What do you want?" inquired Mr. Ponders. + +Rosalie said, "If you please, Mr. Ponders, Miss Keggs is not feeling +at all well and would you be so very kind as to give her some of her +medicine, please?" + +Mr. Ponders rose and regarded Rosalie from the hearthrug. "So it's going +to be you coming for the medicine now, is it?" he said. He looked rather +a mean little man, standing there; not thrilling as when he appeared in +the schoolrooms for there was an unpleasing familiarity in his air, but +still decidedly mysterious, for though he smiled and looked snakily at +Rosalie, he still glanced from side to side as though furtively looking +for something and he still, before committing himself to an action, +paused as though meditating a statement and then suddenly performed the +action as though he had made up his mind not to speak--yet. + +"You're Rosalie, aren't you?" inquired Ponders, putting his hands in +his pockets and stretching out his stomach like one much at his ease. +"Rosalie Aubyn. You come with your Auntie. What's your Pa?" + +"A clergyman, Mr. Ponders." + +"Oh, he's a clergyman, is he?" Mr. Ponders's eyes slid from side to +side, rather as if he had somewhere in the room some confirmation or +some refutation of Rosalie's statement that he could produce if he could +catch sight of it, and continued thus to slide with the same suggestion +while he playfully put Rosalie through a further examination relative to +her "Auntie," her "Ma" and her brothers and sisters. He appeared then +to be meditating a question of some other order but instead suddenly +straightened himself, withdrew his hands from his pockets and said, +"Well, you'd better be running along with the medicine." + +He took from Rosalie the bottle Miss Keggs had given her and from his +pockets a bunch of keys. In the lock of one of his cupboards he fitted a +key, paused a meditative moment, then with a decisive action opened the +cupboard and from a tall black bottle very carefully and steadily filled +the medicine bottle. The medicine was dark red. It first ran in a fine +dark red cloud around the inner shoulders and sides of the bottle and +then plunged in a steady stream direct from the larger receptacle to the +smaller. + +Rosalie, watching, was moved to say, "How well you pour it, Mr. +Ponders." + +"I've poured a tidy drop in my time," said Mr. Ponders, completing the +operation and corking the medicine bottle. He held it towards Rosalie, +paused in his mysteriously deliberative way, and then suddenly handed it +to her. "And a tidy fair drop for Miss Keggs at that," he added. He went +to the door, again paused as though uncertain whether to open it, then +opened it for Rosalie to pass out. "Good night," said Mr. Ponders. + +Lucky Mr. Ponders to have for his own a cosy room like that--men, always +for some reason, with the best of everything again! Unpleasing Mr. +Ponders to look at you like that and to speak to you like that--men, +always horrible again! Rosalie, thus thinking, made a swift and +unobserved climb to the attics. Miss Keggs must have heard her coming. +The door was pulled sharply from Rosalie's hand and there was Miss Keggs +and the bottle almost snatched away from Rosalie. "How long you've been! +But you've got it! And no one saw you?" Miss Keggs went very swiftly +to the washstand and took up a small tumbler. Clear that she wanted her +medicine very badly. She toppled in the contents of the bottle, its neck +clinking against the glass, the dark red medicine splashing and some +spilling, so differently from Mr. Ponders's performance of a far more +difficult operation, and with the bottle still in her hand held the +glass to her lips and drank deeply. + +Yet there was a funny thing about the draught. It seemed to Rosalie that +Miss Keggs with that eager draught yet did not swallow at once but only +filled her mouth to its capacity. She then swallowed very slowly and +with movements of her cheeks as though she was sucking down the medicine +and tasting it in every portion of her mouth. Colour came into her +cheeks. The medicine certainly appeared to do her immense good. + +Miss Keggs's friendliness towards Rosalie was settled and established +from that night. Thereafter it became a very regular thing for Rosalie +to visit the room of Miss Keggs of an evening; and at intervals, +sometimes twice a week, sometimes not three times in a month, to descend +to the den of Mr. Ponders for the dark-red medicine which did Miss Keggs +so much good and which she always took in that peculiar sucking way from +a full mouth, one would be so long sometimes in swallowing a mouthful, +beginning a sentence and then drinking and then all that time in +swallowing before she completed the sentence, that she several times, by +way of apology, ex-plained the reason to Rosalie. "I have to swallow it +very slowly like that," explained Miss Keggs, "because that's the way +for it to do me good. It's my doctor's orders." + +"It seems a business," was Rosalie's comment. + +"Yes, it is a business," Miss Keggs agreed. + +Rosalie added, "How very lucky it is, Miss Keggs, that Mr. Ponders keeps +your medicine." + +"Yes, it's certainly very lucky," Miss Keggs agreed. + +The effect of her medicine was always to make her very complaisant. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +One seeks to give only the things in Rosalie's life that contributed to +her record, as time judges a record. Of her years at Oakwood House, so +far as Oakwood House itself is concerned, only that friendship with +Miss Keggs thus contributed. The rest does not matter and may be passed. +Rosalie was happy there. It naturally was all very strange at first +but she soon shook down and found her place and formed friendships. The +thing to notice is this--that even in the strangeness of her first few +weeks the place was actively felt by her to be a haven. There is to be +recalled that aching desire of hers, when poor Anna lay dead, to get +right away from men: men who (though still pre-eminently wonderful) +caused her by their showing off to blink and have a funny feeling; and +by their distasteful presence spoilt her walks and her lessons; and by +the frightening things they did had brought that frightening death to +Anna. Thus had accumulated that aching desire to get right away from +men and be only amongst girls; and the feeling remained most lively in +Rosalie at the Sultana's, and intensified. Those men! She used to see +the Bashibazook and shudder at him; and Mr. Ponders and shudder at him; +and sometimes Uncle Pyke, and because of ways he had, feel quite sick +to be near him. Men still were wonderful. The Bashibazook, Mr. Ponders, +Uncle Pyke, Uncle Pyke's friends--all were infinitely superior and did +what they pleased; but, oh, not nice, frightening. It was safe and nice +to be only with girls. Girls were in heaps of ways extraordinarily silly +and unsatisfactory. Men though not nice, unquestionably did everything +better and could do things. Unquestionably theirs was the best time in +life. Unquestionably they were to be envied. But--not nice, frightening. + +It was like that that her ideas at Oakwood House were shaping. + +And all this time, most important and much contributory to the life of +Rosalie--Aunt Belle. Tremendous occasions in those years were the visits +to the Sultana's of Aunt Belle. Frequently on a Saturday, kind Aunt +Belle used to call at Oakwood House for Rosalie and take her to a tea +shop for tea. Beautiful cousin Laetitia would accompany her, and kind +Aunt Belle would always invite Rosalie to bring with her another little +One Only. Kind, kind Aunt Belle! Aunt Belle used to sit by in the tea +shop, affectionate and loquacious as ever, while the two schoolgirls +stuffed themselves with cakes (not beautiful Laetitia who just nicely +sipped a cup of tea and nicely smiled at the two gross appetites) and +always kind Aunt Belle brought a small hamper of sweets and cake and +apples--"The very best goodies from the Army and Navy Stores, dear +child. They know us so well at the Army and Navy Stores. Your Uncle Pyke +has a standing deposit account there. We can go in without a penny in +our pockets and buy anything we please. Fancy that, dear child!" And +always half a crown for Rosalie, as kind Aunt Belle was leaving. + +Once in every term, also, Rosalie spent a week-end at the magnificent +house in Pilchester Square. Such luxuries! Fire in her bedroom and +palatial late dinner! Breakfast in bed on Sunday morning ("Just to let +you lie as a little change from school, dear child.") and Laetitia's +maid to do her hair! Rosalie immensely im-pressed and Aunt Belle +immensely gratified at Rosalie's awe and appreciation and gratitude. + +A curious manifestation there was of Aunt Belle's attitude in this +regard. On that famous visit to the rectory she had treated every one +like children. Here, in her own house, while Rosalie was still a child, +twelve, thirteen and fourteen, she was treated by Aunt Belle and shown +off to by her much as if she were a grown-up woman. About her servants, +and about prices, and about dress, and about her dinner parties, Aunt +Belle chattered to Rosalie; and about Uncle Pyke, what he liked, and +what he didn't like, and what he did in the City, and what he did at his +club, and about her hosts of friends and their matrimonial experiences, +Aunt Belle chattered to her, confiding in her and telling her all kinds +of things she but dimly understood precisely as if she were a grown-up +young woman. + +Then as Rosalie grew older, sixteen, seventeen and getting on for +eighteen, was reversion by Aunt Belle to the rectory manner. The child +had been treated as a young woman; the budding maiden was treated +precisely as if she were a small child or a small savage to be +entertained by mere sight of the wonders all about her in Pilchester +Square and by having them explained to her in words of one syllable. + +"There, Rosalie," (Rosalie at seventeen) "do you know you're eating with +a solid silver spoon! Feel the weight of it! Balance it in your hand, +dear child. We usually only use this service for our dinner parties and +your uncle Pyke keeps it locked up and carries the key about with him. +Show Rosalie the key, Pyke. But I got it out for you to-day because I +knew you would like to see real solid silver plate. Dear child!" + +Dear thing! Lightly on her, you Brompton Cemetery stones! + +Uncle Pyke never would produce the key or whatever he might be asked to +show. Uncle Pyke would grunt and go on with his soup with enormous noise +as though having a bath in it. Uncle Pyke never spoke at all to Rosalie +on these week-end visits except, always, to put her through examination +on what she was learning at school. Rosalie, though horribly frightened +of Uncle Pyke, always had pretty ready answers to the examination--she +did uncommonly well at school--but there never was from Uncle Pyke +any other mark of appreciation than a grunt. A grunt! Those Pyke-ish, +piggish men! The outstanding characteristic Rosalie came to see in Uncle +Pyke and in the other husbands (his cronies) of Aunt Belle's friends +was that they thought about nothing else but their food, their wine and +their cigars. They disliked having about them anybody who interfered +with their enjoyment of their food, their wine and their cigars. They +were affectionately regarded by their wives as tame, necessary bears to +be fed and warmed and used to sit at the head of the table and awe the +servants. That was what Rosalie saw in them--and shuddered at in them. +Hogs! + +Cousin Laetitia all this time was living at home, attending a very +exclusive and expensive day school. Only twelve girls at beautiful +Laetitia's school and more masters and mistresses than pupils--mostly +"visiting" masters--Italian, French, painting, singing, music, dancing. +Laetitia was about two years older than Rosalie. Very pretty in an +elegant, delicate fashion, and growing up decidedly beautiful in a +sheltered, hothouse, Rossetti type of beauty. Always very affectionate +to Rosalie and glad to see her; not patronising in the way she might +have been patronising and yet, as the two grew older, patronising in a +conscious effort to dissemble a conscious superiority. + +Rosalie never could remember how early in their acquaintance it was she +first understood that the great aim of Laetitia's life, and the great +aim of Aunt Belle's life for Laetitia, was to "make a good match"; but +she seemed to have known it ever since she first heard of Laetitia, +certainly at a point of her childhood when too young exactly to +understand what "good match" meant. Later on, when Laetitia had left +school and was within sight of putting up her hair, "good match" was +openly spoken of by Aunt Belle in her crowded drawing-room or alone in +company of the two girls and Uncle Pyke. + +"And soon dear Laetitia will be making a good match, a splendid match"; +and beautiful Laetitia would faintly colour and faintly smile. + +There began to come to Rosalie, growing older, an acute and an odd +feeling of the physical and mental difference between herself and +beautiful Laetitia--a feeling in Laetitia's company that she was a boy, +a young man, in the company of one most pronouncedly a young woman. +Rosalie was always very plainly dressed by comparison with Laetitia; her +voice was much clearer and sharper, her air very vigorous against an air +very langorous. Her hands used to feel extraordinarily big when she sat +with Laetitia and her wrists extraordinarily bare. She would glance down +at her lap sometimes and could have felt a sense of surprise not to see +trousers on her legs. + +That was how, as they grew older, Rosalie often felt with Laetitia. + +Her last term came. She was nearly eighteen. She was going to earn her +own living. That was decided. Exactly how was not decided; but Rosalie +had decided it. There was an idea that she should remain at the +Sultana's as a junior teacher, but that was not Rosalie's idea. + +"Oh, don't be a schoolmistress, Rosalie," Keggo had said when Rosalie +told of the suggestion (propounded, through the Sultana, by Miss Ough +and warmly endorsed by Aunt Belle and grunted upon by Uncle Pyke). "Oh, +Rosalie, don't be one of us. Don't you see how we are just drifting, +drifting? Don't do anything where you'll just drift, Rosalie." + +"No, I'm not going to drift, Keggo," said Rosalie. (Miss Keggs, in +the little room, had been "Keggo" a long time then.) "I'm not going to +drift. I'm going to have a man's career. I'm going into business! Keggo, +that's the mystery of that book I'm always reading that you're always +asking me about: 'Lombard Street'--Bagehot's 'Lombard Street.' Oh, +Keggo, thrilling." + +She began to tell Keggo her stupendous enterprise.... + +There is in the study of man nothing more curious or more interesting +than the natural bent of an individual mind. An arrow shot to the north +and another from the same bow to the south spring not apart more swiftly +or more opposedly than the minds of two children brought up from one +mother in the same nursery. The natural bent of each impels it. Art this +one, science that; to Joe adventure, to Tom a bookish habit. Rosalie's +natural bent declared itself in "figures"; in the operations, as she +discovered them, of commerce; in the mysterious powers, as they appealed +to her, developed in countinghouses and exerted by countinghouses. The +romance of commerce! A mind double-edged, with inquisitiveness the one +edge and acquisitiveness the other (as certainly Rosalie's) is a sword +double-edged that will cut through the tough shell and into the lively +heart of anything. No more is required than to give the young mind a +glimpse of the lively heart that is there. Rosalie's young mind was +already beating with half-fledged wings against the shell about that +side of life wherein, in her experience, (of her brothers, of Uncle +Pyke, of Uncle Pyke's friends) men did the things that earned them +livelihood and gave them independence. Along, by happy chance, buried in +dust in the rectory study and found one holiday, came "Lombard Street" +and Bagehot, and that was the book and Bagehot was the man to give +pinions to those fledgling wings. She saw romance, and thrusted for +it, in the business of countinghouses. It was fascinating to her beyond +anything the discovery that money was not, as she had always supposed, +a thing that you took with one hand and paid away, and lost, with the +other. Not at all! It was a thing that, properly handled, you never +lost. Enthralling! Thrilling! You invested it and it returned to you; +you expended it and propped it up with fascinating things called sinking +funds, and, although you had spent it, there it was coming back to you +again! It was the most mysterious and wonderful commodity in the world. +She got hold of that and she went on from that. + +The romance of business! That ships should go out across the seas with +one cargo and sell it, not, in effect, for money, but for another and +an entirely different cargo; that cheques passing between countries, and +cheques circulating about the United Kingdom, should be traded off one +against the other in magic conjuring palaces called Clearing Houses with +the result that thousands of little streams merged into few great rivers +and only differences need be paid; that money (heart and driving-force +of all the mysteries) should have within itself the mysterious and +astounding quality of ceaselessly reduplicating itself--"the only thing +in the world," as Rosalie quaintly put it to Miss Keggs--"the only thing +m the world that people, business people, will take care of for you +without charging you for storage or for trouble"--that these mysterious +and extraordinary things should be thrilled Rosalie as the mysterious +and extraordinary things of science or of nature or the mysterious +and beautiful things of art or of literature or of music will thrill +another. + +That natural bent of her mind! That Bagehot that ministered to +her natural bent! Fascinated by Banks, fascinated by the Exchange, +fascinated by the Pool of London, where, obedient to the behests of +the counting-houses, floated the wealth that the countinghouses made, +fascinated by these was Rosalie as maidens of her years commonly are +fascinated by palaces, by the Tower and by the Abbey. Remember, it is +not what their eyes see that fascinates these romantic young misses. A +dolt can see the Tower walls and see no more than crumbling bricks and +stone. It is what their minds see that fascinates the ardent creatures. +Well, Rosalie's mind saw strange romance in countinghouses. + +That Bagehot! + +And then must be picked up--and were with time picked up--others of the +magic man's enchantments. "Literary Studies," but she passed over that, +the burning subject was not there. "Economic Studies"; it much was +there. "International Coinage." She read that! It approached the subject +of a Universal Money and her thought was, "Why, what a splendid idea +to have one coinage that would go everywhere!" And then, opening a new +field, and yet a connected field and a field profoundly engrossing to +her, "The English Constitution." How laws came; how laws worked; the +mysteriousness (her word) within the Council chambers that produced +governance as the mysteriousness within the countinghouses produced +wealth! The mysterious quality within precedent and necessity and change +that reproduced itself in laws as the mysterious quality within money +caused money to reproduce itself in wealth; the romance of governance. + +It was like that that her interests were shaping. + +It was very easy, it was utterly delightful, to tell all this to Keggo. +It was not at all easy, it was very terrible, to tell it before Uncle +Pyke. It was appalling, it was terrific, to break to the house in +Notting Hill that she desired to earn her living, not as a teacher, but +in business--like men. + +It was at dinner at the glittering table in the splendid dining-room of +the magnificent house in Notting Hill, Rosalie there on the half-term +week-end of her last term, that the frightful thing was done. At dinner: +Uncle Pyke Pounce bathing in his soup; beautiful Laetitia elegantly +toying with hers; Aunt Belle beaming over her solid silver spoon at +Rosalie. "Try that soup, dear child. It's delicious. My cook makes such +delicious soups. Lady Houldsworth Hopper--Sir Humbo Houldsworth Hopper, +you know he's in the India Office, you must have heard of him--was +dining with us last week and said she had never tasted such delicious +soup. It was the same as this. I asked cook specially to make it for +you. Now next term, when you are one of the mistresses at Oakwood House +and living at their table and you have soup, you'll be able to say--for +you must speak up when you are with them, dear child, and not be +shy--you'll be able to tell them what delicious soup you always get at +your Uncle Colonel Pyke Pounce's. Be sure to mention your Uncle by name, +Colonel Pyke Pounce, R.E., not just 'my uncle,' and that he was a great +deal in India where he was entirely responsible for the laying of the +Puttapong Railway and received an illuminated address from the Rajah +of Puttapongpoo, such a fine old fellow, not being allowed of course to +take a present, which you have seen many times hanging in his study in +his fine house in Pilchester Square, Notting Hill (some of them are +sure to have heard of Pilchester Square, though never visited there, of +course); your uncle will show you the address again after dinner; that +will be nice, won't it, dear? Won't you, Pyke?" + +(F-r-r-r-r-r-rup! from the splendid holder of the illuminated address +from the Rajah of Puttapongpoo, bathing in his soup.) + +"Be sure to speak up for yourself like that, dear child, and let them +know who you are and that though you are poor and have to earn your +living, you have wealthy relations (though of course we are only +comfortably off and do not pretend to be rich) and are not at all like +ordinary governesses. Be sure to, dear. There; now you've finished that +soup and wasn't it delicious, just? You will have another helping, I +know you will. A second helping of soup is not usual, dear, and Laetitia +or any one at any of our parties would never take it, but it's quite +different for you, and I do love to see you enjoy the nice food I get +for you. More soup for Miss Aubyn, Parker." + +Now for it! + +"Aunt, I won't have any more soup. I won't really. It was delicious. +Delicious, but really no more. Really. Aunt.... About the governesses +there and being one of them. I wanted to say... Aunt, I don't want to be +a pupil-teacher. Aunt..." + +Fr-r-r-r-rup! Frr-r-roosh! Woosh! Fr-r-r-roosh! + +It is the holder of the illuminated address from the Rajah of +Puttapongpoo most terribly and fear-strikingly struggling up out of his +soup. "Don't want to be a pupil teacher? Wat d'ye mean? Wat d'ye mean?" + +"Why, Rosalie, darling!" It is the exquisitely beautiful daughter of the +holder of the illuminated address from the Rajah of Puttapongpoo. + +"Never mind them, Rosalie. The dear child! Why, how crimson she is. Let +the dear child speak. What is it, dear child?" It is kind Aunt Belle. + +"Aunt Belle. Aunt Belle, I don't want to earn my living like that. +I want to earn it like--like a man. I want to--well, it's hard to +explain--to go to an office like a man--and have my pay every week, like +a man--and have a chance to get on like men, like a man. I want to go +into the City if I possibly could, or start in some way like going into +the City. I know it sounds awful--telling it to you--but girls are doing +it, a few. They're just secretaries and clerks, of course. They're just +nothing, of course. But, oh, it's something, and I do want it so. To +have office hours and a--a desk--and a--an employer and be--be like men. +I don't mean, I don't mean a bit, imitate men like all that talk there +is now about imitating men. I hate women in stiff collars and shirts +and ties and mannishness like that; and indeed I hate--I dislike men--I +can't stand them, not in that way, if you understand what I mean--" + +".Rosalie!" (Laetitia.) + +"Oh, Laetitia, oh, Aunt Belle, I'm only saying that to show I don't mean +I want to be--. It is so fearfully difficult to explain, this. But Aunt, +you do see what I am trying to mean. It's just a man's work that I mean +because I'd love it and because I don't see why--. And it's just that +particular kind of work--in the City. Because I believe, I do believe, +I would be sharp and good at that work. Figures and things. I love +that. I'm quick at that, very quick. And I've read heaps about it--about +business I mean--about--" + +Uncle Pyke Pounce. Uncle Pyke Pounce, holding his breath because he is +holding his exasperation as one holds one's breath in performance of a +delicate task. Uncle Pyke Pounce crimson, purply blotched, infuriated, +kept from his food, blowing up at last at the parlour-maid: "Bring in +the next course! Bring in the next course! Watyer staring at? Watyer +waiting for? Watyer listening to? Rubbish. Pack of rubbish." + +The parlour-maid flies out on the gust of the explosion. Rosalie +finishes her sentence while the gust inflates again. + +"Read heaps about it--about business--about trade and finance and that. +It fascinates me." + +The gust explodes at her. + +"Wat d'yer mean read about it? Read about what?" + +"Uncle, about money, about finance and things. I know it's extraordinary +I should like such things. But I do. I can't tell why. It's like--like a +romance to me, all about money and how it is made and managed. There's +a book I found in father's study at home. 'Lombard Street' by Bagehot. +That's all about it, isn't it? I can't tell you how I have read it and +reread it." + +"Never heard of it. 'Lombard Street?' Bagehot? Who's Bagehot?" + +"I think he was a banker, Uncle." + +"I think he was a fool!" + +It comes out of the red and swollen face of the holder of the +illuminated address from the Rajah of Puttapongpoo like a plum-stone +spat at her across the table. Rosalie blinked. These beastly men! +Violent, vulgar, fat, rude beasts! Uncle Pyke the worst of them! But she +came back bravely from her flinch. "If he wasn't a banker, he knew all +about banking. Oh, that's what I would be more than anything--that's +what I do want to be--a banker--in a bank!" + +The holder of the illuminated address from the Rajah of Puttapongpoo as +if, having expectorated the plum-stone, he desired to expectorate also +the taste thereof, spat out an obscene sound of contempt and disgust. +"Fah! I say the man, whoever he was, was a fool. And I say this, Miss. I +don't often speak sharply, but I say that I think I know another fool--a +little fool--at this table. Pah! Enough of it! What's this? Trout?" + +Aunt Belle to the rescue! If Uncle Pyke and Aunt Belle had kept house in +Seven Dials instead of Notting Hill, Uncle Pyke would have beaten Aunt +Belle and Aunt Belle would have taken the blows without flinching and +then have wheedled Uncle Pyke with drops of gin. As it was, Uncle +Pyke was merely boorish or torpidly savage towards Aunt Belle and Aunt +Belle's way with him--as with all combative men--was to rally him with a +kind of boisterous chaff and to discharge it at him as an urchin with an +armful of snowballs fearfully discharges them at an old gentleman in a +silk hat: backing away, that is to say, before an advance and advancing +before a retreat. Uncle Pyke usually retreated, either to eat or sleep. + +Aunt Belle had blinked, as Rosalie had blinked, at that horrible +epithet "Little fool!" across the table. The lips that uttered it were +immediately stuffed with trout and Aunt Belle immediately rushed in in +her rallying way to the rescue. "Why, you great, big stupid Uncle Pyke!" +cried Aunt Belle vivaciously. "It's you who don't know what you're +talking about, you unkind old thing, you. Why, many, many girls, quite +nice girls, are going into business now and being secretaries and things +and doing very, very well indeed. Why, I declare it would do you good to +have a lady secretary yourself in that big, dusty office of yours in the +City, never dusted from one year's end to another, I'm sure! Laetitia, +wouldn't it do your father good, the cross, grumpy old thing? Give your +master some more of the sauce, Parker. Isn't that trout delicate and +nice, Pyke? Trout for a pike! And I'm sure very like a nasty, savage old +pike the way you tried to gobble up poor Rosalie, the dear child. Now, +Rosalie, dear child, I think that's a very, very good idea of yours to +go into business. I think it's a splendid idea, and more and more quite +nice girls will soon be doing it. Now we'll just see what we can do and +we'll make that cross old uncle help and ask all his cross old friends +in the City, just to punish him. A young Lady Clerk, or a young Lady +Secretary! Now I think that's the very, very thing for you. Just the +thing, and a dear, clever child to think of it. Yes!" + +Kind, kind Aunt Belle! Victory through Aunt Belle! Accomplishment! A +career like a man! Aunt Belle had said it and Aunt Belle would do it! A +career like a man! Oh, ecstatic joy! "Lombard Street" had been brought +with her in her week-end suitcase. Directly she could get to bed +she rushed up to it and took it out and read, and read. It was all +underlined. She underlined it more that happy, happy night! + +Ah, never underline a book till you are forty. Never memorialise what +you were, your lovely innocence, your generous heart, your ardent hopes, +lest the memorial be found one day by what you have become. Rosalie, +finding that "Lombard Street," unearthed from lumber, in long after +years, turned over the pages and from the pages ghosts rushed up and +filled the room, and filled the air, and filled her heart, and filled +her eyes; and she rent the book across its perished binding and pushed +it from her with both her hands on to the fire and on to the flames in +the fire. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Incredibly soon, so stealthy swift is time, came this last term of +Rosalie's at the Sultana's. Time does not play an open game. It's of the +cloak and dagger sort. It stalks and pounces. Rosalie was astonished +to think she was leaving; and now the time had come she was sorry to be +going. Not very sorry; very excited; but having just enough regret to +realise, on looking back, that she had been very happy at school and to +realise, actively, happiness in this last term. One knows what it is. +It's always like that. One always was happy; one so seldom is. Happiness +to be realised needs faint perception of sadness as needs the egg the +touch of salt to manifest its flavour. Flashes of entertainment may +enliven the most wretched of us; but that's pleasure; that's not +happiness. One comes to know the only true and ideal happiness is +happiness tinctured with faintest, vaguest hint of tears. It is peace; +and who knows peace that has not come to it through storm, or knoweth +storm ahead, or in storm past hath not lost one that would have shared +this peace? + +So that girl's last term was (in her words) "tremendously jolly." She +was just eighteen, and she was leaving, and responsive to this the +harness of the school was drawn off her as at the paddock gate the +headstall from a colt. She was out of lessons. She did some teaching of +the younger girls. She was on terms with the mistresses. She had the run +of Keggo's room. + +Such talks in Keggo's room.... She was out from the cove of childhood; +she was into the bay of youth; breasting towards the sea of womanhood +(that sea that's sailed by stars and by no chart); and she was +encountering tides that come to young mariners to perplex them and Keggo +could talk about such things with the experience that so enraptures +young mariners and of which young mariners are at the same time so +confidently contemptuous, so superiorly sceptical. Nearer to press the +simile, youth at the feet of experience is as one, experienced, climbing +a mountain with the young thing panting behind. "Go on! Go on!" pants +the growing young thing. "This is ripping. Go on. Show the way. But I +don't want your hand. I can do it easily by myself--better." And one +evening while Rosalie stumblingly explained, and eagerly received, and +sceptically doubted, "But look here, Keggo," she cried, and stopped and +blushed, abashed at her use of the nickname. + +Miss Keggs laughed. "Don't mind, Rosalie. Call me Keggo. I like it. It's +much more friendly. I'm very fond of you, Rosalie." + +They were by the oil stove, Miss Keggs in her wicker armchair, Rosalie +on the floor, her back propped against Miss Keggs's knees. One of Miss +Keggs's hands was on Rosalie's shoulder and she moved it to touch the +girl's face. "Are you fond of me, Rosalie?" + +Rosalie turned towards her and spoke impulsively. "Oh, awfully--Keggo." + +The woman stooped and kissed the growing young thing, hugging her +strongly, pressing her lips upon the lips of Rosalie with a great +intensity. "Oh, I shall be sorry when you go, Rosalie." + +"We can still be friends, Keggo dear." + +Miss Keggs shook her head. "Ships that pass in the night." + +"O Keggo!" + +Miss Keggs smiled, a wintry smile. "O Rosalie!" she mimicked. She +sighed. "Oh, my dear, it's true--true! Don't you remember how the lines +go-- + + + 'Ships that pass in the night and speak each other in passing; + Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness.' + + +Just remember that in a few years. You'll hail again perhaps. 'O Keggo!' +Or I--it is more likely--wilt hail 'O Rosalie!' Just remember it then." +Her hand came down to Rosalie and Rosalie took it. It was so cold; and +on her face a strained and beaten look as though hand and face belonged +to one that stood most chilled and storm-beat upon the bridge, peering +through the storm. Her fingers made no motion responsive to Rosalie's +warm touch. She said strangely, as though it was to herself she spoke, +"Does it mean anything to you, Rosalie, a vision like that? Can you +see a black and violent night and a ship going by full speed, and one +labouring, and through the wind and the blackness a hail.--and gone, and +the wreck left foundering?" + +Ah, that most generous and quickly moved and loving-Rosalie--then! How +she twisted to her knees and stretched her arms about that poor Keggo, +sitting there--so drooped! How readily into her eyes her young and warm +and ardent sympathies pressed the tears, their flowers! How warm her +words? How warmly spoken! "O Keggo! Keggo, dear! Keggo, why do you talk +like that? How can you? After all the kindness you've shown me, accusing +me that I'll forget and not mind. Keggo, you shan't. You mustn't." + +Then Keggo responded, catching her arms about Rosalie and straining +Rosalie to her as though here was some cable to hold against the driving +sea. "O Rosalie!" + +And after a little Rosalie said, "You won't again say I ever shall +forget, or hail and pass by. Oh, that was cruel, Keggo!" + +Keggo was gently crying. "Natural. Natural." + +"Unnatural. Horrible. And you? Why do you say such things about +yourself? You didn't mean it? It's nothing? How can you ever be a wreck, +foundering?" + +Keggo dried her eyes and by her voice seemed to put those things right +away. "No, nothing. Of course not. Darling girl, only this--you're +young--young and so of course you are going by full sail as young things +do. Full sail! O happy ship! Rosalie, go on telling. Go on asking. I +love it, Rosalie." + +She was always "Keggo" after that; and the things that Rosalie told and +asked! + +Such things! It is to be seen that now there were bursting into blossom +out of bud within that Rosalie those seeds planted in her by the +extraordinary ideas of her childhood. About men. First and always +predominating, about men as compared with women--their wonder, their +power, their importance, their infinite superiority; then about men in +their relations with women--their rather grand and noisy ways that made +Rosalie blink; their interfering presence that spoilt lessons and spoilt +walks; those sinister attributes of theirs, arising somehow out of their +freedom to do as they liked in the world, that somehow left the world +very hard for women. Grotesque ideas, but masterful ideas, masterfully +shaping the child mind wherein they germinated; burrowing in clutchy +roots; pressing up in strong young saplings. Agreed the child is father +of the man, but much more the girl is mother of the woman. It is the +man's part to sow and ride away; conception is the woman's office and +that which she receives she tends to cherish and incorporate within her. +Of her body that function is her glory; of her mind it is her millstone. +Man always rides away, a tent dweller and an Arab, with a horse and with +the plains about him; woman is a dweller in a city with a wall, a house +dweller, storing her possessions about her in her house, abiding with +them, not to be sundered from them. + +So with that Rosalie. Those childhood ideas of hers were grotesque ideas +but she had received them into her house and they remained with her, +shorn of their grotesqueness, as garish furniture may be upholstered +in a new pattern, but tincturing her life as the appointments of a +room will influence the mood of one that sits therein. Father owned the +world--all males had proprietorship in the world under father--all +men were worshipful and giants and genii. That was the established +perception and those its earliest images. The perception remained, +deepening, changing only in hue, as a viscid liquid solidifies and +darkens in a vessel over the fire. It remained, persisted. Time but +steadied the focus as the wise oculist, seeking for his patient the +perfect image, drops lenses in the frame through which the vision +chart is viewed. In a little the perfect image is found. There was that +Rosalie, come to maidenhood, come to the dizzy edge of leaving school, +with the perfect image of her persistent obsession; with the belief no +longer that men were magicians having the world for their washpot and +women for their footstool, but unquestionably that they "had a better +time" than women and that they secured this "better time" by virtue of +their independence. + +"And, Keggo," (she is explaining it) "I'm going to be like that. I'm +going to be what a man can be. Why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't a woman?" +She paused and then went on. "Why, that's the thing that's been with me +all my life, ever since I can remember. I've always known that men were +the creatures. Always. Since I was so high. Oh, I used to have the most +ridiculous ideas about them. You'd scream, Keggo. And I've always had +the same attitude towards them--towards them as contrasted with women, I +mean. First awe, then envy, then, since I've been growing up here, just +as having a desirable position in life, as having the desirable position +in life, independence, a career, work, freedom, a goal--yes, and a goal +that's always and always a little bit in front of you, always something +better. That's the thing. That's the thing, Keggo. Just look at the +other side. Take a case in point. Take my painful cousin, Laetitia, +sweet but in lots of ways very painful. What's her goal? A good match! +A good match! Did you ever hear anything so futile and sickening? +Sickening in itself, but I'll tell you what's really sickening about +it--why, that she'll get it--get her goal and then it's done, over, +finished, won. Settle down then and get fat. Oh, I don't want a goal I +can win. I want a goal I can't win. One that's always just in front." + +She suddenly realised the intensity of her voice and laughed and shook +her head sideways and back. She had just recently put her hair up and +it still felt funny and tight and the laugh and the shake eased away +the tightness of voice and of hair. She said thoughtfully, "You know, +I believe I'm rather like a man in many ways, in points of view. It's +through always thinking them better, I daresay. The ideas I've had about +them!" and she laughed again. She said slowly, "Though mind you, Keggo, +they are better in many ways. They can get away from things. They don't +stick about on one thing. And they're violent, not fussing. When they're +angry they bawl and hit and it's over and they forget it. They don't +just nag on and on. Oh, yes, they're better." + +She extended her palms to the oil flame, and watching the X-ray-like +effects of the light and shadow upon her fingers, she added +indifferently, as one idly letting drop a remark requiring no comment, +negligently with the voice of one saying "Tomorrow is Tuesday," or "It's +mutton today,"--"Of course they're beasts," she added. + +"Of course they're beasts." It was the adjusted image to which she had +brought that other perception of men which, running parallel with the +perception of their superior position, had permeated her childhood +years. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +She's left the school! She's living in the splendid house in Pilchester +Square looking for a post! + +She's found a post! She's private secretary to Mr. Simcox! + +She's left the splendid house in Pilchester Square! She's living an +independent life! She's going to Mr. Simcox's office, her office, every +day, just like a man! She's living on her own salary in a boarding house +in Bayswater! + +What jumps! One clutches, as at flying papers in a whirlwind, at a +stable moment in which to pin her down and describe her as she jumps. +One can't. The thing's too breathless. It's a maelstrom. It's an +earthquake. It's a deluge. It's a boiling pot. It's youth. What it must +be to live it! One thing pouring on to another so that it's impossible +anywhere to pick hold of a bit that isn't changing into something else +even as it is examined. That's youth all over. Always and all the time +all change. What it must be to live it! + +What it must be! Why, when youth comes bursting out of tutelage there's +not a stable thing beneath its feet nor above its head a sky that stays +the same for two hours together! Every stride's a stepping-stone that +tilts and throws you; every dawn a sudden midnight even while it breaks, +and every night a blinding brilliance when it's darkest. New faces, new +places, new dresses, new dishes; new foes, new friends; new tasks, new +triumphs; never a pause, never a platform; every day a year and every +year a day--not life on a firm round world but life in the heart of a +whirling avalanche. How youth can live it! And all the time, all the +time while poor, dear youth is hurtling through it, there's age, instead +of streaming sympathy like oil upon those boiling waters, standing +in slippered safety, in buttoned dignity, in obese repose, bawling at +tumbling youth, "Why can't you settle down! Why can't you settle down! +Why do you behave like that? Why can't you do as I do? Why can't you +be like your wise and sober Uncle Forty? Or like your good and earnest +Auntie Fifty? Why can't you behave like your pious grandmother? Why +can't you imitate your noble grandfather? Oh, grrrr-r, why can't you, +you impious, unnatural, ill-mannered, irresponsive, irresponsible +exasperating young nuisance, you!" Is it any wonder poor youth bawls +back, or feels and behaves like bawling back, "How to goodness can I +behave like my infernal uncle or my maddening aunt when I'm whirling +along head over heels in the middle of a roaring avalanche?" + +Oh, poor youth, that all have lived but none remembers! + +One clings, faut au mieux, to the intention to tell of her life only +the things in her life that contributed to her record, as records are +judged. There shall be enormous omissions. They shall be excused by +vital insertions. + +She shall be glimpsed, first, in the splendid house in Pilchester +Square, in the desperate business that getting a place for a woman in a +business house was when women were in business houses far more rare +than are silk hats in the City in 1922. It was desperate. Uncle Pyke +and Uncle Pyke's friends were the only channel of opportunity; and Uncle +Pyke and Uncle Pyke's friends refused to be a channel of opportunity. +They had never heard of such a thing and they desired to bathe in their +soup and smack over their wine and not be troubled with such a thing. + +Aunt Belle rallied them and baited them and told them they were "great +big grumpy things"; and Aunt Belle, in her crowded drawing-room, loved +talking about the search for work and did talk about it. "Has to earn +her own living," Aunt Belle would chatter, "and is going into business! +Oh, yes, ever so many girls who have to earn their own living are going +into business now. She'll wear a nice tailormade coat and skirt and +carry a little satchel and flick about on the tops of buses, in the City +at nine and out again at six and a nice plain wholesome lunch with a +glass of milk in a tea shop. Oh, it's wonderful what girls who have to +earn their own living do nowadays. Quite right, you know. Quite right, +(for them). Come over here, Rosalie. Come over here, dear child, and +tell Mrs. Roodle-Hoops what you are going to do. The dear child!" + +But nothing done. + +Just that glimpse and then comes Mr. Simcox. + +Mr. Simcox was first met by Rosalie while walking with Aunt Belle and +beautiful cousin Laetitia in the Cromwell Road. He came along carrying +a letter in his hand with the obvious air of one who will forget to post +it if he puts it in his pocket and probably will forget to do so in +any case. He was as obviously "a man of about fifty-six" that curiously +precise figure, neither a ten nor a five, always used for men who look +as Mr. Simcox looked and always continued to look while Rosalie knew +him, and probably always had looked. Men of "about fifty-six"--one +never says "about thirty-six" or "about sixty-six"; it would be "about +thirty-five" or "about seventy"--men of "about fifty-six" are almost +certainly born at that age and with that appearance and they seem to +continue in it to their graves. + +Mr. Simcox was like that, and was short and had two little bunchy grey +whiskers, and wore always a pepper and salt jacket suit, unbuttoned, the +pockets of which always bulged and the skirts of which, containing +the pockets, always swayed and flapped. When he talked he was always +talking--if that is understood--and when he was busy he was always +frantically busy and looking at the clock or at his watch as if it were +going to explode at a certain rapidly approaching hour and he must at +all costs be through with what he was doing before it did explode. He +talked in very rapid jerks, always seeming to be about to come to rest +and then instantaneously bounding off again, rather like a man bounding +along stepping-stones, red-hot stepping-stones that each time burnt his +feet and set him flying off again. + +He had been in the Bombay house of a firm of indigo merchants and there +had known Aunt Belle and Uncle Pyke. He had retired and settled in +London and he now came very briskly up to Aunt Belle, to Rosalie and +to beautiful Laetitia, greeting them and bursting into full stream of +chatter while he was yet some distance away; and, having been introduced +to Rosalie and snatched at her hand precisely as if doing so while +shooting in midair between one red-hot stepping-stone and the next, +whizzed presently to "I really came out to post a letter" and flapped +the letter in the air as if it were a bothersome thing stuck to his +fingers and refusing absolutely to be stuffed into a post-box. + +"Why, there's a pillar-box just there; you've just passed it," cried +Rosalie. + +"Why, so there is!" exclaimed Mr. Simcox, jumping round to stare at +the pillar-box as if it had stretched out an arm and given him a sudden +punch in the back, and then spinning towards Rosalie and staring at her +rather as if he suspected her of having put the pillar-box there while +he was not looking; and while Mr. Simcox was so exclaiming and so doing +Rosalie had said, "Do let me just post it for you. Do let me," and had +snapped the obstinate letter from his fingers, and posted it and was +back again smiling at Mr. Simcox, whom she rather liked and who reminded +her very much of a jack-in-the-box. + +Indeed with his quick ways, his shortness, his bushy little grey +whiskers and his pepper and salt suit with its flapping pockets, Mr. +Simcox was very like one of those funny little jack-in-the-boxes they +used to sell. He said to her, regarding her with very apparent pleasure +and esteem, "Well, that's very nice of you. That really is very nice +of you. And it's most wonderful. It is indeed. Do you know, I must have +walked more than a mile looking for a letter-box and I daresay I should +have walked another mile and then forgotten it and taken the letter home +again." He addressed Aunt Belle: "It's a most astonishing thing, Mrs. +Pyke Pounce, but I cannot post a letter. I positively cannot post a +single letter. When I say single, I do not mean I can post no letter at +all. No, no. Far from it. I mean I can post no letter singly, by itself, +solus. My daily correspondence, my office batch, I take out in a bundle, +perhaps in a table basket. That is simple. But a single letter--as you +see, a clever young lady like this has to find a box for me or I +might carry the thing for days together. Astonishing that, you +know. Astonishing, annoying, and mind you, sometimes serious and +embarrassing." + +"Why, you busy, busy person, you!" cried Aunt Belle with her customary +air towards a man of shaking her finger at him. "You very busy person! +Fancy a basket full of correspondence! Why what a heap you must have!" + +Mr. Simcox said he had indeed a heap. "Sometimes I think more than I can +manage." + +"Indeed," agreed Aunt Belle, "you don't seem to have much time to spare. +Why, I haven't seen you in my drawing-room for quite a month ("You busy +little creature, you," expressed without being stated). I expect you're +getting very rich and disagreeable." ("You rich little rascal, you!") + +Mr. Simcox declared that as to that his business wasn't one to get rich +at. "In no sense. Oh, no, in no sense. It keeps me occupied. It gives +me an interest. That's all. No more than that." As to Mrs. Pyke Pounce's +delightful drawing-room, most certainly he had been there less than a +month ago and most certainly he would present himself again on the +very next opportunity. To-morrow, was it? He would without fail present +himself there tomorrow, "and I hope," said Mr. Simcox, taking his leave, +"I hope I may have the pleasure of seeing my postmistress there again." +He smiled very cordially at Rosalie and went flapping away up the street +at the pace and with the air, not of one who had come out to post a +letter and had posted it, but of one who had come out to post a letter, +had dropped it, and was flying back to look for it. + +"Oh, isn't he an ugly little monster!" cried Aunt Belle, resuming the +walk. + +"But I think he's nice," said Rosalie. "What is his business, Aunt +Belle?" + +Aunt Belle hadn't an idea. "He's an agent," said Aunt Belle, "but an +agent for what I'm sure I don't know. He's a very mysterious, fussy, +funny little person. We knew him in Bombay where he had a very good +position, but he retired and what he does now I'm sure I can't say. But +he's very busy. You heard him say how busy he is. Rosalie, he might know +of something for you. We'll ask him, dear child. The funny, ugly little +monster! We'll ask him. He might help." + +He did help. A very short while afterwards, Rosalie received the +appointment of Private Secretary to Mr. Simcox; twenty-five shillings +a week; one pound five shillings a week! Office hours ten to five! +Saturdays ten to one! Holiday a fortnight a year! A man's work! A man's +weekly salary! A man's office hours! The ecstasy of it! The ecstasy! + +The matter with Mr. Simcox was that, in India a man of affairs, in +England he found himself a man of no affairs and a man who had "lost +touch." On a leave from the Bombay house of the indigo firm he had been +prevailed upon by his mother and his maiden sister to remain at home and +look after them and he had done it and gone on doing it, and they had +died and he had never married, and he had now no relatives, and by +this and by that (as he told Rosalie early in her installation) he had +dropped out of friendships and, as he expressed it "lost touch." He +owned and occupied one of those enormous houses in Bayswater. It had +been his mother's and he lived on in it after her death and the death +of his sister, alone with a housekeeper. The housekeeper resided in the +vast catacombs of the basement of the enormous house; Mr. Simcox resided +in the immense reception rooms, miles above, of the first floor; the +three suites above him, scowling gloomily across a square at the twin +mausoleums opposite, were unoccupied and un-visited; on the first floor +Mr. Simcox had his office. The business done in this office, which +Rosalie was now to assist, and why it was done, was in this wise and was +thus explained to Rosalie. + +Mr. Simcox, more than ever dropped out and more than ever having lost +touch after the deaths of his sister and mother, found himself irked +more than anything else by the absence of correspondence. He had been +accustomed in India to a big receipt of letters--a big dhak, as he +called it, using the Hindustani word--now he received no letters at all; +and he told Rosalie that when you are in the habit of getting a regular +daily post, its gradual falling off and then its complete cessation is +one of the most melancholy things that can befall a man. A nice bunch of +letters in the morning, he said, is like a cold bath to a young man, a +stimulant and an appetiser; and a similar packet by the night delivery +is an entertainment to look forward to from sunset till it arrives and +the finest possible digestive upon which to go to bed. Mr. Simcox found +himself cut off from both these necessities of a congenial life and it +depressed him beyond conception. Dressing in the morning he would hear +the postman come splendidly rat tatting along the square and would hold +his breath for that glorious thunder to come echoing up from his own +front door--and it never did. Only the sound of the footsteps came, +hurrying past--always. + +Set to his solitary dinner in the evening, again would come along that +glorious, reverberating music, and again Mr. Simcox would hold his +breath as it approached and again--! Oh, particularly in the winter, +it was awful, Mr. Simcox told Rosalie. Awful; she wouldn't believe how +awful it was. In the winter, in the dark nights, there is, Mr. Simcox +said, about the sound of the postman banging along the doors something +that is the sheer essence of all the mystery, and all the poetry, and +all the life, and all the comfort, and all the light and all the warmth +in the world. Often on winter nights Mr. Simcox would get up quickly +from the table (He couldn't help it) and go tiptoe (Why tiptoe? He +didn't know. You had to. It was the mystery and the aching atmosphere of +the thing) tiptoe across the room to the window, and draw an inch of +the heavy curtain and peer out into the darkness and towards the music. +There would be the little round gleam of the postman's lantern, bobbing +along as he hurried. And flick! it was gone into a doorway, and rat-tat, +flick, and there it was again--coming! Flick, rat-tat! Flick, flick, +rat-tat! Coming, coming! Growing larger, growing brighter, growing +louder! Next door now. They always get it next door. Flick, rat-tat! +What a crasher! You can feel it echo! Flick! Now then! Now then! How it +gleams! He's stopped! He's looking at his letters! He's coming in! +He is--ah, he's passed; he's gone; it's over; nothing... nothing for +here.... Rat-tat! That's next door. The party wall shakes. The lustres +on the mantelpiece shake. Mr. Simcox's hands shake. He sits down, pushes +his plate away.... + +It is absurd; it is ridiculous, of course it is; but it was pathetic, +it was moving, as it was received from Mr. Simcox by that young and most +warm-hearted Rosalie. Her eyes positively were caused to blink as she +listened. She had an exact vision of that funny little jack-in-the-box +figure up from the table and tiptoeing across the enormous dining +room in his little pepper and salt suit with the pockets swaying, not +flapping, as he trod along, and opening that inch of the heavy curtain +and pressing out his gaze through the black window pane, and watching +the gleam and the flick and then the crash and the gleam again, and then +holding his breath and hearing his heart go thump, and then dropping the +curtain, and back again, with his hands shaking a little and hearing the +lustres tinkle.... + +Yes, very moving to that Rosalie in her youth and warmth. She had +actually to touch her nose (high up, between her eyes) with her +handkerchief and she said, "Oh, Mr. Simcox.... Yes, and then what?" + +"Then what? Ah! 'Then what' is this." They were seated in Mr. Simcox's +great office on the ground floor. The office of a man of many affairs. +A very large writing table furnished with every conceivable facility for +writing, not only note papers and envelopes racked up in half a dozen +sizes, but sealing waxes in several hues, labels, string, "In" basket, +"Out" basket, "Pending Decision" basket, all sorts of pens, all sorts +of pencils, wafers, clips, scales, letter weights, rulers--the +table obviously of a man to whom correspondence was a devotional, an +engrossing, an exact art, and an art practised on an expansive, an +impressive, and a lordly scale. There were also in the office a very +large plain table on which were spread newspapers, a basket containing +clippings from newspapers, an immense blue chalk for marking newspapers +and a very long, also a very short, pair of scissors for cutting out +clippings from newspapers. A range of filing cabinets stood against one +wall; a library of directories and catalogues occupied shelves against +another wall. + +"'Then what' is this," said Mr. Simcox, indicating these impressive +appointments of the room with a wave of his hand. "You ask me 'then +what?' 'Then what' is all this. 'Then what' has grown now to be you. +I'll tell you." + +It was this--the oddest, most eccentric notion (not that Rosalie it +thought so). Mr. Simcox, cut off from letters, had determined that he +must get letters. He would get letters. If the postman would not come of +himself (so to speak) then he must be forced to come. And Mr. Simcox set +about forcing him to come by answering advertisements. Not employment +advertisements; no; the advertisements to which Mr. Simcox re-plied were +the advertisements that offered to send you something for nothing--that +implored you to permit them to send you something for nothing. They +are common objects of the periodical press. Every paper is stuffed with +them. "Write for free samples." "Catalogues." "Trial packet sent +post free on application." "Write for our beautifully illustrated +art brochure." "Descriptive booklet by return." "Write for full +particulars." "Free sample bottle sufficient for seven days' trial." +"Approval gladly. Postpaid." "Plans and particulars of the sole agents." +"Superbly printed art volume on receipt of postcard." + +The advertisement columns of every paper are stuffed with them and soon +the letter-box of Mr. Simcox was stuffed with them. The postman who +never stopped at Mr. Simcox's house now never missed Mr. Simcox's house. +He went on a lighter and a brisker man after having dealt with Mr. +Simcox's house. The agitation with which his approach was heard was +now exchanged for a superb confidence as his approach was heard. The +deliveries that for Mr. Simcox had never been deliveries were now, +not deliveries, but avalanches. They roared into the letter-box of Mr. +Simcox. They cascaded upon the floor of the hall of Mr. Simcox. + +A mail thus composed does not perhaps sound interesting. Mr. Simcox, +once he had got into the full swing of the thing, discovered it to be +profoundly and exhaustively interesting. It possessed in the highest +degree the two primary essentials of a really good mail,--surprise and +variety. There would always be two or three fascinating little parcels, +there would always be two or three handsome packets, there would always +be two or three imposing looking letters. No common correspondence could +possibly have had the number of attractively boxed gifts, the amount of +handsomely printed literary and il-lustrated matter, and certainly not +the unfailing persistency of flow, that constituted the correspondence +of Mr. Simcox. + +The mine once discovered proved to be a mine inexhaustible and +containing lodes or galleries of new and unsuspected wealth. Mr. Simcox +took in but two daily papers, and two penny weekly papers, and they +might well have sufficed. But an appetite whetted and an eye opened +they did not suffice. There thundered from the Bayswater free library a +positive babel of cries from advertisers in the score of journals +there displayed, howling for Mr. Simcox graciously to permit them to +contribute their toll to his letter-box; and there were at the news +agents periodicals catering for every specialised class of the community +and falling over themselves to put before Mr. Simcox the full range +of the mysteries, the luxuries and the necessities of every trade +and profession and pursuit, from shipbuilding to cycling and from +ironmongery to the ownership of castles, moors, steam yachts and salmon +fisheries. + +Mr. Simcox, entirely happy, one of the busiest men that might be found +in the metropolis, struck out new lines. Hitherto he had received his +correspondence interestedly and pleasurably but passively. He began +to take it up actively and sharply. He began to write back, either +graciously approving or very sharply criticising his samples, +his specimens and his free trials; and the advertisers responded +voluminously, either abjectly with regret and enclosing further samples +for Mr. Simcox's esteemed trial, or abjectly with delight and soliciting +the very great favour of utilising Mr. Simcox's esteemed letter for +publicity purposes. This, however, Mr. Simcox, courteously but firmly, +invariably refused to permit. + +The engagement of Rosalie was a development of Mr. Simcox's hobby as +natural as the development of any other hobby from rabbit breeding to +china collecting. The craze intensifies, the scope is enlarged. To have +a secretary made Mr. Simcox's mail and the work that produced his mail +even more real than already it had become to him. Following up the +personal touch that had been discovered by the criticism of samples, +Mr. Simcox had opened up a line that produced the personal touch in +most intimate degree: personal touch with schools and with insurance +companies. He created for himself sons, daughters, nephews, nieces, +wards. He endowed them, severally, with ages, with backwardness, with +brilliancy, with robustness, with delicacy, with qualities that were +immature and required development, with absence of qualities that +were desirable and required implanting, with unfortunate tendency to +qualities that were undesirable and needed repression and nipping in the +bud. He placed these children, thus handicapped or endowed, before +the principals of selected schools; he desired that terms and full +particulars might be placed before him to assist him in the anxious task +of right selection. They were placed before him. "Your backward nephew +Robin" (to take a single example) engaged the personal attention of +preparatory schoolmasters from Devonshire to Cumberland and from Norfolk +to Carnarvon. Similarly with insurance companies. Again dependents +and friends were created, by the dozen, by Mr. Simcox. Male and female +created he them, cumbered with all imaginable risks, and darkly brooding +upon all manner of contingencies; and male and female, cumbered and +perplexed, they were studied and advised upon by insurance companies +earnest beyond measure to show Mr. Simcox what astounding and +unparalleled benefits could be obtained for them. + +At the time when Rosalie joined him, Mr. Simcox's attention was in much +greatest proportion devoted to this development of his pursuit. Under +the instruction of a friend, long since dropped out and lost, who had +held a considerable position in a leading assurance company, he had +acquired a sound working knowledge of the principles and mysteries of +insurance. The subject had greatly interested him. In the phrase he used +to Rosalie he had "taken it up"; and in the phrase that so often sequels +and rounds off a thing suddenly "taken up" he had suddenly "dropped it." +He now, by way of the new development of his correspondence, approached +it again. It received him as a former habitation receives a returned +native. Mr. Simcox (if the metaphor may be pursued) roamed all about +the familiar rooms and corridors of the house of the principles and +mysteries of insurance. His knowledge of its possibilities enabled him +to develop an astonishing ingenuity in creating cases ripe and yearning +for the benefits of provision against contingencies, and as he very +easily was able to prove to Rosalie, and found immense delight in +proving, he had under his finger, that is to say in his exquisitely +arranged filing cabinets, also in his head, a range of insurance +companies' literature which enabled him to work out for any conceivable +case the most suitable office or offices and the finest possible cover +for his risks. "Different companies specialize," said Mr. Simcox, "in +different classes of risk. A man should no more walk into one of the +leading offices just because it happens to be one of the leading offices +and there take out his policy or policies than he should walk into and +take for occupation the first vacant house he sees, merely because it +is, as a house, a good house. It may be a most excellent house but it +may not be in the least the house most suitable to his requirements." + +Rosalie nodded intelligently. "But how is a man to find out, Mr. +Simcox?" + +"Why, I suppose only by going round to every company and choosing the +best, just as I make out and send around these cases of mine. But of +course no one does that--the trouble for one thing, and ignorance for +another, and inability to realise their real requirements and to state +them clearly if they do realise them for a third. That's what it is." + +Rosalie's intelligent nodding had not ceased. She had a trick, when Mr. +Simcox was explaining things to her, of maintaining, with eyes fixed +widely upon him, a slow, affirmative movement of her head rather as +though she were some engine, and her head the dial, absorbing power +from a flow of energy. The dial never indicated repletion. Mr. Simcox +delighted to talk to Rosalie, to watch that grave movement of her head, +and to hear the short occasional "Why's?" and comments that came like +little spurts or quivers as of the engine in initial throbbings pulsing +the power it stored. + +She was absorbing power. The months were going on. The earlier +initiation into Mr. Simcox's business might have had a tinge of +disappointment were it not that, whatever the nature of her work, +manifestly work it was, paid for, with regular hours, with an office to +attend, such as a man might do. The tinge of disappointment, if she +had suffered it, would have stung out of the thought: Where, in this +manufactured correspondence, in this pretence at a business which was in +fact no business at all, where in all this was Lombard Street? Where the +romance and mystery of finance? Where the touch with the power that was +made in countinghouses and with the exercise of the power exerted from +those countinghouses? + +But it happened for Rosalie, first, that this thought could not come +because she was too busy with the glorious novelty of being in an office +and learning office ways; then, when the novelty had worn, that it could +not come because a new and a real element arrived to nullify it. In the +early days there was no realisation of sham because there was the real +business, to herself, of learning business methods and the whole theory +and practice of office routine. She could have had no better instructor +than Mr. Simcox, she could have had no better training than the +handling, the sorting and the filing of his curious and various +correspondence. She had become an efficient and a singularly apt and +keen office clerk when, more leisured because she had mastered her +duties, she might first have had time for realisation that Lombard +Street was not here nor all the romance and mystery with which she had +invested the power of countinghouses within a thousand miles of this +house of most elaborate pretence. And then, at once to prevent that +realisation and to dissipate its cause, came Lombard Street to her in +Mr. Simcox's new absorption in (to her) the mysteries and the romance +and the astounding possibilities of the business of insurance. How the +mammoth companies, whose names soon were as household words to +Rosalie, accumulated their enormous funds and invested them; how, while +provisioning for to-day, they must calculate against liabilities falling +due in a to-morrow generations ahead; how they would put their money +into property the leases of which would fall in and the estate become +marketable again perhaps a hundred years hence, when officers of +the company yet unborn would be looking to the prudence of those now +reigning to maintain the inflowing tide; how risks were calculated and +vital statistics and chances and averages studied--all this, delightedly +and delightfully narrated by Mr. Simcox (watching that gravely nodding +head and those wide intelligent eyes) was sheer fascination to the +mind that had found romance and mystery in "Lombard Street" as commonly +romance and mystery are found in poetry and music. + +Then one day she took a step towards applying the fascination that she +found. + +It was the day of the conversation that has been recorded. How, Rosalie +had asked, was the seeker after insurance to find the policies best +suited to his case? Rosalie had asked; and had been told--he must go +round but he never does; he must know what there is to be had but he +never does know; he must realise exactly what he really wants but he +never does realise it; and if he does realise it he must be able to +state it clearly but he never can state it clearly. + +Mr. Simcox, detailing this, permitted himself an amused contempt. The +public were ignoramuses, mere children; they knew nothing whatever about +insurance. + +Rosalie said in a voice consonant with the grave measure of her nods: +"Of course, if it was a man, as you said, looking for a house, he'd go +to an agent. A house agent would tell him of houses best suited to his +needs that he could choose between. Well, there are insurance agents. +You've told me about them." + +"Ah, but not the same thing, not the same thing," corrected Mr. Simcox. +"An insurance agent, the ordinary insurance agent, is agent for a +particular company. He only knows what his own company can do and he +only wants his own company to do it. That's no good to the kind of man +in the position we're speaking of. He wants some one who can tell him +what all the companies will do for him. Some one who can hear his case, +analyse it, put it before him in the right light and advise him the +best way of placing it. That's what he wants. Exactly the same as these +letters I send out--as you and I send out, I should say. Why, I've had +practical examples of it. There was a young fellow I met at your aunt's +house. There've been three or four cases of it for that matter but this +happens to be some one you know--" + +He proceeded to tell her of a visitor at Aunt Belle's, a young man home +on leave from the Indian army and recently married, with whom he had got +into conversation on the subject of insurance and had most ably helped. +The young man had a certain policy in view. Mr. Sim-cox had put an +infinitely better before him. "If he had come to me before his marriage +when he was first taking out a policy in his wife's favour, I could have +saved him and gained her hundreds, literally hundreds," said Mr. Simcox. +"He'd made a most awful mess of the business. As it was I helped him +very considerably. He was very grateful, devilish grateful. He went +straight to an agent of the office I recommended and did it." + +"There must be hundreds like him that would be grateful," said Rosalie. + +"Thousands," said Mr. Simcox. "Tens of thousands. Every single soul who +insures, you may say." + +"Who got the commission?" said Rosalie. + +"The agent, of course," said Mr. Simcox. + +"Oh," said Rosalie. + +"Why?" said Mr. Simcox. + +"Nothing," said Rosalie. "Only 'oh '." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +There's much virtue in an If, says Touchstone; and there's much virtue +in an "Oh"--a wise, a thoughtful, a speculative, a discerning "Oh" such +as that "Oh" pronounced by Rosalie to Mr. Simcox's information that +agents, and not he, drew the commissions for the insurance policies +which, out of his knowledge and experience, he had advised. There +followed from that "Oh" its plain outcome: her suggestion to Mr. Simcox +of why not make a business, a real business, of expert advice upon +insurance, and (out of the make-believe intercourse with schools) a +business, a real business, of expert advice upon schools? And there +shall follow also from that "Oh" a sweeping use of the intention that +has been mentioned to tell only of her life that which contributed to +her life. We'll fix her stage from first to last, then see her walk upon +it. + +This was her stage: Her suggestion was adopted. It has, astonishingly +soon, astonishing success. Advice upon insurance, advice upon schools, +commissions from each, are found wonderfully to work in together, each +bringing clients to the other. Aunt Belle's swarms of friends, their +swarms of friends, the swarms of friends of those swarms of friends, +and so on, snowball fashion, are the first nucleus of the thing. It +succeeds. It grows. Real offices are taken. "Simcox's." Advertisements, +clerks, banking-accounts. Appearance of Mr. Sturgiss, partner in Field +and Company--"Field's"--the bankers and agents. Field's is a private +bank. Its business is principally with persons resident in the East, +soldiers, civil servants, tea planters, East India merchants. Field's +is in Lombard Street. (Lombard Street!) Later Field's opens a West End +office. Field's is frequently asked to advise its clients and their +wives on all manner of domestic matters,--schools for their children, +holiday homes, homes for clients over on leave, insurance, investment, +whatnot, a hundred things. Comes to this Sturgiss, partner in Field's, +an idea of great possibilities in this advisory business if developed +as might be developed and run as might be run. Tremendously attracted by +Rosalie as the person for the job. Makes her an offer. She declines it. +Mr. Simcox's death. Sturgiss comes along again. Ends in Rosalie going +to Field's. Lombard Street! Room of her own in the big offices. Glass +partitioned. Huge mahogany table. Huge mahogany desk. Field's open the +West End office, in Pall Mall. More convenient for wives of clients. +Rosalie is moved there. Manager of her own side of the business. The war +comes. Sturgiss goes out. Other important officers of the bank go out. +Her importance increases very much in other sides of the bank's business +than her own. Press scents her out and writes her up. "The only woman +banker." "Brilliant woman financier." Contributes articles to the +reviews. Very much a leading woman of her day. Very much a most +remarkable woman. + +That's her stage. Thus she walked upon it: + +The beginning part--that tumult of youth, those dizzy jumps that we have +seen her in--was frightfully exciting, frightfully absorbing. She was +so tremendously absorbed, so terrifically intent, so tremendously eager, +that the transition from the Sultana's to Aunt Belle's, and the start +with Mr. Simcox, and the transition from Aunt Belle's to independence +in the boarding house, was done with scarcely a visit--and then a rather +grudged and rather impatient visit--to the rectory home. + +No, the absorption was too profound for much of that: indeed, for much +of home in any form. Letters came from Rosalie's mother three and four +times a week. In the beginning, when fresh left school and at Aunt +Belle's, Rosalie always kissed the dear handwriting on the envelope, +and kissed the dear signature before returning the letters to their +envelopes; and she would sit up late at night writing enormously long +and passionately devoted letters in reply. But she wasn't going back; +she wasn't going down; no, not even for a week-end, "my own darling +and beloved little mother," until she had found an employment and was +established on her own feet, "just like one of the boys." Then she would +come, oh, wouldn't she just! She would have an annual holiday, "just as +men have," and she would come down to the dear, beloved old rectory and +she would give her own sweet, adored little mother the most wonderful +time she ever could imagine! + +Rosalie would sit up late at night writing these most loving letters, +pages and pages long; and her mother's letters (which always arrived by +the first post) she would carry about with her all day and read again +before answering. + +And yet.... + +The fond intention in thus carrying them on her person instead of +bestowing them in her writing case was to read them a dozen times in the +opportunities the day would afford. And yet... Somehow it was not done. +The day of the receipt of the very first letter was generous of such +opportunities and at each of them the letter was remembered... but not +drawn forth. Rosalie did not attempt to analyse why not. Her repression, +each time, of the suggestion that the letter should now be taken out and +read again was not a deliberate repression. She merely had a negative +impulse towards the action and accepted it; and so negligible was the +transaction in her record of her thoughts, so mere a cypher in the petty +cash of the day's ledger, that in the evening when, gone up to bed, the +letter was at last drawn out and kissed and read and answered, and then +kissed and read again, no smallest feeling of remorse was suffered by +her to reflect that the intended reading in the dozen opportunities of +the day had not been done. + +And yet... Was it, perhaps, this mere acceptance of a negative impulse, +a cloud no bigger than the size of a man's hand upon the horizon of +her generous impulses? There is this to be admitted--that the letters, +accumulating, began to bulk inconveniently in her writing case. What +a lot dear mother wrote! Room might be made for them by removing or +destroying the letters from friends who had left the Sultana's with her, +but about those letters there was a peculiar attraction; they were from +other emancipated One Onlys who watched with admiration the progress in +her wonderful adventure of brilliant, unconventional Rosalie, and it was +nice thus to be watched. Or room for her mother's letters might be made +by removing or destroying letters that began to amass directly touching +her desire for employment--from city friends of Uncle Pyke, from Mr. +Simcox. But, no, unutterably precious those! Unutterably precious, too, +of course, those accumulating bundles of letters from her dear mother; +but precious on a different plane: they belonged to her heart; it was +to her head, to the voice in her that cried "Live your life--your +life--yours!" that these others belonged. + +She was tingling to that voice one night, turning over the employment +letters; and, tingling, put her mother's letters from her case to her +box. + +Yes, upon the horizon of her generous impulses perhaps the tiniest +possible cloud. And then perhaps enlarging. You see, she was so very +full of her intentions, of her prospects. She had read somewhere that +the perfect letter to one absent from home was a letter stuffed with +home gossip,--who had been seen and who was doing what, and what had +been had for dinner yesterday and whence obtained. But she did not +subscribe to that view. She was from home and her mother's letters were +minutest record of the home life; but she began to skip those portions +to read "afterwards." One day the usual letter was there at breakfast +and she put it away unopened so as to have "a really good, jolly read" +of it "afterwards." In a little after that she got the habit of always, +and for the same reason (she told herself) keeping the letters till the +evening. One day she gave the slightest possible twitch of her brows at +seeing the very, very familiar handwriting. She had had a letter only +the previous day and two running was not expected: more than that, this +previous letter had slightly vexed her by its iteration of the longing +to see her and by very many closely written lines of various little +troubles. She was a little impatient at the idea of a further edition of +it so soon. She forgot to open it that night. She remembered it when +she was in bed; but she was in bed then... When, next day, she read the +letter it was, again, an iteration of the longing to see her and, again, +more, much more, of the little troubles: the residue was of the gossipy +gossip that Rosalie already had formed the habit of skipping till +"afterwards." Altogether a vexatious letter. + +After that, when the letters were frequent, it was frequent for Rosalie +to greet the sight of them with just the swiftest, tiniest little +contraction of her brows. Nothing at all really. Meaning virtually +nothing and of itself absolutely nothing. Possessing a significance +only by contrast, as a fine shade in silk or wool will not disclose a +pronounced hue until contrasted with another. The contrast here, to give +the thing significance, was between that swiftest, tiniest contraction +of the brows at the sight of her mother's letters and the eager spring +to them, the quick snatching up, and the impulsive pressing to her lips +when first those letters began to come. Likewise answering them, that +had been an impulsive outpouring and brimming over, now was a very +slightly laboured squeezing. The pen, before, had flooded love upon the +page. Now the pen halted, paused, and had to think of expressions that +would give pleasure. + +The change did not happen at a blow. If it had, Rosalie would have +noticed it. It slipped imperceptibly from stage to stage and she did not +notice it. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +There was a thing she said about men once (in the boarding house now) +and often repeated. "They're very fond of saying women are cats," she +once said. "Fools! It's men that are the cat tribe: tame cats, tabby +cats, wild cats, Cheshire cats, tomcats and stray cats! Aren't they +just? And look at them--tame cats are miserable creatures, tabby cats +the sloppy creatures, wild cats ferocious creatures, Cheshire cats fool +creatures, tomcats disgusting creatures, stray cats--on the whole the +stray cats are the least objectionable, they are bearable: at the right +time and for a short time." + +This characterisation of men as Rosalie, in sequent development of her +attitude towards men, had come to regard them was delivered to the girl +with whom (for cheapness) her room in the boarding house was shared. +Rosalie went from Aunt Belle's to this boarding house to assert and to +achieve her greater independence. A man, Rosalie debated, would have +gone into bachelor rooms; but young women did not go into bachelor rooms +in those days and the singularity of Rosalie's attitude towards life +is rather well presented in the fact that she never set herself against +conventions inhibitory of her sex merely because they were inhibitory +of her sex. When the years brought those violent scenes and emotions of +what has been called the suffragette campaign, Rosalie, who might have +been expected to be a militant of the militants, took no part nor even +interest in it whatever. She did not desire the privileges of men merely +because they were the privileges of men; she desired a status which +happened to be in the right of men and she went towards it without +seeking to change the established order of things, just as, from one +field desiring a flower in another field, she would have gone to fetch +it without changing her dress. + +A man, anxious for full independence, would have gone into bachelor +rooms; but young women did not go into bachelor rooms. They achieved +their independence perfectly well, and far more cheaply, by going into +a boarding house. She therefore, very excitedly, went into a boarding +house. + +There was no difficulty about leaving Aunt Belle's. Once Rosalie was +established in business with Mr. Simcox, tied to business hours, and +earning a weekly salary, she no longer occupied in Aunt Belle's house +the position of dependence which was in Aunt Belle's house the first, +and indeed the only, qualification for all who occupied her house. Aunt +Belle's guests had to be guests: wealthy guests who could be entertained +from early morning tea (beautifully served) to bedtime and made +graciously to admire; or if poor guests, and particularly poor +relations, guests who could be even more impressed and were naturally +much more enthusiastically delighted and profoundly admiring. Rosalie, +in business, could not be entertained and did not sufficiently admire. +She had to have a special early breakfast; she disappeared; she was not +in to lunch or tea; she was not sufficiently impressed by what cook had +prepared but had rather too much to say about what she had been doing, +at dinner; and she excused herself away to early bed on the ground of +fatigue or of having certain books to study. Rosalie, in business, was +not a guest at all in Aunt Belle's sense of the word: indeed there came +an occasion--Rosalie twice in one week late for dinner--when Aunt Belle +said awfully, "My house is not a hotel, Rosalie. I cannot have my nice +house turned into a hotel." + +It was the nearest thing to an unkind word ever spoken by Aunt Belle to +Rosalie, and it was so near that it brought Aunt Belle up to Rosalie's +bed that night--solicitude in a terrific dressing gown of crimson +silk--to express the hope that Rosalie was not crying (she was not; she +had been sound asleep) at anything Aunt Belle "might have said." "But +you see, dear child, there are the servants to consider, all that +delicious soup and all that most tasty turbot au gratin to be kept warm +for you, and there is your kind Uncle Pyke to consider; men do not like +their meals to be..." + +The boarding house, which Rosalie, with qualms as to its reception by +Aunt Belle, had for some time been secretly meditating, came easily +after that. The boarding house had moreover for Aunt Belle a double +attraction. It not only removed Rosalie in her capacity of one +threatening to turn Aunt Belle's nice house into a hotel; it also +restored Rosalie in her capacity of overwhelmed, grateful and admiring +poor relation. Rosalie was now invited from the boarding house just as +previously she had been invited from the Sultana's; the table and +the appointments of Aunt Belle's house were now lavishly displayed in +contrast to the display and the table endured by Rosalie at the boarding +house; Aunt Belle was again supremely happy in Rosalie and abundantly +kind; dinner each Saturday night was a standing invitation and +frequently for these dinners Aunt Belle arranged "a little dinner party +for you, dear child, just one or two really nice people that it is nice +for you to meet and that you can tell your friends at the boarding house +about, dear child." + +Aunt Belle helped Rosalie to choose the boarding house and saw that it +was "nice." Nice people went there and the proprietress, Miss Kentish, +was nice. Miss Kentish had a grey, detachable fringe which became, and +re-mained, semi-detached immediately after breakfast, and a mobile front +tooth which came out surprisingly far when she talked and went in with +a sharp click when she stopped. She had for newcomers a single +conversational sentence--"My name is Kentish, though funnily enough we +come from Sussex"--and, for all purposes, a single business principle, +that of willingness "to come to an arrangement." "I am afraid I cannot +remedy your water not being hot at eight o'clock," she would say to a +boarder, "but I will gladly come to an arrangement with you. Ten minutes +to eight or ten minutes past eight" (click). She would come to an +arrangement on anything. She became very fond of Rosalie in course of +time and once told her that though her duties never permitted her to +attend church she had "come to an arrangement" with the vicar and felt +that she had "come to an arrangement with Our Lord" (click). She came to +an arrangement with Rosalie in the matter of tariff, receiving her and a +Miss Salmon, who also sought arrangement, as "two friends as one." This +was two persons sharing a room at the tariff of a person and a half. +Living was very cheap in those days. Rosalie, at the beginning, with +Miss Salmon, paid 18/6 a week, and out of the twenty-five shillings paid +her, at first, every Friday by Mr. Simcox there remained what seemed to +Rosalie great wealth. + +She set herself to save on it and her first purpose in thus saving was +to accumulate money on which she could draw so as to be able to pay +for a room private to herself. That would have taken some time. Her +successive increases in her earnings, as Mr. Simcox's hobby developed +into a business, brought privacy, and in time what amounted to luxury, +by much swifter process. Rosalie was a very long time at the boarding +house. From being two friends as one she passed to a small remote +room of her own, then to a larger and more accessible room, then to a +bed-sitting-room, finally to a very delightful arrangement. There was on +the second floor a fine roomy apartment having a dressing-room opening +out of it. Rosalie, by then in much favour with Miss Kentish, not only +secured the suite but "came to an arrangement" with Miss Kentish by +which the furniture and fittings were removed from the rooms and Rosalie +permitted to fit, decorate and furnish them herself. Rosalie never knew +happier hours than in the furnishing of those two rooms into a little +kingdom of her own: she never in all her life knew days as happy as the +days there spent. + +But at the beginning, two friends as one with Miss Salmon and first +contact with life from the angle presented by some twenty various +individuals met at meals and in the public rooms. Miss Salmon was a +pale, fussy creature with pince-nez in some mysterious way set so far +from her eyes that she always appeared to be running after them as if to +keep them balanced. Whenever anything of which she did not approve was +being said to Miss Salmon or was being done before Miss Salmon, she +maintained throughout it, moving about in pursuit of her pince-nez, a +rather loud, constant, tuneless humming. When her moment came she +would always begin "Well, now" and then swallow forcibly as though the +swallowing gave her pain. "Well, now" (gulp). This introduction was +always precedent to speech by Miss Salmon, whether after humming or not. +Rosalie frequently went to Sunday church service with her and there +was an occasion in the Litany on which Miss Salmon, who either had been +wandering or sleeping, suddenly came to herself at the correct moment +and said: "Well, now"--(gulp)--"We beseech thee to hear us, O Lord." + +Miss Salmon was employed as a daily nursery governess by a family +resident across the park who, not hav-ing room for her, had "come to +an arrangement" with Miss Kentish for her accommodation at the boarding +house; and with her fussiness, her nose pursuit, her humming and her +general ineptitude of habit and of thought, she was as it were a fated +companion for Rosalie; and it was the case that all the other inmates of +the boarding house were, in regard to Rosalie, equally and in the same +sense fated. Miss Salmon and they were fated, or fatal, to Rosalie, in +the sense that it would have been well then for Rosalie, as always well +for any developing young thing, to have been among companions who drew +upon her sympathies and called for her consideration. The contrary was +here presented to her. She was ripe to be intolerant for she was very +full of purpose and purpose is a motive power of much impatience. Miss +Salmon, who would have made a saint impatient, made Rosalie, who was not +a saint, very impatient and the virus of this impatience was that very +soon Rosalie made no attempt to conceal it. It seemed to Rosalie that +whenever she projected any plan to Miss Salmon--as to "do" a pit at a +theatre--or any theory--as that men and not women were manifestly the +cat tribe--it seemed to her that Miss Salmon always hummed with +the maddening humming denotive of disapproval, and always prefaced +stupendously stubborn idiocy with the "Well, now" and the gulp that +alone were sufficient to drive enthusiasm crazy. + +"Mmmmm--mm. Mmm--mmmm--mm--mm," would go Miss Salmon, following her +pince-nez up and down the little bedroom. And then, the pince-nez +poised, "Well, now" (gulp). + +And Rosalie came to cry, "Oh, never mind. Never mind, for goodness' +sake. I know exactly what you're going to say so what is the good of +saying it?" Miss Salmon nevertheless would say it, in full measure, +pressed down at intervals in solid lumps with reiterated "Well, now" +(gulp). And then Rosalie would hum to show she was not listening and +thus in time to the position that Rosalie, beyond the ordinary changes +of everyday conversation, took not the slightest notice of Miss Salmon +but busied herself in their room, or came into it or went out of it, +precisely as if Miss Salmon, who with her gulps, her fussiness and +her balancing was very much there, was in fact not there at all. When +Rosalie for the weekly dinner at Aunt Belle's used to dress in the +evening frock of Laetitia's given her for the purpose by Aunt Belle, she +used, at first, to say to Miss Salmon, "There, how do I look, Gertrude? +Can you see that mend in the lace?" + +"Well, now--" (gulp). + +Very soon she was dressing (at the common dressing table) with no more +regard for Miss Salmon or for the continuous humming of Miss Salmon +(signification of Miss Salmon's disapproval of the monopolisation of the +dressing table) than if Miss Salmon had been an automaton wound up to +balance a pince-nez around the room, to hum, and at intervals to gulp. + +This was a small thing, but it was an important small thing. Rosalie was +entirely insensible to the opinions and the existence of Miss Salmon, +and it followed that she became entirely insensible to the feelings of +Miss Salmon. To begin by ignoring a person with whom you are in daily +contact is certainly to end by not caring at all what happens to that +person. It was the misfortune of Miss Salmon to suffer periodically and +acutely from biliousness (which she called neuralgia). In an attack, she +took instantly to her bed and lay there flat on her back, absurdly and +unnecessarily poising her pince-nez, and looking, unquestionably, very +unpleasant. Rosalie,--who believed that Miss Salmon on these occasions +had overeaten herself, the attacks invariably coinciding with pork in +winter and with a fruit trifle known in the boarding house as "Kentish +Delight" in the summer, of both of which Miss Salmon was avowedly fond, +was at first warmly sympathetic and attentive on their occurrence, +anointing the fevered brows with eau-de-Cologne, nipping the unnecessary +pince-nez off the pallid nose, darkening the room, and stealing about +on tiptoe. In time her attitude came to be expressed by her reception +of the sight of Miss Salmon prone, stricken, yellow, pince-nez, poising. +"What, again?" + +"Well, now----" (Gulp). + +But Rosalie would be gone. + +And it came to be the same with all the other fellow inmates of the +boarding house, alike the men and the women. Rosalie, in a colloquialism +of to-day not then coined, "had no use for them." There was in none of +them anything that aroused her esteem; there was in each of them, in +degree greater or less, much that provoked her scorn. The result was +as resulted from Miss Salmon--she did not bother about them; and not +bothering about them she suffered an inhibition of her sympathies. To +repeat the thing said, her environment here was, as it were, fated +or fatal. In her eagerness for her career, her generous emotions were +likely to be laid aside and to wither; and the environment of the +boarding house in no way drew upon her sympathies. + +This was not good for Rosalie. + +Moreover, the community of the boarding house served Rosalie ill on +another point. She came there with all those grotesque ideas of her +childhood on the respective positions of men and women precipitated +through her older years to the perception given to Keggo: women +were this, women were that; in their commonest characteristics they +contrasted very badly with men; men did things better than women; they +had by far the better lot in life than women; unquestionably men were +the creatures; of course--off-handedly--they were beasts. She came to +the boarding house with these ideas and the boarding house presented +these ideas to her in living fact and assured her in her ideas. She came +there very susceptible to the qualities she believed to be rooted with +their sex in men and women and she saw those qualities there at once. +The boarding house might have been all her ideas of women and of men +taken away by an artist and put into an exact picture. It was her words +to Keggo in terms of actual life. Its population, little varying, was +always round about twenty; the proportion in sex always in the region +of fifteen women to five men. The figures were always constant and the +characters, when they changed, seemed always to Rosalie to be constant; +the names changed, the personalities did not change. Even the faces did +not change: there are certain types of faces that either are produced +by permanent residence in boarding houses or that go instinctively to +boarding houses for their permanent residence. There is a boarding-house +mould. There would always be two husbands with wives and three men +without wives. The men were never spoken to by any of the women but with +a certain archness which Rosalie detested; and they never spoke to the +women but with a certain boisterousness, a kind of rubbing together of +the hands and a "Ha! What miserable weather, Mrs. Keeley. How does it +suit you? Ha!" which Rosalie equally detested. It was as though the +women, leading boarding-house lives, knew that the men (who were +never in to lunch and sometimes absent from dinner) did not lead +boarding-house lives but secret, dashing and mysterious lives; and as +though the men knew that they lived secret, dashing and mysterious lives +but condescended to the women who lived only boarding-house lives; and +the archness on the one side and the boisterousness on the other +implied tribute and worthiness of tribute. This implication Rosalie also +detested. + +Men--as she now saw men and women--she dismissed; generally as "of +course they're beasts," severally and in the groups to which they +belonged, as cats--of the cat tribe--tame cats, wild cats, Cheshire +cats, tomcats and stray cats. But she dismissed them. That was her +attitude, as it developed, towards men. They had been, in her regard, +owners of the earth, possessing and having dominion over the round world +and all that therein is, as a stage magician owns and dominates his +stage; they had next been wonderful things but apt to be troublesome and +braggart things whose braggadocio caused you to blink and have a funny +feeling; they had then been sinister and frightening things that caused +poor Anna to say it was hard for women; they became, at last, creatures +that had the best of life, that is to say the better time in life, not +because they merited it, but because it was theirs by tradition and they +stepped into it, or were put into it, as naturally as a man child is +put into trousers; and they had, when all was reckoned up, the better +qualities--largeness, tolerance, directness, explosiveness (as opposed +to smouldering-ness)--not, Rosalie thought, because they were males, but +because they had the position that males have, just as by the habit of +command is given to small boys in the Navy and very young men in the +Army the air and the poise of command. + +Yes, certainly men were, as they had always been, the creatures; but the +eyes that formerly saw them as magicians, as by a savage is seen only +the mystery of the moving hands, the tick, and the strike of a +clock, now looked inside the case and saw the works. No mystery. +No exclusiveness of natural power. Nothing abnormal. Men, on their +estimable qualities and position, were what they were merely because, +as the works of a watch, thus and thus the wheels were made to go round. +Easy. Nothing in it. On the contrary. On the contrary, men were the more +despicable in that, dowered as by tradition they were dowered, they yet +were--what they were! The eyes that had been caused to blink by Robert +blowing smoke through his nose and by Harold pulling up his collar and +speaking with a "haw!" sound, blinked from a contempt yet more profound +(because now known for contempt) at the exhibition, seen all about her, +of men's unlovely side. And she dismissed them. They did not attract her +in the smallest degree. All that they had in them to esteem, whether +of qualities or of position, they had--here was the parallel--in common +with drones in a hive. They had the best of everything; they were +blundering, blustering, noisy, careless, buccaneering owners of the +world, and to her--as all the roystering swarm to any individual worker +bee--to her, negligible. She was a worker bee, busy, purposeful. + +There is a special function belonging to drones in a hive. That special +function of men in regard to women was repellant to Rosalie. All that +pertained to it was repulsive to her. She loathed to think of men in +that capacity and she loathed to see women ensnared in that regard by +men. Beautiful cousin Laetitia and the "good match" that obviously had +been found for her: she detested seeing those two together: it made her +feel sick. + +Men! By this and by that in passage of time she was in contact with a +good number and a good variety of men. There was the frequently changing +male contribution to the boarding-house community; there were clients +met in the development of her work at Simcox's; there were the men of +the circle of Uncle Pyke Pounce; there were the men of the circle of +cousin Laetitia, brought to the little Saturday-dinner parties. A very +fair average, a rather wider than the normal average of contact with +men; and she dismissed them. They had not any attraction for her at +all. If, rarely, she met one whose superficial points were superficially +attractive, his contribution to her attitude to men was to make her +blink (inwardly) the more, albeit on a different note. That one so +exceptionally dowered should find pleasure in, for instance, dalliance +of sex! Contemptible! Oh, sickening and contemptible! One Harry Occleve, +of Laetitia's circle, so obviously "the good match," was outstandingly +such a case. It was thought upon him, scornful and disgusted thought, +that made her, walking back from one of the Saturday-evening parties--he +was always there--arrange her experiences with men in that analogy +between men and cats which, as related, had been delivered to Miss +Salmon. + +Like a tame cat! She never had met a man she despised so much. You'd +think a man like that couldn't help but be above such things as Cousin +Laetitia and Aunt Belle made of him. "Occleve." The very name that +he owned had a nice sound; and he was brilliantly clever and looked +brilliantly clever. He was a barrister and Aunt Belle, who was forever +talking about him, had said that evening, just before his arrival, that +some famous counsel had declared of him that he was unquestionably +the most brilliant of the young men of the day at the Bar. So he was +talented, had a great future before him, had a strong, most taking +presence, a commanding air, a voice of uncommon charm--and was in bonds +to Laetitia! Looked sickly at her! Mouthed fatuous nothings with her! +Was obviously marked down to be that "good match" that Laetitia was to +make, and was content, was eager, to be the tame cat of her languishing +glances and of Aunt Belle's excessive gushings! Was to be seen in +a future not distant mated with Laetitia and sharing with her an +atmosphere of milk and silk and babies and kisses! Tame cat! What an end +to which to bring such qualities! What a desecration of such qualities +to set them to win such an end! Tame cat! + +But they all were cats of one kind or another. Yes, men are of the +cat tribe! Tabby cats--the soft, fattish kind, without any manlike +qualities, that seemed to be by far the greater proportion of all the +men one saw about in buses and in the streets and met in business; +tabby cats--sloppy, old-womanish creatures. Cheshire cats--the kind +that grinned out of vacuous minds and that never could speak to a woman +without grinning; the unattached men at the boarding house invariably +were of the Cheshire-cat cats. Tomcats--the beastly ones with lecherous +eyes that looked at you. "Of course they're beasts." It had been a large +experience of the tomcat cats that had made her add that final summary +of men to Keggo. The Bashibazook, once or twice encountered in her last +terms at the Sultana's, though never spoken with, had looked at her in +a horrible way, not understood, but felt to be frightening and horrible; +Mr. Ponders, on a dreadful occasion after handing over the medicine for +Miss Keggs, had horribly said, "Well, now, wouldn't a kiss be nice? +I think a nice kiss would be very nice." She had managed to get away +without being touched; the nausea in her eyes perhaps had frightened +him. It was nausea she felt, not fear, a horrible physical sickness; +and finally to round off the "of course they're beasts" of men as then +experienced and now to fill up the schedule of tomcat cats the friends +of Uncle Pyke Pounce's circle and Uncle Pyke Pounce himself and the +men like the men of his circle--tomcats something past their prime as +lechers (but at a hint only more lecherous for that) but in the full +prime of their beastliness as guzzlers, who with guzzle eyes eyed their +food. She had come across a word in Carlyle's "French Revolution" that +instantly brought Uncle Pyke Pounce and his friends to her mind and +that always thereafter she applied to the elderly tomcat encountered +or passed in the street--"atrabilious." Atrabilious! The very word! She +looked it up in the dictionary, was disappointed to find it did not +mean exactly what she thought it meant, but gave it her own meaning, and +applied it to them. It sounded like them. They had small beady eyes, set +in yellow; no apparent eyelids either above or below, just an unblinking +eye set in a puffy face like a currant in a slab of cold pudding that +gloated or glared at everything and everybody as if it was a thing to +be devoured; guzzlers who gloated upon their food and wallowed in their +soup, always with little streaks of red veins and blue veins in their +faces. Atrabilious! Tomcats! + +Wild cats--the roamers, the untamed ones, the ones with cruel and with +wicked faces that made you not sick, but frightened; mostly they were +dressed in rough clothes, men hanging about the streets who patently +were thieves or worse, who looked at you and at once looked all around +as if to see if any were about that might protect you; but often dressed +in gentle dress and then with the cruel and wicked look more cruel and +more wicked, to make your shudder to think of a woman having to belong +to that. + +Stray cats--on the whole the only really bearable ones; the lonely ones +that seemed to have lost something or to be lost, that seemed to need +looking after, that made you have a funny tender feeling towards them, a +wanting as it were to pick them up and carry them home and be sharp with +them because they couldn't take care of themselves, and to be kind to +them also because they couldn't take care of themselves; yes, the only +bearable ones: Mr. Simcox was precisely one. + +All cats, of the cat tribe. There wasn't one you couldn't place. There +wasn't one, save dear little Mr. Simcox and the stray cat ones you +sometimes saw, that was not in some trait contemptible. The only thing +to be said for them was that it was their nature. They were created like +that. You just shrugged your shoulders at them and let them go at that, +negligible entities. Active disgust was only felt of them when one of +their traits was manifested directly towards you; or, much more, when +the sight was given of such a one as this Harry Occleve making such an +exhibition of himself and enjoying it, delighting in it, asking nothing +better than to be philandering with Laetitia, or escorting Laetitia, or +gazing at Laetitia. That did make you angry enough with a man to hate +a man. It was like seeing a good book--as it might be "Lombard +Street"--used to prop a table leg; or a jolly dog--as the dearest Scotch +terrier once brought to the boarding house--led for a walk on a leash by +an old maiden mistress and wearing a lapdog's flannel coat with ribbon +bows at the corner. Her aversion to Harry Occleve was such that, in +their rare passages together, she was almost openly rude to him. It +seemed there was even no physical quality he had but he used it to abase +himself or to make an exhibition of himself. He had noticeably long, +strong-looking arms, but the sickening thing to see him once using those +arms to hold silk for Laetitia while she wound it! He had a striking +face that she named, from a line in Browning, a "marching" face--"one +who never turned his back but marched breast forward"--but to see that +face bent fatuously towards Laetitia! There radiated from the corners of +his eyes towards his temples those little lines that sailors often have, +"horizon tracks," she called them; but to see them deeply marked while +he mouthed earnest nothings with Laetitia! There was an odd, nice smell +about him, of peat, of tobacco, of soap, of heather with the wind across +it, of things like that most agreeably mixed, and actually she had heard +Laetitia say to him in the babyish way she spoke to him, "You smoke too +much. You do." And he, like a moon calf: "Oh, you're not going to ask me +to give up smoking, are you?" And she with a trailing eye and hint of +a blush, "Perhaps I shall--some day." And he--a sigh! Positively a +love-sick sigh straight out of a novel! Ah, positively she could detest +the man! She came to discover it as an odd thing that, while commonly +she was entirely indifferent to men, always after a Saturday meeting +with Laetitia's Harry she had for quite a day or two an active +detestation of them. + +But it was the women at the boarding house--to instance the boarding +house--the fifteen women, the immense, straggling army of women as they +looked to be, when they came trooping in to dinner or went trailing out +again, that had Rosalie's sharpest observation and that best pointed +her youthful estimates. Unlike men who had fallen woefully from her +childhood estimate of them, the women maintained and intensified her +early estimate of women. The women in the boarding house showed Rosalie +what women come to. A few were emphatically old; the rest, with the +single exception of Miss Salmon, were emphatically not old; on the other +hand they were emphatically not young. They were at pains to let you +see they were not old and the pains they were at rather dreadfully (to +Rosalie) emphasised the fact that they were not young. The thing about +them, the warning, the proof that they exhibited of all Rosalie's ideas +about the inferiority of women, was that they were, in her phrase, +derelicts--not wanted; abandoned; homeless; or they would not be +here. Yes, derelict; and what was worse, derelict not in the sense of +desuetude of powers or of powers outworn, but with the suggestion of +never having had any powers, of having been always the mere vessels of +another's powers--some man's; and now, with that power withdrawn--the +man, whether father, brother, lover or husband, gone--derelict as a +ship, abandoned of crew, rudderless and dismasted, is derelict; as an +obscure habitation, cold of hearth, crazy of walls, abandoned to decay, +is derelict. She summed them all up as having arrived at what they +were precisely because in their earlier years they had been what in +her childhood she had supposed women to be: inferior creatures at the +disposal and for the benefit and service of men. What a warning never to +be that! There they were--manless. And therefore derelict. And because +derelict for such a reason, therefore testimony to a social condition +that was abominable, and because seen to be abominable never, never +herself should enfold. Never! Manless. Husbandless. There they were, +the straggling mob of them,--deserted by husbands, semi-detached from +husbands, relict of husbands fallen out with a stitch in the side in the +race for husbands. Urh! + +She was very young, Rosalie. + +"Despised and rejected of men," she said to Miss Salmon, holding forth +in their bedroom on her subject. "That's what I call them. Despised and +rejected of men. Oh, don't hum louder than ever. It's not irreverent to +say that. It describes a condition, that's all, and I'm using it because +it describes this condition, their condition, exactly. It does. You can +hum; but it does. They've never done anything, they've never meant to +do anything, they've never tried to do anything except hang round after +some man. That's all. They've either caught him and now lost him; or +they've missed him and now go on missing him. That's their lives. That's +nearly any woman's life. It's not going to be mine. If anything were +wanted to make the whole idea of marriage and all that repulsive to +me--and nothing is wanted--that would. Despised and rejected of men! I +used to think and to say I intended to be like a man and to do a man's +work and have a man's share. I tell you that even getting so close to +a man as that--I mean as close as intentional emulation of him--even +getting as close as that makes me feel sick now. It's my own life I'm +going to have, my own place, my own share; not modelled on any one +else's. If it were conceivable that I ever met a man I cared tuppence +about--but it isn't conceivable; that's a quality that's been left clean +out of me, thank goodness--but if it were conceivable, what I'd offer +would be just to share; to go on living my own way and he his--Oh, +your humming! I mean after marriage, of course; I think this free-love +business they talk about is even more detestable than the lawful +kind--just animalism. That's all I'd do. Me my life; he his life; +meeting, as equals, when it was convenient to meet. I'd like to bring +all these poets and people who write about love into our dining-room to +see those people. That'd teach them! + + Man's love is of his life a thing apart; + 'Tis woman's whole existence. + +What an existence!" + +"Well, now--" (gulp). + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +"You have pretended to dislike and to despise men, but it was a pretence +to deceive me and you are a liar." + +This was the astounding opening of an astounding letter, pages and +pages, to Rosalie from Miss Salmon. Pages and pages, having the +appearance, each one, of a battlefield or of a riot: a welter of thick, +black underscores strewn about like coffins or like corpses, and a +bristling pin-cushionful (black pins) of notes of exclamation leaping +about like war-dancing Zulus or staggering about like drunken or like +wounded men. A welter you had to pick your way through with epithets +rushing against you at every step like units of a surging mob hounding +and charging against an unfortunate pedestrian caught in the trouble. + +Miss Salmon had two months before introduced "a gentleman friend" to the +boarding house. He was a clerk in some big business firm. His name was +Upsmith and he bore upon a fattish face a troubled, beseeching look, +rather as though something internal and not to be mentioned was severely +incommoding him and might at any moment become acute. Miss Salmon called +him Boo, which Rosalie considered grotesque but not unsuitable, and +it was communicated to the boarding house that the twain were at +a mysterious point of affinity called, not an engagement, but an +understanding. + +Rosalie had by this time taken the second step in her upward progression +of comfort in the boarding house. She had moved into a separate room, +leaving Miss Salmon to become half of another two friends as one, and +she and Miss Salmon therefore saw much less of each other. But Rosalie +still sat at the same table as Miss Salmon at dinner and there Mr. +Upsmith joined them. + +The thing may be hurried along to its astounding conclusion in the +astounding letter. It was not in itself an event of any sort of moment +to Rosalie. She was in no way outraged by being called a liar. There is +no hurt at all in being called a liar when you know you are not a +liar. The accusation has sting only if you are a liar; and indeed it is +comforting evidence of some inner self within us that only when we have +ourselves debased that inner self become we open to wounds from without. +That citadel is never taken by storm; only by treachery. No, the +significance of the astounding letter reposed in the fact that her +reception of it opened to Rosalie a glimpse of a quality rising beneath +her to carry her forward as a wave beneath a swimmer. It has been +perceived in her but Rosalie had not perceived it. + +A great triumph and a great happiness swelled within Miss Salmon with +the arrival of Mr. Upsmith and with the circulation about the boarding +house that there was an understanding between herself and Mr. Upsmith. +Her humming took on a loud, defiant quality, as of triumph; she pursued +her pince-nez with a certain eagerness, as of confidence of balance and +certitude of capture. Her note and her air seemed to say that she was +Boo's and Boo hers and she gloried in it with that exalted and yet +something fearful glory that is to be seen, pathetically, on the faces +of very plain young women, or of distinctly ageing young women, who have +got a Boo but for whom the Boos of this world are elusive to capture +and slippery to hold. The look is to be seen a dozen times on any Sunday +afternoon when the young couples are out. + +At dinner time Miss Salmon would talk much to Boo in whispers and then +would look up and hum across at Rosalie in triumph, as of one that knew +things that Rosalie could not know and that had a thing that Rosalie did +not possess. Mr. Upsmith looked also much at Rosalie, in no triumph, +but in an apparent great excess of his unfortunate complaint. He stared, +troubled and beseeching, at her at meals, and he stared, troubled and +beseeching, at her when he encountered her away from meals. The longer +he sojourned in the boarding house the more troubled and beseeching, +when Rosalie happened to notice him, did his fattish countenance appear +to become. That was all. There scarcely ever was exchanged between them +even the courtesies customary between dwellers beneath the same roof; +they never, that Rosalie could remember, were a minute alone together +and yet on a day in an August, Miss Salmon a week away on a month at the +seaside with the family to which she was nursery governess, Rosalie was +being told in the violent opening sentence of one letter that she had +pretended to despise and dislike men but had only done it to deceive +Miss Salmon and was a liar; and in the impassioned sentences of another +which had been enclosed and had fallen and to which bewildered she +stooped and then read, that the heart of Boo was at her feet ("your +proud, sweet little feet that I would kiss in my adorance") that he had +adored her ever since he had first set eyes on her, that he treasured +"like pearls before swine" every encouragement she had given him from +her divine eyes and from her proud little lips, that he had had no sleep +for a fortnight and felt he would go mad unless he wrote these few +lines (nine pages), that he earned "good money," and that he was, +in conclusion, to which Rosalie amazedly skipped, "ever and ever and +imperishably always her imperishably adoring Boo." + +Two days previously Rosalie had received, but not read, another slightly +mysterious letter. It had been in her receptacle in the letter rack in +the hall, addressed to her in an unfamiliar writing and deposited by +hand, not through the post. It had begun "Dear Miss Salmon, re our +friendship I have to inform you--" Rosalie had turned to the end, +"B. Upsmith." She had replaced it in its envelope, written upon the +envelope, "This is evidently for you, but addressed to me, as you +see--R." and had placed it in another stamped wrapper to be forwarded +by Miss Kentish. She had only thought of it as in funny style for a love +letter, proper no doubt to the niceties of an "understanding." And what +had happened was that the vile, egregious, and infamous Boo, writing to +break off one understanding and establish another, had placed them in +the wrong envelopes. The outpourings of his bursting heart to Rosalie +had been received by Miss Salmon; the information "re our friendship" +had gone to Rosalie. + +Of itself, as has been said, the whole incident was nothing at all in +the life of Rosalie. It came with the crash, but only startling and +quite harmless crash, of an unexpected clap of thunder, and it passed +as completely and as passively, doing no damage, leaving no mark. Miss +Salmon never returned to the boarding house; the vile, egregious and +infamous Boo haply incisively informed by Miss Salmon of what he had +done, incontinently, and without speech to Rosalie, fled from the +boarding house. They were gone, they were nothing to Rosalie; the +correspondence was destroyed, it was nothing to Rosalie. + +But the significance of the matter was here. There was in Miss Salmon's +letter to Rosalie one paragraph that Rosalie read a second time. She +had received the letter when coming in just before dinner. Not at +all injured nor in any way discommoded by the hurtling epithets, +the terrific underscores intended to be as bludgeons, or the leaping +exclamatory notes set there for stabs, she had put the thing away in a +drawer and gone down to her meal. The passage alluded to came more than +once into her mind. When she was about to get into bed that night she +destroyed the letter, first reading that paragraph, and only that, +again. Sole in the violent welter of those sheets it had no underscores +nor any exclamations. It was added as a postscript. It said: + +"Well, now; Boo and I met the first time in a crowd watching a horse +that had fallen down. It kicked and I stepped back quickly and trod on +his foot. It made him put his hands on my arms and I looked around to +apologise and there was his dear face smiling at me, although in great +pain, for I had trodden on a corn he has; and I knew at once it was the +face I had looked for and longed for all my life and had found at last; +and I loved him from the first and we went out of the crowd and talked. +Well, now; I clung to him in all our happy, happy months together, in a +way you can never understand, because I loved him, and because I am not +the sort that men like because I am only plain, and I knew that if ever +he left me I could never get another. Well, now; you have taken him away +from me. You could get dozens and dozens of men to love you, but you +have taken mine, and I never, never can get another." + +The thoughts of Rosalie, not sequent, but going about and amounting +thusly, were thus: "That is very pathetic. That is horribly sad and +pathetic. Coming at the end like that and without any strokes and +flourishes, it is as if she was exhausted of her hate and rage and just +put out an utterly tired hand and set this here like a sigh. That's +pathetic, the mere look of it and that thought of it. And then what she +says. The dreadfully simple naivete of the beginning of it. Staring at a +fallen horse in the street. It's just where they would be, both of them. +They'd stand there for hours and just stare and stare. And then she +steps back on his foot and there's 'his dear face' smiling at her; ah, +it's pathetic, it's poignant! I can see it absolutely. Yes, I can. As if +I were in the crowd around the horse, watching them. There they are, the +horse between us, and all the doltish, staring faces round about; and +their two dull and stupid faces; and as their eyes meet that sudden look +upon their foolish faces, as of irradiation out of heaven, that would +make a clown's face beautiful and cause the hardest heart to twist. +But it doesn't cause mine to twist. That's the odd thing. I remember +perfectly when a thing like that would have given me a little blinky +kind of feeling. I've always been awfully quick to notice things like +that. I've often seen them. Quite recently, so little, I believe, as a +year ago, things like that, things like this, would have moved me a lot. +They somehow do not now. That frightful ending of hers: 'You could get +dozens and dozens of men to love you, but you have taken mine and I can +never, never get another.' That is most terribly pathetic. I think that +is the most poignant thing I have ever heard. Well, I can realise its +utter pathos; I can realise it but I cannot feel it. It does not move +me. 'And I never, never can get another.' It's frightful. I could cry. +But I do not a bit want to cry. I must have somehow changed. I am not a +bit sorry if I have changed. I would be sorry to go back and be as, if I +have changed, I must have been--sentimental. I have changed. I believe I +can look back and see it. About the time I left the Sultana's, mother's +letters, and keeping them and answering them, began to be--yes they +did begin to be a little, tiny bit of a nuisance to me. Yes, it was +beginning then, this. And I expect earlier, if I worked it out. There's +nothing in it to regret. It's just a growing out of a thing. It's not, +when I see a thing that's pathetic, that I've grown blunt or blind and +can't see it for pathetic. It's just--I know what it is--it's just that +it doesn't appeal to me in the same way. It's like seeing a dish of most +tempting food in front of you, not that I ever remember my mouth, as +they say, watering at anything; but say strawberries and cream--I'm fond +of strawberries and cream--it's like seeing a dish of strawberries and +cream in front of you, and knowing it's good and knowing it's delicious, +and knowing you're awfully fond of it--and just not being hungry; +turning away and leaving it there, not because it's not everything that +it ought to be, but just because--you don't want it. I should say that's +how it is with me about these--these pathetic things. I know they're +pathetic. I don't want them." + +That is how it was, how it had become, with Rosalie. That was just her +first recognition of it, as the swimmer, intent on his own making of his +progression, recognises not, till he has been borne some distance by it, +the current that also is carrying him along. + +Visits home to the Rectory were further manifestations to her of this +arising symptom. + +There were appeals that should have arisen to her out of her home; and +they did arise; and she recognised them; but they did not appeal to +her--not in the old way. She went home very rarely for occasional +week-ends, always for her annual holidays, always for Christmas; and the +discovery she made was that she liked her home very much better when she +was away from it than when she was in it. When a visit was in prospect +she desired her home, that is to say her mother, most frightfully. But +when the visit was in being the joy she had promised herself she would +spread somehow was not at her command; the love she had yearned to show +somehow was chilled within her and not forthcoming. It was the tempting +dish in a new illustration--rushing eagerly to it, avid of its delights; +coming to it and finding, after all, one was not hungry. + +Strange! + +Her mother was ageing rapidly. She could have wept to see the ageing +signs; but somehow, seeing them, did not weep; was not moved; received +the impression but was not sensitive to it; felt the tug but did not +respond to the pull. Rather, indeed, was apt to be a little impatient. +Returned to London and to her engrossing work and longed to be back with +her mother; came back to her mother--and was not hungry. + +Strange! + +Then she began to analyse the strangeness of it and found it was not, +after all, so strange; at least it was not a thing to be distressed +about, nor bearing conviction of unnatural qualities, of hardness, of +unkindness. There was a line she knew that came in a verse: + + There was a time when meadow, grove and stream, + The earth, and every common thing + To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, + The glory and the freshness of a dream. + It is not now as it hath been of yore. + Turn wheresoe'er I may + By night or day, + The things which I have seen I now can see no more. + +"The things which I have seen I now can see no more." That was the line. +"The things which used to appeal to me now appeal no more--or rather +not quite in the same way. I think I used to be very sentimental. It +is stupid and useless to be sentimental. People must grow old. There's +nothing sad in that. It is natural. It is life. It is life and one must +accept life. The unnatural thing, the foolish and wrong thing, is to +remain a sentimental child for ever, with a child's ready foolish tears +at what are common, necessary facts of life. I can be much kinder, +much more really kind, by seeing things clearly--and in their right +perspective than by occluding them with false compassions. I am always +my dear, my darling mother's devoted daughter, ever at her disposal, and +she knows it and loves me for it. When I am to her or to any friend but +as ships that pass in the night--Keggo's phrase--then let me take myself +to task." + +Keggo's phrase! Keggo was being intermittently seen at this time and +these thoughts of Rosalie's were very close to the occasion when finally +she lost sight of Keggo. It could be said like this--that Keggo here +made a contribution to Rosalie's life that passed Rosalie on her way. + +They had kept touch for quite a time after their separation as governess +and pupil. They then lost touch. + +"Why, it must be more than a year!" cried Rosalie, suddenly encountering +Miss Keggs near the Marble Arch one evening and delightedly greeting +her. It was in the summer and Rosalie had gone out from the boarding +house after dinner for some fresh air in the park. She was enormously +glad to see Keggo again and carried her greeting straight on into +excuses for her share in their long sundering. "More than a year! You +know, the fact is, Keggo, that when I first left the Sultana's, and for +quite a time afterwards, I used to gush. I did! I was so frightfully +full of all I was doing and it was all so new and so wonderful and I was +so excited about it that it was sheer letting off steam--gush--to write +you reams and reams of letters about it as I used to do. Then it got +normal and the--the tumultuousness of it wore off and I was just--I am, +you know--just absolutely absorbed in it and there was no more steam to +let off; all the energy went into the work, I suppose. So gradually, I +suppose, without quite realising it, I gave up writing. But, oh, if you +knew how glad I am to see you now!" + +Miss Keggs to all this presented only a fixed smile. A smile belongs +much more to the eyes than to the lips. The lips, but not the eyes, can +counterfeit a smile. False coin is "uttered" as they say in law; and the +lips utter. Not so the eyes. All metal that the mouth issues is to be +tested there. The expression in Miss Keggs's eyes was not at all in +consonance with that of her mouth. The expression of her eyes was rather +oddly vacant as you may see on the face of a person who is apparently +attending to what you are saying but really is listening to another +conversation in the same room. "Not listening" as it is called. "An +absent look" as they say. + +Nevertheless she joined dove-tailed response to Rosalie's words. "To +tell you the truth," said Miss Keggs, speaking very slowly and repeating +the preamble. "To tell you the truth I wouldn't have received your +letters if you had written them." + +"You wouldn't? Why not?" + +"To tell you the truth--" there had been a pause before she first spoke; +a pause again before this reply and then again a beginning with this +phrase about which there was nothing odd in itself but something odd in +the manner of its use by Miss Keggs. "To tell you the truth, I've left +the school." + +"Left the Sultana's!" + +Miss Keggs nodded with slow inclinations, like grave bows, of her head. + +"Whatever for? Keggo, when, why?" And then Rosalie, impelled by some +apprehension that suddenly pressed her, put a quick hand on Keggo's arm +and cried sharply, "Keggo! There is something very strange about you. +What has happened to you? Something has happened. You can't keep it from +me." + +But Keggo could. At that quick gesture of suspicion of Rosalie's, +animation sprung to meet it as a cat, at a sudden start, will leap from +profound slumber to a place of safety and to arched defence. Miss Keggs, +in their first exchanges, might have been as one drowsily answering +questions from a bed. She was suddenly, in her instant casting away of +her absent air, as that one flinging away the bedclothes and leaping +upright to the floor. What had she been saying? She had been quite lost +in something she was thinking of when Rosalie came up. She scarcely had +recollected her. She had been very, very ill with "this influenza" and +still was only convalescent. Why, how very, very glad she was to see her +dear Rosalie again! And how Rosalie had developed! + +"Why, Rosalie, you are beautiful! You are! And you don't blush or simper +to hear it! Yes, you are beautiful." + +There was a little room in a street somewhere off the Harrow Road that +Miss Keggs now occupied. It was a forbidding street. It was one of those +derelict streets frequent in certain quarters of London, in Holloway, in +Kentish Town, in Kilburn and all over South London, all about which life +teems and roars but where, along their own pavements, no life is. They +are most characteristic of themselves, these streets, when, as often to +be seen, there is no soul along them but a sad drab that is an itinerant +singer that drifts along wailing, at every few paces shuffling her body +in complete turns to scan the windows she has passed and the immediate +windows on either hand. She has no home and these are not homes to which +she wails. There is no flicker of life at any window. She's a sad drab, +repulsive within; and they are sad drabs, not nice within. At night, +but not before dusk, forlorn things flicker in and out of them like drab +ghosts had on the strings of a puppet show. By day there sometimes is +an old man crawling in or crawling out; sometimes a woman, always with +a parcel or a net bag, fleeting along, expressionless. The high houses, +all of one pattern, appear to have no pattern. They are like dead walls +and the place they enclose like a vault, and the itinerant drab like +a thing in drab cerements (they trail the dust) that ought to be dead +wailing for entrance to things, tombed in those walls, that are dead. +There is no life at all in these streets. There is nothing active +or positive. There is just passivity and negation. There is just +nothingness. They are not habitations, which connote life; they are +repositories, which connote desuetude. They are the repositories of +creatures, not that have done with life, for the sheer fact of living +acknowledges service to life, but with whom life has done. + +These came to be Rosalie's thoughts of this street--Limpen Street--but +they could not have been hers when she was first going there to spend +evenings with Miss Keggs, for it was in her earlier visits there to +Keggo that she cried there. When she could cry for pure compassion for +another she was still too--too ardent for Limpen Street to be seen as it +has been presented. From the first it affected her disagreeably but she +would have felt, then, a sympathy for its state, and a belief that it +could be aroused out of its state, and a wish so to arouse it; and in +her earlier visits she had ardently this sympathy, but it was raised to +a profound compassion; this belief, but it was a conviction; and this +wish, but it was a resolution, in regard to Keggo. + +For Keggo was drinking. + +Keggo had been drinking for years and years and now Keggo had walled +herself away in Limpen Street to drink and drink, still secretly with +the sharp cunning of the secret drinker, but now with cunning only +necessary when of her own wish she met the world. At the Sultana's, +(only Mr. Ponders in her secret, and in her pay; "that vile man" +as, after the revelation, she always spoke of him to Rosalie) at the +Sultana's and in all her life of that period she was, as it were, as one +whose life is threatened, dwelling among spies; that breastplate of her +cunning never could be laid off then; now, as one threatened, but secure +in a castle, the breastplate only was needed when sallies forth were +made. There was at the Sultana's the need of constant care to inhibit +her cravings; there now was none to save her--unless Rosalie did. + +There is no need at all to tell all this and all that by which Rosalie +was led to this most terrible discovery and Keggo impelled to her most +painful revelation. There was deceit and its exposure; lies and +their crumpling in the hand; mystifications and their sinister +interpretations; contingencies and their ugly dissolutions. These would +be all beastly to tell. Beastly is a vile word but this is a vile +thing. There was about it all, all the time, a tainted and unwholesome +atmosphere. There was always in the little room in Limpen Street that +strange disagreeable smell of bad eau-de-Cologne that always had hung +about the little room at the Sultana's. + +Beastly things.... + +But they were not felt to be beastly by Rosalie, then. They are said +here to be beastly, for they were beastly, only in excuse for Rosalie +afterwards. They only were to her, then, intensely sad, most deeply +pitiful, intensely increasing of her love for Keggo as pure love is +increased by seeing its object in tortures that may not be helped +because they will not be confessed. If only Keggo would tell her! Once +or twice she said to Keggo, speaking with an entreaty that must have +made obvious to Keggo her knowledge, "Keggo, haven't you something to +tell me; something that you'd like to tell me?" The occasion was always +when she was leaving after a visit that had found Keggo very unwell, +very dejected of spirits, and that Keggo had at last terminated by +saying, "I think perhaps you had better go, Rosalie. I think perhaps I'd +be better lying down." But Keggo's answer always was, "Something to tell +you? No, nothing at all! What should I have to tell you?" + +And then one day something said brought them very near to the matter +between them. Miss Keggs came nearer yet. She said, "The fact is, +Rosalie, I sometimes get so I simply cannot make an effort, the smallest +effort. I believe when I'm like that if a thousand pounds were offered +me for the going out and asking of it, and God knows I want it badly +enough, I simply could not make the effort to do it. I'd simply let it +pass and know that I was letting it pass and not care. That's how it's +got with me, how it is sometimes with me, Rosalie." + +Rosalie said with extraordinary emphasis, leaning forward on the chair +in which she sat facing Keggo. "Why is it, Keggo?" + +If Keggo had answered, the thing would not have happened. Keggo did not +answer. She was sitting with her hands crossed, one palm upon the +other, and resting on her lap, her eyes to the ground. Quite a long time +passed. Rosalie said, "You're drinking, aren't you, Keggo?" + +"Yes, drinking, Rosalie." + +"Oh, Keggo!" + +It was then that Rosalie cried. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Sne cried. Her sympathies, though drying and slower now to be aroused, +still then were such that she could weep for pity. It is a glimpse of +her not to be seen again. There was she on her knees by Keggo, and with +her arms about Keggo's waist, and with her head on Keggo's lap, +crying for Keggo; and in the pauses of Keggo's unfolding of her story +entreating her, as one that cried responses to a litany, "Don't mind, +Keggo! Keggo, don't mind now! Dear Keggo, poor Keggo, it's all right +now." + +And presently all the tale told: what Mr. Ponders' medicine was; and all +the humiliation suffered in keeping in with "that vile man"; and that +vile man's betrayal of her to the Sultana, and her dismissal; and all +the earlier dreadfulness of her first steps down into her dreadful +malady; and all the dreadful secrecy of all those years; and all the +horrible humiliation secretly to get her poison; and all the horrible +humiliations when her poison got. All the dark tale of that presently +told; and her head bowed down to Rosalie's, and Rosalie's wet face +against her face, and her face also wet; and just her murmurs, murmured +at intervals, as though her heart that had discharged its grievous load +ran slowly now, slowly to rise and then to well with, "God bless you, +Rosalie; oh, Rosalie, God bless you"; and for a long time just seated +thus, cheek to cheek, hand to hand, heart to heart; weakness bound about +with strength, sorrow in pity's arms, travail in sanctuary.... + +It is desired that one should try to see that picture. Its counterpart +was not again in the life of Rosalie, hardening. + +There were, after that, such happy evenings in Keggo's room. Keggo, +with one to help her, fighting for herself; Rosalie, with one to help, +elevated upon that high happiness that comes with fighting for another. +For a short time there seemed to be no lapses in Keggo's struggle. When +they came (as Rosalie knew afterwards) the practised cunning of years of +secrecy had no difficulty in concealing them from the unsuspecting eyes +of Rosalie. Ill that it was so! Rosalie was harder when came the lapse +that cunning could not hide. She did not cry. Her eyes were hard. She +said with thin lips, "Why, even all this time you have been deceiving +me!" the which egged on, in that vile way in which exchanges of a +quarrel are as knives sharpening one against the other, Keggo's enflamed +retort, "The more fool you! Little fool!" + +But at first, while the lapses were few and the cunning was equal to +them, only a closer friendship was set afoot between the woman that was +grown and the woman that was burgeoning, and there were such very happy +evenings in the room in Limpen Street. Such jolly talks. + +There was one talk that, forgotten with the very evening of its passage, +afterwards very strongly returned to Rosalie and abode with her. It had +in it rather vital things for Rosalie. + +She loved to talk about her work with intelligent and sympathetic Keggo, +and she had been on this occasion expounding to her the mysteries and +interest of life insurance: in particular explaining the "romance" of +vital statistics; in particular, again, the curious fact that, though +women in the United Kingdom largely outnumbered men, many more male +children were born than female. The disproportion "the other way about" +in maturity, said Rosalie, was because the death rate among men was much +higher--due to risks of their occupations. "A certain number of house +painters," said Rosalie sagely, "fall off ladders every year and are +killed; women don't paint houses, so they don't fall off ladders and get +killed. Similarly on railways, Keggo. The death rate among railway men +is much higher in proportion, over an average, than the rate in any +other occupation. Porters doing shunting, for instance, are always +getting killed. Well, women don't shunt trains so they don't get killed +while shunting trains, so there you are again, so to speak. The thing in +a nutshell, Keggo, is that, by contrast, men lead dangerous lives." + +Keggo, who always was very alert in response, was here very long in +responding. Then she responded an extraordinary thing that Rosalie +afterwards remembered. She said slowly, "Oh, but Rosalie, it's very +dangerous to be a woman." + +Rosalie questioned her. + +Keggo said, "Rosalie, you've great ideas, and I think very shrewd and +very striking ideas, about the difference between men and women, but +there's this difference I think you haven't thought of--the danger that +women carry in themselves; right in them, here"--she had a hand against +her breast and she pressed it there--"born in them, inerradicable, and +that men have not. Men go into dangers but they come out of them and go +home to tea. That's what it is with men, Rosalie. They can always get +out. They can always come back. They never belong to a thing, body and +soul and heart and mind. Rosalie, women do. That's their danger. That's +why it is so very, very dangerous being a woman. Women can't come back. +They can't, Rosalie. Look at me. They take to a thing and it becomes a +craze, it becomes an obsession, it becomes a drug. Look at me. They take +to a thing--anything; a poison like mine, or a pursuit like some one +else's, or an idea like some other's, or a--a career in life like, like +yours, Rosalie,--they take to it and go deep enough, and they're its; +they never will get away from it, they never, never will be able to come +out of it. Never." + +She was extraordinarily vehement. It was embarrassing for Rosalie. +Rosalie desired to contest, as vehemently, these theories. She did +not believe them a bit. They were founded, she felt, on the tragedy of +Keggo's own case. Keggo was unfairly, though very naturally, arguing +from the particular to the general, from the personal to the abstract. +But how could she reply to Keggo, "Of course you say that?" + +She was silent; but she betrayed perhaps her thoughts in a gesture, her +difficulty in some expression of her face. + +Keggo said very intensely, "But, Rosalie, if you only knew! With me +it's drink and you'll say--. But I say to you, Rosalie, never, never let +anything get the mastery of you. With me it's drink and you'll say that +is a matter altogether different, with which parallels are not to be +drawn. Oh, do not believe it, Rosalie. A woman should in all things be +desperately temperate--watchfully, desperately temperate. A man--nearly +every man--seems somehow to have his life and all his interests in +compartments. He can be immersed in one while he is in it, and can get +out of it and distribute himself over his others and close it and +forget it. Rosalie, a woman can't. Men have hobbies. They don't have +attachments; they have detachments. They detach themselves and turn to +a thing and they detach themselves from it and turn back again. Rosalie, +women don't turn to a thing; they go to it. They don't have hobbies, +they have obsessions. They don't trifle, they plunge. They cannot sip, +they drain. It's in their bone. They never would have occupied the place +they do occupy if it were not that from the beginning they have given +themselves over, or they were given over, to mastery. They are the +weaker vessel. Rosalie, I tell you this, when a woman gives herself, +forgets moderation and gives herself to anything, she is its captive for +ever. She may think she can come back, but she can't come back. For a +woman there is no comeback. They don't issue return tickets to women. +For women there is only departure; there is no return." + +Rosalie said, "Keggo, I think I could argue, but I won't. But what I +can't imagine is the application of it in hundreds of cases--in by far +the great majority of cases. Take mine. You're not warning me, are you? +I don't see the possibility--" + +Keggo said, "Darling, I'm not warning you and yet I am. I am warning you +because you are a woman; and because you are a woman you are susceptible +to danger. It's what I've said; it's what I would have you remember +for a day perhaps to come, that it is dangerous being a woman. I'm not +warning you, because there's nothing to--well, but isn't there? You've +got a theory of life and you are bent upon a career in life. There's--" + +Rosalie cried, "Well, but there you are, Keggo. No comeback, no return +tickets--well, I don't want to come back; I don't want a return ticket." + +"You might. You never know. Suppose you ever did?" + +"But you can't suppose it. Why ever should I?" + +"Suppose you wanted to marry?" + +Rosalie laughed. The thing immediately lost reality. "Well, suppose the +incredible. Suppose I did. There'd be no comeback wanted there. I could +perfectly well marry and still keep my theory of life; I could perfectly +well marry and still keep on in my career--and most certainly I would +still keep on. Why, that is my theory of life, as you call it, or a very +outstanding principle of it. There's nothing to me more detestable +in the whole business than the idea that because a woman marries she +therefore must give up her work. That's what is the reason the boarding +house and every boarding house and every home and street and city swarms +with derelicts--with derelict women--just because their lives are all +planned as blind alley occupations, marriage at the end of the alley, +no need to do anything, no need to be anything because it's only a blind +alley you're in. When you reach the end--you reach the end! That's it, +Keggo. You reach the end. You're a woman, therefore for you--the end!" + +She laughed again. She was returning Keggo's vehemence without +embarrassment upon the subject that had made return difficult. She +cried, "I've got you now, Keggo. I really have. You say they don't issue +return tickets to women. No. Perhaps they don't; but I'll tell you where +they book them all to--from the cradle to a terminus." + +Keggo smiled and would have spoken. But Rosalie was pleased with her +adroit turning of metaphors. She repeated "To a terminus. Well, I've +booked beyond, Keggo." She laughed again. "And then the idea of marriage +for me! I've granted the preposterous just for the sake of the argument +and just to floor the argument. But you know, you know perfectly well +from all our talks, even so far back as at the Sultana's, that it's +simply too grotesque! Marriage, for me! Why, if a million men came to +me on their bended knees, each with a million pounds on their backs +you know perfectly well that I'd just feel sick. Tame cats, tabby cats, +tomcats, Cheshire cats, wild cats, stray cats,--I'm not going to set up +a cats' home. No thanks." + +So Rosalie had the laugh of that evening. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +But this was not to continue. Keggo began to lapse; Rosalie began to +weary of helping Keggo. She had herself to think of. Those who go down +in life, whether by age or by misfortune, are prone, engulfed, to cry to +those ascending, "You could help me!" There is a correct answer to this. +It is, "I have done (or I do) a great deal for you. I cannot do more. It +is not fair to ask me to do more. I have a duty to myself. I have myself +to think of." Our generation endorses this. + +Rosalie had herself to think of. By stages that need not be detailed, +they are the common facts of life, the thing passes from that picture +of those two with Rosalie's strong young arms about the other to a new +picture, the last, between them. + +The stages show Rosalie's enormous, ardent plans for the rescue and +rehabilitation of Keggo, and they show the projection and the failure of +the plans. They show work found for Keggo (through Simcox's scholastic +side) and lost and found again and again lost and still again. They +show Keggo's remorse and they show Rosalie's forgiveness. They show it +repeated and repeated. They show by degrees the gradual, and then the +rapid, staling of Rosalie's fond sympathies. They show her finally, +immersed in her own purposeful interests, discovering to herself +feelings in regard to Keggo on a plane with feelings discovered to +herself in regard to her mother. It has been written: "Her mother was +ageing rapidly. Rosalie could have wept to see the ageing signs; +but somehow, seeing them, did not weep; was not moved; received the +impression but was not sensitive to it; felt the tug but did not respond +to the pull. Rather, indeed, was apt to be a little impatient." It is +not necessary to expand. Keggo was fast going downhill. Rosalie could +have wept to see the downhill signs; but somehow, seeing them, did not +weep; was not moved... rather, indeed... impatient. She had herself to +think of. + +Youth's an excuse for youth as childhood's an excuse for childishness. +Youth, still, like childhood, but unlike maturity, can be lost in its +emotions, absorbed in them to the exclusion of all else, abandoned to +them with all else pitched away as a swimmer discards his every stitch +and joyously plunges in the stream. Youth is not accountable for its +actions then: it is too happy or it is too sad. One oughtn't to blame +youth, immersed. + +There was outstandingly one such day of absorption in delight, of +abandonment to ecstasy for Rosalie, and it was the day on which she made +her third advance in the social grade of Miss Kentish's boarding house +and moved into the two rooms en suite, furnished and decorated by +herself to her own taste. She awoke to this great day, long anticipated; +and with the vigorous action of throwing off the clothes and jumping out +of bed, she plunged into it and was lost in it. The excitement and +the elation of taking possession of that enchanting, that significant +apartment of her own! She was excited; she was elated. Moving in was +the cumulative excitement of all the long-drawn, anxious excitements of +peering round the antique dealers and picking up the bits of furniture +and of placing them and moving them a shade to this side and then a +shade to that till was found the one and only exact position that suited +them and that they suited; and the terrible excitements of watching the +decorators at work, her scheme developing beneath their hands, and +the awful knowledge that now it was being done it was done for good or +bad--no altering it now!--and the agonizing excitements of putting down +the carpets--how can you tell exactly how a carpet is going to +look until you see it actually down upon its floor and between its +walls?--and the increasing excitement all the time of the knowledge +that everything was harmonising and was looking just as in dreams of the +ideal it had been made to look; and now all ready! The bed-sitting-room +slept in last night for the last time; the two utterly perfect rooms and +all that their possession connoted, to be occupied that evening for the +first time! Yes, in all the tumultuous pride and engrossment of that, +there was no place--how could there be place?--for tiresome things of +other people's worlds, if such should offer. + +And in this tremendous day there was stuff more tremendous yet. This +also was the day on whose evening was made the tremendous tribute to her +work and to her talent, the evening of the dazzling offer that, like +a door swung open on a treasure house, disclosed to her new fields to +which her career had brought her, new triumphs that her career, in its +stride, might make her own--the evening when Mr. Sturgiss of Field's +Bank leant across the dinner table in his house (at his request only she +and himself left in the room) and said in his quiet voice, "Well, +look here--to come to the point--the reason I've got you up here +to-night--it's this: we want you, Field and Company, the Bank, we want +you to join us. We want you in Lombard Street." + +Lombard Street! + +Cumulative also was this thrill, for it had begun some few days +previously when Mr. Sturgiss, calling at Simcox's for a chat with Mr. +Simcox, an old friend, had come into her room and after mysteriously +fidgetting with business and conversational trifles, had issued +the invitation to dinner at his house at Cricklewood in language +mysteriously couched. "My wife would like to meet you," said Mr. +Sturgiss. "She's heard a lot from me, and from Field, of what an +astonishingly clever young person we think you and she'd--she'd like to +meet you. And more than that." Mr. Sturgiss's halting speech suddenly +became direct and definitive like a flag that had been fluttering +suddenly streaming upon the breeze. "And more than that. The fact is, +there's a proposition I want to put up to you. A proposition. We could +go into it quietly and discuss it. I rather think it would interest you. +I'm sure it will. You'll come? Good. I'm very glad. Very glad." + +A proposition! From Mr. Sturgiss! Of Field and Company! What could it +be? + +But Rosalie was not of the sort to tread the succeeding days on the +enchanted air of fond surmises. She told herself that the mysterious +proposition might be everything or might be nothing: the fact that +outstood was that she had brought her aspirations to this--that a +partner in a London bank recognised in her stuff sufficient to invite +her to a confidential meeting, there to go into something with her +"quietly together," to meet together over something and "discuss +it." She had determined to establish herself and she was establishing +herself. And was it not an omen propitious and significant that this +recognition of her parts was to fall on the very day on which the +exercise of those parts brought her into the dignity and comfort of that +delicious, that significant apartment of her own? + +This solid stuff, and no mere daydreams, was the delight absorbing her +and the ecstasy to which she was abandoned when that great day came. In +the morning she put the last of her possessions, the equipment of her +dressing table, into the new apartment; after the day spent at Simcox's, +she returned to dress for the first time before the noble cheval glass +purchased for the bedroom. She decided to go up in a hat; it could be +removed or not for dinner as Mrs. Sturgiss might seem to indicate. She +put on an evening bodice of black silk and net with a simple skirt in +keeping. She gave last approving glances about the delightful rooms and +set out, immersed in eager happiness, for Cricklewood. + +One of those old red buses that vied with the white Putney buses as +being the best horsed on the London routes took her there. Up the +Edgware Road; past the junction with the Harrow Road that led to Keggo's +street--she only had for it the thought that it was weeks since she had +seen Keggo, almost months; along broad Maida Vale and past the turning +that led to the Sultana's with the corner where often the crocodile had +huddled--and she was so engrossed in her happy achievements that she +passed it without thinking of it. The bus terminated its journey at the +foot of Shoot Up Hill. Rosalie, called upon to alight, came out of her +thoughts into her surroundings. She realised that she must have passed +Crocodile Corner without noticing and the realisation caused her to give +a little note of amused indifference. The indifference was not directed +precisely at the Sultana's; it was at the idea, which came to her, that, +normally to human predilections, she ought to have given--ought now to +give--a sentimental thought to memories of the Sultana years. Well, +she did not. Funny! Yes, it was funny. As she sometimes thought of her +mother and of all her home ties; of Miss Salmon and that cry of hers of +never being able to find another lover; of Keggo now so seldom seen +and known to be going from bad to worse,--so with memories of Crocodile +Corner and the Sultana's, she could see and appreciate the call of all +these attachments, but somehow, seeing and appreciating, did not respond +to them. What a very curious attitude! It was not unfeeling for she +could feel. It was not insensibility for she was sensitive to such +things. Sensitive! No, a better word than that. She was in such matters +sensible. She saw, as one should see, these things in their right +perspective. They were touching (as of her mother) or they were sad (as +of Keggo) or they were appealing (as the happy schoolgirl memories) +but they must not touch or sadden or appeal too closely. They must be +estimated in their degree and in their place; they must not be assumed, +be shouldered, be permitted to cumber. No good could be done to them by +encumbrance with them. That was the point. What good could it do them? +No good. Yes, that was sensible. + +She abated, in these thoughts, nothing of the eagerness with which she +was living this great day--the day whose points of suspension (on +which it tumultuously revolved) were the taking over of the significant +apartment from which she had just come and the entering upon the +significant invitation to which now her feet were taking her. These +thoughts, this analysis of her attitude to sentimental appeals, she +tossed upon her eager happiness that was her being as an airball tossed +upon laughing breath that yet is used, breathing, to support life. And +she was aware that this was so. And she enjoyed a flash of approval of +herself that it could be so; it was admirable, it was sensible, thus +to be able to detach and look upon a portion of her mind while her main +mind deflected not a shade from its occupation with the main chance. +That faculty was perhaps the secret of her success, the quality, that, +in exercise, had brought her to the significant apartment and to the +significant invitation. + +She was at the gate of Mr. Sturgiss's house and she most happily passed +up the short drive, ascended the steps and rang the bell. + +Mr. Sturgiss's house was almost on the summit of Shoot Up Hill. It was +one of those houses standing a few miles along the main thoroughfares +out of London that, now in decay or displaced by busy shops, packed +villas, or monstrous flats, were then the distinctly impressive +residences of distinctly well-to-do business people. Mr. Sturgiss was +a distinctly well-to-do business person. The house, double-fronted, had +that third sitting-room which confers such an immense superiority over +houses of but two sitting-rooms--"Such a convenience in so many ways" +as those newly promoted from two to three nowadays remark with +languid triumph to visitors still immured in two. Houses--new, two +sitting-roomed houses--extended beyond it and around it, and now stretch +miles beyond and about, but Mrs. Sturgiss told Rosalie that when they +first came there they actually had cows grazing and horses ploughing in +fields adjoining their garden. + +Mrs. Sturgiss told Rosalie this while personally attending Rosalie's +removal of her hat (it was "no hat"; Rosalie felt so glad she had come +dressed for either indication) and Mrs. Sturgiss sighed pleasantly as +she said it. "Things are going ahead at such a pace now!" said Mrs. +Sturgiss. "It's all very different from what it used to be. Why, the +very fact of your coming here, not as my guest but as my husband's, 'on +business!' The idea of women being in business, or even knowing anything +about business, when I was a girl, why, I can't tell you how, how +positively shocking it would have been considered." + +Rosalie laughed. She liked Mrs. Sturgiss, who was motherly and seemed to +have her own dear mother's gentle ways--this personally attending her in +her bedroom, for instance. "Oh, there are getting to be heaps of women +in business now, Mrs. Sturgiss," she smiled. + +Mrs. Sturgiss returned brightly, "Oh, I know it. I know it well." She +paused and her voice had a thoughtful note. "But even then.... Use the +long mirror, my dear; the light is better. Even then, there can be few +as,--as much in it as you. You know, my husband has an immense idea of +your abilities. He has spoken of you so much. Do you know, you are +a great surprise to me, now I see you. I could only imagine from all +John's idea of you a rather terrible looking blue-stocking, as we used +to call the clever women." She came and stood by Rosalie, regarding the +image in the glass that Rosalie regarded. She said simply, "But you are +beautiful." + +A very odd feeling, akin to tears--but for what on earth +tears?--quickened in Rosalie. She turned sharply from the mirror. "I am +quite ready now." She pretended she had not heard. + +Mrs. Sturgiss said, "My dear, do you like it, being what you are?" + +It was a great rescue for Rosalie to be able to spring away from that +odd feeling (in her bosom and in her throat) by swift animation. "Oh, +I love it. I simply love it. It is everything to me, everything in the +world!" + +Mrs. Sturgiss opened the door. "No, you go first, my dear. But if I had +had a dear girl, such as you, I would have wished her to stay with me at +home." + +She had made with her hand the gesture of her wish that Rosalie should +precede her from the room. Rosalie impulsively touched the extended +fingers. "But, Mrs. Sturgiss, don't you see, that's just it, the +idea there is now. If you had had a daughter and she had stayed at +home--well, let that go, while you were with her. But when you died and +left her, what would there be--don't you see it?--what would there be +for her then?" + +Mrs. Sturgiss pressed the warm young hand. "But I would have left her +married, a dear wife and a dear mother." + +"Oh, that!" cried Rosalie and her stronger personality carried off the +exchanges in a laugh. Mrs. Sturgiss thought the expression and the tone +meant, happily, that marriage might happen to any one, in the market as +much as in the home. Rosalie, with all the fierce contempt that her +"Oh, that!" conveyed to her secret self, was ridden strongly away from +emotionalism in the conversation. Her thought as they went downstairs +was, "If I were to instruct her in the cat-men! Her horror!" + +There was downstairs a surprise that was very annoying, but that +was made to produce compensations. An unexpected fourth person, +presuming--so Rosalie was given to understand--on a long standing, +indefinite invitation, had dropped in to dinner. She recognised him +directly they entered the drawing-room and could not stop the emblem of +a swift vexation about her mouth and in her eyes. He caught it, she +was sure; and she hoped he did. It was Harry Occleve--Laetitia's futile +slave! He had already informed his host that he knew her. She greeted +him with a mere touch of her hand, a touch made cold by intent, and with +"With a free evening off one would have expected you would spend it with +Laetitia," said disdainfully. It was a rude and inept thing to say (in +the tone she said it) for the feeble creature, as she stigmatised him, +had not yet screwed his fatuous idolatry to the point of proposal of +marriage. But she intended it to be rude and to discomfort him and she +was glad to see some twinge at the flick pass across his face. She hated +his presence there. The presence of any man, in the capacity of a monkey +to entertain and to be entertained, was always, not to put too fine a +point upon it, repulsive to her. This man was of all men obnoxious +to her. When he approached her for their brief greeting (she turned +instantly away at its conclusion) she savoured immediately that odd, +nice smell there was about him, of mingled soap and peat and fresh +tobacco smoke and tweed; and that annoyed her. It was a reminder, +emanated from him and therefore not to be escaped, of a distinction he +had different from, and above common men. She always granted him +his distinction of looks, of air, of talent. It was why she so much +disdained him. To be dowered so well and so fatuously to betray his +dowry! Tame cat! + +But she made him, through the meal, pay compensations for his presence. +At the table of Aunt Belle, in his presence she was accustomed to sit +largely silent. Beautiful Laetitia was there the star; and while he +mouthed and languished in that star's rays Aunt Belle and Uncle Pyke, +(stealing about him to capture him as a farmer and his wife with mincing +steps and tempting morsel towards a fatted calf) fawned, flattered and +deferred to him, he returning it. There was no place for her, and she +would have shuddered to have held a place, in that society for mutual +admiration. She sat apart. She was very much the poor relation (Aunt +Belle could not comprehend her business success and Uncle Pyke would not +admit it) and especially odious to her was the Occleve's polite interest +in her direction when Aunt Belle, poor-relationing her, would turn to +her from coquettish raillery of him with, "Dear child, you're eating +nothing." He would smile towards her and, fatuously anxious to please, +offer some remark that might draw her into the conversation. She never +would be so drawn. She scarcely ever exchanged words with him. She made +herself to be unconscious of his presence. He was so occupied with his +adoration of Laetitia that to be insensible of his presence was easy. +When sometimes she glanced towards him it was with the thought, "Fancy +being one of the rising young men at the Bar, being the rising young +man--the Bar, with silk and ermine and, why not? the Woolsack before +you--and being that, doing that! Fatted calf; dilly, dilly, come and be +killed, goose; tame cat!" + +Here, at the table of Mr. Sturgiss, it was very different. Intolerable +that he should be here, but she was able to make him provide her +compensation for his presumption. For the first time in her life, she +found herself with sufficient interest in a man to enjoy, nay, to seek, +a triumph over him. And she had that triumph. She was as certain as that +she sat there that Mr. Sturgiss, in the period before her arrival in +the drawing-room, had been telling him of her abilities and of his high +regard for her. There was an interest in his look at her across the +table that assured her he had been informed. There was, much more, a +conviction within her, from Mr. Sturgiss's manner and from his choice of +subjects--confined almost entirely and to the absolute exclusion of Mrs. +Sturgiss to the political situation and to markets, exchanges and the +general tendency in the City--and particularly from the openings in +these subjects with which continuously he presented her--a conviction +arising out of these that Mr. Sturgiss, proud of her, of his discovery +of her, was bent upon showing her off to his second guest, bent upon +proving to his second guest what unquestionably he had said to him about +her. + +She most admirably responded. If she were indeed the subject of a +challenge she most admirably flattered her backer. She is not to be +imagined as a pundit excavating from within herself slabs of profound +wisdom, nor yet as a pupil astoundingly instructing her masters, nor +even as one of Mrs. Sturgiss's blue stockings, packed with surprising +lore. Rosalie was nothing so foolishly impossible, but she displayed +herself knowledgeable. She was profoundly interested in the matters +under notice and therefore (for it follows) she was interesting in +her contributions to them; she was fascinated--the old fascination of +"Lombard Street" and of "The English Constitution" now intensified as +desire intensifies by gratification--and therefore she fascinated; she +was never silly--Rosalie could not be silly--but she was frequently in +her remarks ingenuous, but her ingenuousness, causing Mr. Sturgiss +more than once to laugh delightedly (Occleve, curiously grave, no doubt +because surprised, did not laugh) was born out of a shrewd touch towards +the heart of the matter, as the best schoolboy howlers are never the +work of the dullard but of him that has perceptions. Of her in her +childhood it has been said that she was never the wonder-child of +fiction who at ten has read all that its author probably had not read at +thirty. So now of her budding maturity she was not the wonder-woman of +fiction, causing by her brilliance her hearers, like Cortez's men, to +stare at each other with a wild surmise. No, nothing so unlikely. But +she was intelligent and she was ardent; and there are not boundaries to +the distance one may go with that equipment. She was admirable and +she felt that she was effective. She had a consciousness of confidence +amounting almost to a feeling of being tuned up and now let go; to a +feeling of power, as of inspiration. And this strange animation that she +had, came, she knew, from the triumph over that man, from the feeling, +stated grimly, that she was giving him one. + +It is much more important, all that, than, when it came, the great +reason of the great invitation that had brought Rosalie to take part in +it. The great reason already has been disclosed--Mr. Sturgiss, bending +across the tablecloth, they two left alone, "Well, look here--to come +to the point--the reason why I've got you up here tonight--it's this: +we want you--Field and Company, the Bank,--we want you to come to us--we +want you in Lombard Street." + +She was beautiful to see in her proud happiness at that. Startled and +tremulous, she was; like some lovely fawn burst from thicket and at +breathless poise upon the crest of unsuspected pastures; within her +eyes the cloud of dreams passing like veils upon the gleam of her first +ecstasy; upon her face, shadowed as she sinks somewhat back, the tide +of colour (her rosy joy) flooding above her sudden pallor; her lips +slightly parted; her hand that had been plucking at the cloth caught to +her bosom where her heart had leapt. + +It may be left at that. It is enough; too much. What, in the +reconstruction of a life, are, in retrospect, its triumphs but empty +shards, drained and discarded, the litter of a picnic party that has fed +and passed along? + +Mr. Sturgiss bent farther across the tablecloth, expanding his proposal: +She knew, said he, what he represented, what the firm was. Field and +Company. A private bank. Well, the days of private banks were drawing +in. These huge joint-stock leviathans swallowing them up like pike among +the troutlings. But not swallowing up Field and Company! Not much! +If the old private houses were tumbling into the joint-stock maw, the +greater the chances for those that stood out and remained. The private +banks were tumbling in because they stood rooted in the old, solid, +stolid banking business and the leviathans came along and pounced while +they dozed. There was no dozing at Field's. They were very much awake. +They were enterprising. + +"Look at this very matter between us. The idea of bringing a woman into +a bank! Even old Field himself was startled at first. Why? In America, +women are entering banking seriously and successfully. They're going to +in England. At Field's. You." He wasn't proposing to bring her in for +fun or for a chance that might turn up, like the man who picked up a dog +biscuit from the road on the chance that some one would give him a +dog before it got mildewed; no, he was bringing her in to develop an +enterprise that should be the parent of other and greater enterprises. +Her knowledge of insurance, her knowledge of schools, these, with +her sex, on the one side of the counter and all their clients--the +Anglo-Indian crowd who were the backbone of the business--on the other +side of the counter. Field's, for cash, and, while it was drawing, for +advice, was always the first port of call of the wives and the mothers +home from India, to say nothing of the husbands and the fathers,--"well, +Field's, you, shall be the fount of all that domestic advice that +is just what all those people, cut off from home, are constantly and +distractingly in need of." She didn't suppose, as it was, that Field's +did no more, for them than bank their money? Field's were their agents. +Field's saw that they booked their passages, and that their baggage got +aboard; and when they arrived this end or the other, or when they broke +their journeys coming or going, Field's representatives were there to +meet them and take over all their baggage troubles for them. "Very well. +Now Field's--you--are going to look after their domestic troubles for +them--find them rooms, find them houses, find them schools for their +children. When people know what we can do for them, people will come to +us to bank with us because we can do it. When people come to us to bank +with us--we go ahead." + +Mr. Sturgiss ended and drew back and looked at her. He lit a cigarette +and took a sip at his coffee. "We thought of offering you three--" he +set down his cup and looked at her again--"four hundred a year." + +She declined the post. She was girlish, and delighted him, in her +expression of her enormous sense of the compliment he paid her; she was +a woman of uncommon purposefulness, and increased his admiration for her +by the directness and decision with which uncompromisingly she said him +no. She owed a loyalty which she could never fully pay to Simcox's, to +Mr. Simcox; that was the beginning and the end of her refusal. Simcox's +was her own, her idea, her child that daily she saw growing and that +daily absorbed her more: that was the material that filled in and +stiffened out the joints of her refusal. "But if you knew how proud I +am, Mr. Sturgiss! You don't mind my refusing?" + +He laughed and rose to take her to the drawing-room. "I don't mind a +bit. This is only what they call preliminary overtures. I shall ask you +again. We mean to have you." + +Between the two rooms he said, "Yes, mean to. It's a big thing. I'm +certain of it. We shall keep it open for you. We shan't fill it." He put +his hand on the drawing-room door and opened it. "We can't." + +She went in radiant. + +She was on the red bus again, going home. She had stayed but the +briefest time after dinner. She was too elevated, too buoyant, too +possessed possibly to remain in company; excitedly desirous to be alone +with her excited thoughts,--especially to be alone with them in that +significant apartment of hers. Significant! Why upon the very day of +entering it had come this most triumphant sign of its significance! +Significant!... + +She had a front seat on the outside of the omnibus. She gazed before +her along a path of night that the lamps jewelled in chains of gold, +and streamed along it her tumultuous thoughts, terrible as an army with +banners. It was very strange, and it vexed her, robbing her of her proud +consciousness of them, that there obtruded among them, as one plucking +at her skirt--as captain of them she rode before them--the figure of +Laetitia's Harry. Similarly he had obtruded and been like to spoil the +pleasure of her visit; but he had been made to provide compensations and +he obtruded now only in rebirth of a passage with him that, rehearsed +again, much pleased her even while, annoyed, she cut him down. + +Taking her leave, she had been seen from the threshold by Mr. Sturgiss +and by Laetitia's Harry. It was pitchy dark, emerging from the +brightness of the interior, and he had stepped with her to conduct her +to the gate. "It was an extraordinary coincidence, meeting you here," he +had said. + +She did not reply. His voice was most strangely grave for an observation +so trite; he might have been speaking some deeply meditated thing, +profound, heavy with meaning, charged with fate. Fatuous! It was +extraordinary that there was not an action of his but aroused her +animosity. This vibrant gravity of tone--an organ used for a jig, just +as his gifts were used for his Laetitia moon-calfings--caused newly a +disturbance within her against him. She would have liked to whistle or +in some equal way to express indifference to his presence. + +They were at the gate and he stooped to the latch and appeared to have +some trouble with it. "Sturgiss has been telling me what a wonderful +person you are." + +Again that immense gravity of tone. She was astonished at the sudden +surge of her animosity that it caused within her. She had desired to +express indifference. She desired now to assail. She made a sneer of her +voice. "I should have thought you had ears for the wonder of no one but +Laetitia." + +"Why do you say that?" + +She felt her lip curl with her malevolence. "To see you raise your eyes +and hear you breathe 'Ah, Laetitia!'" + +He opened the gate and she passed out, tingling. + +It astounded her to find herself a hundred yards gone from the house, +nay, now upon the bus a mile and more away, recalling it, trembling +and with her breath quickened. It was as if she had been engaged in a +contest of wills, very fierce; nay, in a contest physical, a wrestling. +She had not known, she told herself, that it was possible to hate so. +That man! These men! She put her eye upon the bus driver, strapped on +his perch so near to her that she could have touched him, and absurdly +in her repugnance of his sex hated him and shrank farther away from him. + +It was enormously, sickeningly real to her, her repugnance. Even on +detached consideration of her ridiculous shrinking from the bus driver +she could not have laughed at it. People who had an uncontrollable +antipathy to cats did not laugh at the grotesque puerilities to which it +carried them. Nor she at her antipathy. "Of course they're beasts." +Yes, the right word! It was the beastliness of sex that bottomed her +loathing. + +She could not have laughed; but she could and did with a conscious +intention of her will put that intruder on her animation finally out of +her mind. This very joyous uplifting of her spirit, was it not because, +in this world dominated by men, based for its fundamental principle upon +play of sex as commerce is based upon the principle of barter, she +was assured of position, of privilege, and of power that raised her +independent of such conventions and such laws? + +She was her own! All her proud joys, her glad imaginings, her delighted +hopes, arose amain and anew, tuned to this cumulative paean as a nourish +of trumpets at the climax of a proclamation. She was intoxicated on her +happiness. + +They were come to the lighted shops and the crowded pavements. The bus +drew up at the thronged corner adjacent to the divigation of the Harrow +Road and she leaned over and watched the scene, smilingly (for sheer +happiness) looking down upon it, as smilingly (for her triumphant +altitude) she felt that she looked down upon the world. She would not +have changed place with any life living or that could be lived; she was +so much abandoned to her happiness that she made the intention she would +sit up in her significant apartment all that night, not to lose a moment +of it. She grudged that even sleep upon her happiness should intrude. + +There came one in the traffic beneath her that caught her attention: a +woman whom people stood aside to let pass and turned to look upon with +grins; two or three urchins danced about the woman, pointing at her and +calling at her. Her dress was disordered, muddy all up one side as if +she had fallen; her face flushed; her hat awry; her hair escaped and +wisped about her eyes and on her shoulders. She was drunk. An obscene +and horrible spectacle, the mock of her beholders. A horrible woman. + +It was Keggo. + +Rosalie caught her breath. She made to rise but did not rise. Keggo +stopped and lifted all around a vacant gaze. Her eyes met Rosalie's +straight above her. She lurched a step and stopped and swayed and looked +again, battling perhaps with hints within her fumy brain of recognition. +Rosalie made again to rise to go to her and again did not rise. The bus +moved forward. That wretched woman, making as if to pursue her aroused +be-fuddlement, turned about to follow and came a few steps, lurching +like a ship that foundered. The light blazed down upon her upturned +face. She lurched into some shadow and, as wreckage swallowed up in the +trough of the sea, her face was gone. + +Lurching... as a ship... that foundered. There was in Rosalie's mind +some dim memory struggling. Lurching... as a ship... in the darkness... +in the night. And her face... seen and gone... as a ship... labouring... +as a ship... + +Ah! + +Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing; Only a +signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness. + +It came to Rosalie complete and word for word; and with perfect +clearness, as though she saw and sensed them, all its attendant +circumstances: the attic room at the Sultana's, the strange smell +mingled with the smell of the oil lamp, Keggo in the wicker chair, she +beside her, her head against Keggo's knee; and Keggo's voice reciting +the lines and her young, protesting, loving cry, "O Keggo!" + +She saw it, sensed it, heard it--and stonily regarded it. A thing to +weep at, she knew it; but did not weep. A thing to stab her, it ought +to; but did not stab. What good could she do? Suppose she had got up +and gone down; suppose she now got up and went down and went back? What +good? All sentimentality that. Be sensible! If a thousand pounds would +do Keggo any good, and if she had a thousand pounds, freely and gladly +she would give the last penny of it. But to get down, to have got down, +what could she have done? Why should she worry about her? Keggo had had +her chance. Everybody had their chance. She now had hers. Why should +she... + +She never saw Keggo again. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +She had not good health in the week immediately following that great +day. She did not feel well. She did not look very well. Mr. Simcox, +profoundly sympathetic to every mood of her who was at once his protege +and his support, told her he thought she had been overdoing it. She +seized upon that excuse and tried to persuade herself that perhaps she +had; or, which amounted to the same thing, that she was suffering +from the revulsion of those huge excitements. But she did not persuade +herself. Her malaise, whatever it was, was not of that kind. Its +manifestations were not in lassitude or sense of disability. They +were in a curious dis-ease whose occasion was not to be defined; in a +consuming restlessness beneath whose goad even the significant apartment +had not power to charm and hold her; in a certain feverishness whose +exsiccative heat, leaving her palms and temples cool (she sometimes felt +them and had surprise) caused inwardly a dry burning that made her long +for quiet places. + +She could not settle to anything. Her limbs, and they had their way, +desired not to rest; her mind, and it deposed her captaincy, would cast +no anchor. + +Mr. Simcox, as the week drew on, suggested a weekend at home. It had +occurred to her, very attractively, but she had negatived it. Aunt Belle +(before the idea had come to her) had written an invitation to one of +the Saturday dinners in which she had "most particularly, my dear child" +desired her presence. Something most delightful was going to happen and +she must be there. She had accepted and she later told herself she +did not like to refuse. She knew, instantly as she read, what was the +identity of this delightful thing that was to happen and she decided, +with a sharp turn within her of some emotion, that certainly she would +be there. To whet her scorn! She was thereafter much aggravated that her +drifting mind, against her wish, swayed constantly towards it sometimes +with that same sharp turn of that same emotion (nameless to her and +without meaning) always with aggravation of her restlessness, of +her fever, of her dis-ease. When came Mr. Simcox's suggestion of the +week-end at home she decided, as swiftly as she had first accepted, to +revoke her acceptance. She would not be there! She would not--waste her +scorn! + +Impatient for movement, she that evening went to the splendid house +in Pilchester Square to tell her withdrawal. This most exasperating +dis-ease of hers! Now that she was come to change her mind she did not +want to change her mind. It was like going to the dentist with an +aching tooth. On his doorstep the tooth does not ache. Her governance of +herself was by her malaise so shaken that positively, as she came +into Aunt Belle's presence, she did not know whether she was going to +withdraw or to confirm her acceptance of the invitation. + +Most comfortingly, Aunt Belle saved her the decision. "My dear child! +How unexpected! How opportune! I was just writing to you. Our little +dinner is put off! Sit here while I tell you. Now would you like +anything, dear child? A piece of cake? Some nice fruit? To please +me. Really, no? Well, now; our dinner that I so especially wanted you +for--did you guess?" + +She began to tell. + +She told what Rosalie had perfectly well known. The delightful thing +expected to happen was Harry Occleve's proposal of marriage to darling +Laetitia. There had been certain signs and portents. They had come at +last. Their meaning was perfectly clear. There was not the least doubt +that at the next meeting Harry would ask Laetitia's hand. Not the shadow +of a doubt! Aunt Belle knew all the signs! Every woman of Aunt Belle's +experience knew them, dear child. So Harry had been asked for this +dinner; a meaningly written letter, dear child, to encourage him, the +dear, poor fellow! And had accepted, in terms so meaning too, the dear, +devoted fellow. Then-- + +"But, Aunt Belle--" + +"Listen, dear child. Then he suddenly wrote saying he found he had made +a mistake--" + +"Made a mistake!" The words went out from Rosalie in a small cry. + +"Dear child, it is nothing. How sweet to be so concerned! It is nothing, +it is the best of signs. Made a mistake that he was disengaged for +Saturday. The dear, devoted fellow was so absurdly vague about it. +Unavoidable circumstances prevented him; that was all; his writing and +all the appearance of his letter so delightfully distracted! How amused +we were, your Uncle Pyke and I! How amused, and how we felt for the +dear, devoted fellow! Screwing up his courage! How we remembered our own +courtship! You should hear your Uncle Pyke tell how he had to screw up +his courage to propose to me and how many times it failed him and he +fled. Dear, child, you've no idea how ridiculous these poor men are in +their love! How timorous! How they suffer! The dear, poor fellows. Your +Uncle Pyke wrote him at once a most kind and meaning letter--accepting +his unforeseen circumstances (he had to, of course) and positively +fixing him for Monday instead. 'Laetitia is expecting you,' your Uncle +Pyke wrote. The dear fellow! How happy it will make him! So it is +Monday, dear child. Monday, instead. We do so want you to be there. I +do so want you, and so does my darling, to be the first to congratulate +her. And you shall be a bridesmaid! Won't that be nice? Kiss me, dear +child. I shall never forget your sweet concern before I told you his +excuse meant nothing. Dear child, you look startled yet." + +There was only a faint voice that came to Rosalie's lips. "Really +nothing, Aunt Belle?" + +"Dear child, nothing at all." + +She went down to the Rectory on Saturday and found herself more glad +to be there and to be with her mother than she had ever been. When she +greeted her mother, "Kiss me again, dear, small mother," she cried +and put her cheek against her mother's and held it there some moments, +rather fiercely and with her eyes closed, as though there were in +that contact some febrifuge that abated her inward fever, some mooring +whereto, adrift, her mind made fast. + +What beset her? What was the matter with her? What worked within her? +Feverishly she inquired of herself, seeking to analyse her case; but she +could by no means inform herself; her case was not within what diagnosis +she could summon. What? Near as she could get she had the feeling, nay, +the wild longing, to get out: out of what? She did not know. To get +away: away from what? She could not say. + +She found in herself a great and an unusual tenderness towards the home +life. Only her mother and her father were now at home. Harold was at +a branch of his bank in Shanghai. Robert was in Canada. Flora was +in India, married, with two small children. Hilda was in Devonshire, +married to a doctor. These things had happened, these flights been +winged, and she had taken but the smallest interest in them. She had had +her own af-fairs. She had had herself to think of. She had lost touch +with her brothers and sisters. She scarcely ever thought about them. Now +she wanted very much to hear about them. What news of them was there? +How were they getting on? She did want--she could fix that much of her +state, or it presented a relief for her state--she did want to feel that +she belonged to them and they to her. She noticed with a large whelming +of pity how very small her mother seemed to have grown She was always +small, but now--much smaller, fallen in, very fragile. She noticed with +a quick pang how all her father's violent blackness of hair, and violent +red of colouring, and violent glint of eye and violent energy of gesture +were faded, greyed, dimmed, devitalized to a hue and to an air that was +all one and lustreless, as if he had gone in a pond covered, not with +duckweed but with lichen, and had come out, not dripping, but limp and +shrouded head to foot in scaly grey. Was it possible that all this had +been so when she was last here? She had not noticed it. She noticed that +both her dear mother and her father walked on the flat soles of their +feet, and touched articles of furniture as they trod, heavily, across +the room. A most frightful tenderness towards them possessed her. She +wanted like anything to show them devotion and, most frightfully, to +receive from them signs of devotion to her--to be able to feel she was +theirs, and they hers. She wanted it terribly. + +But what else did she want? What? They gave her, all the home talk, but +soon it flagged and whatever in her desired satisfaction still gnawed +within her and was unsatisfied; she ministered to them and they were +pleased but they seemed very quickly tired; they had their accustomed +hours and habits, and whatever it was in her that found relief in +solicitude still tossed within her and was not relieved. What beset her? +What? + +Monday came. She was at this dinner, this festival for the consummation +and celebration of the betrothal of beautiful Laetitia and Laetitia's +darling Harry. That sick dis-ease of hers had wonderfully vanished when +she came into the house, when she was hugged fit to crack her to Aunt +Belle's bosom with "Dear child! Dear child! He's just arrived! He's with +your uncle downstairs. Look at Laetitia! Lovely! Isn't she lovely? +Kiss me again, again, dear child!" When she was floated to by Laetitia, +exquisitely arrayed, pink and white, doll-faced, doll-headed, squeaking +with coquettish glee, "Rosalie! Darling! Isn't this awful? Imagine it +for me, Rosalie! It oughtn't to have been planned like this, ought it? +Do tell darling mamma it ought not to have been! I'm trembling. Wouldn't +you be?" + +Yes, gone that sick dis-ease. How at this spectacle suffer dis-ease, +or any other disturbance of the emotions save only disgust, contempt at +such a horrid preparation for such a horrid rite. Excited responsiveness +to their most friendly excitation was not needed in her for it was not +expected. "The shy, quiet thing you always are, dear child," Aunt Belle +often used to say to her and said now. (And within the week was to beat +her breast in that same drawing-room and cry with an exceeding bitter +cry, "Shy! We thought her shy! Sly! Sly! Sly to the tips of her fingers, +the wicked girl!") + +So she need respond with no more than her normal quiet smile, her normal +tone, in their presence, of poor-relation deference and awe. So behind +that mask could curl her lip and shudder in the refinements of her views +at this most horrid preparation for this most horrid rite. And did. That +dis-ease strangely fled, there came to her the swift belief that +here, and she had not known it!--was that dis-ease's cause. It was the +anticipation of this exhibition of all the things she hated most, of the +most glaring presentiment of outrage of all her strongest principles. +This Laetitia, embodiment of useless woman-hood, launching herself on +that disgusting dependence on a man that soon would strand her among the +derelicts; and that Laetitia's Harry, that might have been a man among +men, coming to the apotheosis of his languishing to--oh, wreathed, +fatted calf with gilded horns! + +Yes, it was this had vexed her so; and suddenly informed of the seat of +her injury she turned upon it disgust and scorn such as never before had +she felt (and she, had felt it always) for the whole order of things for +which it stood. She felt her very blood run acid, causing her to twist, +in her acid contempt for the subservience of women, and most of all for +that Laetitia's subservience, floated on that ghastly coquetry like a +shifting cargo that in the first gale will capsize the ship; she felt +her very temples throb, and almost thought they must be heard, in her +fierce detestation of all the masculinity of men and most of all--yes, +with a flash of eye she could not stay and hoped that he could see--that +fatuous Harry's masculinity. + +He came into the room--looked pale--poor calf!--and went, with a nervous +halt in his walk--sick fool!--to his Laetitia; and looked across at +Rosalie and made a half-step to her; and she thought with all her force, +to send it to him, her last words to him: that most malevolent, "to see +you raise your eyes and hear you breathe, 'Ah, Laetitia'"; and surely +sent it, for on that half-step towards her he stopped, hesitated, and +turned and engaged Laetitia again. + +She had told herself, leaving the Sturgiss's house that night a week +ago, that she had not believed it possible to hate a man so. Now! Why +that was not hate; that, compared with the inimity that now consumed +her, was a mere chill indifference. And it had made her tremble! She was +rigid now. Stiff with hate! He personified for her all in life against +which she was in rebellion, all in life that her soul abhorred; and +while, in the moments before dinner, grunting Uncle Pyke and rallying +Aunt Belle and coquetting Laetitia crowded about him, leaving her alone +and far apart, she, for the reason that it gave to her hate, and for the +example that stood before her eyes, reviewed again her theories of life +and again pledged herself in their support.... + +"Dinner is served." That group went laughing to the door, she followed. +"No, no, my boy. Don't stand on ceremony. Pass along as we come. Why, +hang it, man, we regard you as one of the family! Ha! ha! haw!" Down +the stairs in a body, she following. There is, from their conversation, +something the wreathed calf is to get from his coat to bring to show +them, a letter or a token or something. The dining-room is to the front +on the ground floor. The coats hang in the hall, a narrow passage there, +that runs back to Uncle Pyke's study. They are down. "Shall I get it +now?" "Yes, bring it along; bring it along, my boy." "And Rosalie" (Aunt +Belle), "my fan, dear child. Dear child, I left it on the table in Uncle +Pyke's den. You will? Dear child!" + +They pass in. The gilded calf turns from them for what it is he is to +fetch from his coat; she slips by him to the study and takes up the fan +and comes with it again. + +It is dim in the passage. A condition on which generous Uncle Pyke years +before installed this wonderful electric light that you flick on and +flick off as you require it was that it should always be flicked off +when you did not require it. Now as Rosalie came from the study the +passage was lit only by the shaft of light that gleamed from the +dining-room door; its only sound Aunt Belle's noisy chatter from the +waiting table. + +He was fumbling at the coats, standing there sharply outlined against +the stream of light, his face cut on it in a perfect silhouette. She +had to pass him. That hateful he. She was seized with a fit of that same +trembling that had shaken her after the passage between them at the gate +on Shoot Up Hill. It shook her now, dreadfully. Her knees trembled. She +felt faint. Awful to hate so! She was quite close, almost touching him. +It was necessary he should move, forward or back, to give her room. But +he did not move. His hands, outstretched before him on the coats, and +sharp against the light, appeared to her to be shaking; but that was the +hallucination of this frightful trembling that possessed her. She tried +to say, "If you please--," but, dreadfully, had no voice; but made some +sound; and he, most slowly, drew back. It was before him that she had to +pass. + +She advanced; and felt, as if she saw it, the intensity of the gaze of +his eyes upon her; and saw, as if the place were light and her look not +averted, his "marching" face and those lines radiating to his temples +(horizon tracks) where the faint touch of greyness was; and suddenly had +upon her senses, with an extraordinary pungency, causing them to swim, +that odd, nice smell there was about him of mingled peat and soap and +fresh tobacco, of tweed and heather and the sea. + +She caught her breath... + +The thing's too poignant for the words a man has. + +She was caught in his arms, terribly enfolding her. He was crying in +her ears, passionately, triumphantly, "Rosalie! Rosalie!" She was in his +arms. Those long, strong arms of his were round her; and she was caught +against his heart, her face upturned to his, his face against her own; +and she was swooning, falling through incredible spaces, drowning in +incredible seas, sinking through incredible blackness; and in her ears +his voice, coming to her in her extremity like the beat of a wing in the +night, like the first pulsing roll of music enormously remote, "Rosalie! +Rosalie!" + +The thing's too poignant for the words one has. This girl's extremity +was very great, not to be set in words. Words cannot bring to earth that +which, ethereal, defies our comprehension as life and death defy it and, +like life and death, to our comprehension only sublimely IS. Words only +can say her spirit, bursting from bondage, streamed up to cleave to his; +how tell the anguish, how the ecstasy? Words only can say her spirit, +like a live part of her drawn out of her, seemed to be rushing upwards +from her body to her lips; words cannot tell the anguish that was bliss, +the rapture that was pain. Only can say that she was in his arms, her +heart to his, his lips against her own, and cannot tell-- + +But also it is to be accounted to her for her extremity that herein all +her life's habit was delivered over by her to betrayal. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +He was saying, "We must go in. Can you go in?" She breathed, "I can." + +That dinner! That after-dinner in the drawing-room upstairs! It is a +nightmare to be imagined, not to be described. Imagine walking from the +darkness and the frightful secret of the passage into the blazing +dazzle and the glittering eyes of the resplendent dinner party! They, in +Harry's absence, have been exchanging the last private nods and flashes. +"Soon! Soon!" they have been nodding to one another. Uncle Pyke, licking +his chops anticipatorily of his bath in his soup, has been licking them +also in relish of working off his daughter in this excellent match; +Aunt Belle, kind, kind Aunt Belle, with a last satisfied eye about the +appointments of the table, has patted her Laetitia's hand and conveyed +to her, "Soon, soon, darling; soon, soon!" Beautiful Laetitia has given +a gentle, glad squeeze to the patting hand and smiled a lovely, happy, +certain smile. "Soon! Soon!" has gone the jolly signal--and it is not +going to be soon, nor late; it is never, never going to happen; and +worse than never happen! + +Worse than never happen! That's it. That is the awful knowledge of awful +guilt with which Rosalie sits there and freezes in guilty agony at every +pause in the conversation and could scream to notice how the pauses +grow longer and longer, more frequent and more frequent yet. There's +a frightful constraint, a chilly, creepy dreadfulness steals about +the party. They go upstairs--Aunt Belle and Rosalie and beautiful +Laetitia--and the constraint goes with them. They sit and stare and +hardly a word said. Something's up! What's up? What's the matter with +everything? Why is everything hanging like this! What's up? And the men +come in--Uncle Pyke swollen with food, swollen with indigestion, swollen +with baffled perplexity and ferocious irritation; and Harry--she dare +not look at Harry--and the thing is worse, the awfulness more awful. +Glances go shooting round the awful silences--Uncle Pyke's atrabilious +eye in the burning fiery furnace of his swollen face is a stupendous +note of interrogation directed upon Aunt Belle; Aunt Belle's eyebrows +arch to scalp and appear likely to disappear into her scalp and remain +there in the effort to express, "I don't know! I can't imagine!"; +Laetitia--Laetitia's eyes upon her mother are as a spaniel's upon one +devouring meat at table. + +Frightfulness more frightful, awfulness more awful; in Rosalie almost +now beyond control the desire to scream, or to burst into tears or +wildly into laughter. Then she knows herself upon her feet and hears +her voice: "Aunt Belle. I must go, I think. I think I am very tired +to-night." + +They suffer her to go. + +That's all a nightmare; but, when the door is closed upon them, like a +nightmare gone. She was alone upon the staircase and then down in the +hall--by those coats!--and, as though no ghastly interval had been, the +amazing and beloved moment was returned to her. Out of a nightmare into +a dream! She stood in her dream a moment--two moments--three--by +the hall door. Who till that evening never had thought of love, +astonishingly was invested with all love's darling cunning. She felt +somehow he would see her again before she left; and love's dear cunning +told her right. He came swiftly down the stairs. She never knew on what +pretext he had left the room. He came to her. Love loves these snatched +moments and always makes them snatched to breathlessness. She opened +the door and must be gone. She said to him, speaking first, "Oh, we were +vile in there! How vile we were!" + +It was, the intimacy and the abruptness of it, the perfect comprehension +that their thoughts were shared, as if they had known and loved for +years. + +He caught her hand. "My conspirator! My secret-sharer!" + +She gave him her heart in her eyes. + +He said, "To-morrow, I will come to you." + +She disengaged her hand. + +He gave a swift look all about and caught her in his arms. "You must +tell me, my Rosalie. Tell me." + +She breathed, "You knew, before I knew, that I loved you." + +When she was home and got to her room she undressed, suffering her +clothes to lie as they slipped from her. She got into bed, moving there +and then lying there as one in trance. + +Cataclysm! All she had been, all she had determined--all, all gone; +all nothing, surrendered all. At a touch, in a moment, without a cry, +without a shot, without a stroke, all her life's habit swept away. All +she had been, all she'd designed, all she had built within herself +and walled about herself, all she had scorned, all that with a violent +antipathy she had shuddered from or with curled lip spurned away,--all, +all betrayed, breached, mined, calamitously riven, tumultously sundered, +burst away. + +She turned her face to the pillow and began to cry--most frightfully. + +It was very terrible for Rosalie. + + + + +PART THREE--HOUSE OF CHILDREN + +CHAPTER I + + +There's none so sick as, brought to bed, that robust he that ever +has scorned sickness; nor any sinner like a saint suddenly gone from +saintliness to sin; and there can be no love like love suddenly leapt +from repression into being. + +Rosalie, that had abhorred the very name of love, now finding love was +quite consumed by love. She loved him so! Even to herself she never +could express how tremendous a thing to her their love was. She used +deliberately to call it to her mind (as the new, rapt possessor of a +jewel going specially to the case to peep and gloat again) and when she +called it up like that, or when, in the midst of occupation, her +mind secretly opened a door and she turned and saw it there, a surge, +physically felt, passed through her, and she would nearly gasp, her +breath taken by this new, this rapturous element, as the bather's at his +first plunge in the cold, the splendid sea. + +She loved him so! She looked at him with eyes, not of an inexperienced +girl blinded by love, but of one cynically familiar with the traits of +common men, intolerantly prejudiced, sharply susceptible to every note +or motion of displeasing quality; and her eyes told her heart, and what +is much more told her mind, that nothing but sheer perfection was here. +Harry was brilliantly talented, Harry was in face and form one that +took the eye among a hundred men. But she had known all that and freely +granted him all that before. What she found as she came to know him, and +when they were married what she continued to find, was simply, that he +was perfect. He was perfect in every way and there was no way in +which, inclining neither to the too much nor the too little, he was not +perfect. + +The labour of a catalogue of her Harry's virtues is thus discounted. +Name a virtue in a man and it was Harry's. Declare too much perfection +is as ill to live with as too much fault, and it is precisely just +before too much is reached that Harry's dowry stopped. Suggest she was +blind to defects, and it is to be answered that there was no man who +knew him that ever had a thought against him (except Uncle Pyke, Colonel +Pyke Pounce, R.E., who, justifiably, was warned by his physician never +to think upon the monster lest apoplexy should supervene) nor any fellow +man in his profession (and that is the supreme test) that ever grudged +him his success. Disgruntled barristers, morosely brooding upon the fall +of plums into other mouths than theirs, always said, when it was Harry's +mouth: "Ah, Occleve; yes, but he's different. No one grudges Harry +Occleve what he gets." + +Different! In Rosalie's fond, fondest love for him she often used to hug +her love by making that catalogue of all his parts that has been shown +not to be necessary. And it was the little, tiny things wherein he +differed from common men that especially she cherished. By the deepest +part of her nature terribly susceptible to the grosser manifestations +of the male habit, it was extraordinarily wonderful and delicious to her +that Harry of these had none. In an age much given to easy freedom of +language it will not be appreciated, it perhaps will cause the pair +of them to be sneered at, but it demands mention as illuminating +a characteristic of hers (and of his), that she had, for instance, +especial delight in the fact that Harry never even swore. The impossible +test in the matter of self-command is when a man hits his thumb with +a hammer. What does a bishop say when he does that? But she saw Harry +catch his thumb a proper crack hanging a picture in the house they +took, and, "Mice and Mumps!" cried Harry, and dropped the hammer and +the picture, and jumped off the stepladder, and did a hop, and wrung his +hand, and laughed at her and wrung his hand and laughed again. "Mice and +Mumps!" + +"Mice and Mumps!" It always seemed to her to characterise and to +epitomise him, that grotesque expression. It always made her laugh; and +the more serious the accident or the dilemma that brought it to Harry's +lips, the more, by pathos, one was forced to laugh and the seriousness +thereby dissipated into an affair not serious at all. Yes, that was the +point of it and the reason it epitomised him. There was none of life's +dilemmas--little dilemmas that irritate ordinary people or in which +ordinary people display themselves pusillanimous; or tragic dilemmas +that find ordinary people wanting and leave them in vacillation and +despair--there was none of any sort that Harry, receiving with his +comic, "Mice and Mumps! Mice and Mumps, old girl!" did not receive with +the assurance to her that, though this was a nuisance, he had metal and +to spare to settle such; that, though this was a catastrophe, a facer, +he'd too much courage, too much high, brave spirit for it to discommode +him; there was no fight in such, he was captain of such, trust him! + +"One who never turned his back but marched breast forward." + +That was Harry! + +"Mice and Mumps!" On the evening of the day following that astounding +betrothal of theirs, affianced as it were at a blow--a day spent +together in the park complete, without a break for food or thought of +occupation--on the evening of that day he must go, he de-clared, to the +horrific castle in Pilchester Square and break the awful news, proclaim +his villainy. + +She was terrified. "They'll kill you, Harry. Write." + +"No, no. I've been a howling cad. It's true, a howling cad, not of +guile, but of these astounding things that have happened to us outside +ourselves, but nevertheless a howling cad as such conduct is judged, +and will be judged. So I must go through it. I must. That's certain. I +couldn't hide behind a letter. They are entitled to tell me to my face +what they think of me. They must have their right. Oh, yes, I've got to +give them that. To-night. Now." + +A howling cad, but of forces outside themselves ("Too quick for me," he +had explained), not of guile. + +He had explained, in those enchanted hours in the park, that it was +really by resolve to do the right thing, and not to do the caddish +thing, that he had presented himself the howling cad that they would +hold him. That night at the Sturgiss's at Cricklewood had charged him +("Oh, Rosalie, like bursting awake to breathe from suffocation in a +dream.") what for many days, only looking at her, never speaking to +her, suffering her not veiled contempt, he had felt as one feels a +premonition that is insistent but that cannot be defined--that night +had charged him that he loved her. He was no way definitely committed +to poor Laetitia. Was he more wrong if, now knowing his heart was +otherwhere, he maintained and carried to its consummation the intimacy +between Laetitia and himself, or if he stopped while yet he had not gone +too far? He had decided to break while yet it might, be broken. There +was an invitation from Mrs. Pyke Pounce he had accepted. He wrote, +endeavouring to give a meaning to his words, excusing himself from it. + +She murmured, "I remember." ("Nothing in it, dear child; nothing in +it!") + +There came back a letter from Colonel Pyke Pounce in which Colonel Pyke +Pounce also had endeavoured to give a meaning to his words, and had +succeeded. Now Harry knew his problem of moral conduct in a fiercer +form; now, resolving to do what he told himself was the right thing and +not the caddish thing, he took the step that made him be the howling cad +that they would think him. ("But, Rosalie, gave me you!") + +He had resolved that he must accept the invitation, present himself at +the house--and let the hour decide. As the situation revealed itself +so he would accept it. If it was made clear to him, as the Pyke Pounce +letter much gave him to believe, that proposal for Laetitia's hand was +expected of him, he would "do the right thing" and stand by what his +behaviour apparently had led them to expect; if the way still seemed +open, the door not shut behind him, he would very frankly explain to +Laetitia's grisly father that he thought it best his visits to the house +from now should cease. The hour should decide! But there was in the +hour, when it came, one terrible, one lovely element that he never had +expected to be there. In all his visits to the house Rosalie never had +been met on any other day than Saturday. This dinner was on the Monday, +and arriving to face and carry through his ordeal, he was startled, he +was utterly shaken to see her there. ("To see my darling there.") + +O forces outside themselves! "When you had to pass me in the passage +nothing mattered then--except I could not let you pass." + +So it was that now, the right thing not having been done on that night, +the right thing in this new position must be done to-day. They were +entitled to tell him to his face what they thought of him and they must +have their right. That was his view and he would not abate it. + +"They'll kill you, Harry." + +They had come by this to the corner of Pilchester Square and there he +bade her wait. She said again, part laughing, most in fear, "They'll +kill you." + +"I've got to give them the chance to do their best." + +And off he went, strongly, erect. One who never... but marched breast +forward. + +Waiting for him, she really was terrified for him. Ferocious Uncle +Pyke! Terrific Aunt Belle! Swollen and infuriated Uncle Pyke! Bitter and +outraged Aunt Belle! + +In twenty minutes came the crash of a slammed front door that clearly +and terribly was Uncle Pyke Pounce slamming it as if he would hurl it +through its portals and crash it on to Harry down the steps. + +Harry reappeared, uncommonly grave. + +She put out a hand to him, dreadfully anxious. + +"Mice and Mumps!" said Harry. "Mice and Mumps!" + +You couldn't help laughing! But also, squeezing the strong arm beneath +which he tucked her hand, you felt, with such a thrill, from that +grotesque expression, and from his face as he said it, that this, like +every forward thing, had in it nothing that could discommode that high, +brave spirit: no fight in such; he was captain of such, trust him! + +Thus also her delight in another form, and yet in the same form, in that +grotesque expression, when it was ejaculated as his sole expletive when +he caught his thumb that frightful crack while hanging a picture in what +was to be his study in their newly taken house. + +Any other man in the world, even a bishop, would have sworn; would have +sworn no doubt harmlessly and with an honest heartiness to which the +most pious prude could not have taken exception. Agreed! But the point +was--that Harry didn't! + +She loved him so! She insisted she must bind up the thumb with her +pocket handkerchief, and did, Harry protesting; and for years, still +loving him with the old, first love, she often would be reminded by the +picture of the incident and of her joy in it. + +Yes, the only expletive she ever heard him use; and, lo, in that very +room, years on, he seated beneath that very picture, she was to come to +him with news (and hers the guilt of it) that for the first time was to +strike him between the joints of his harness, visibly ageing him as she +spoke, and for the first time cause him to groan his pain. She was +to glance at the picture as she spoke and very terribly its merry +association to be recalled to her. She was to recall him young, gay, +tremendously splendid, wringing his damaged hand, laughing, "Mice and +Mumps!" She was to see him, grey ascendant upon the raven of his hair, +shrinking down in his seat, wilting as one slowly collapsing after a +stunning blow, and at her news (and hers the guilt of it) to hear +his voice go, not exclamatorily, but in a thick mutter, as one dazed, +bewildered, in a fog, "My God, my God, my God, my God!" + +How could one ever have foreseen that? + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +She loved him so! On that first day together in the park she told +him everything about herself, about all her ideas and theories and +principles, particularly where these touched his sex, even about that +terrible fit of crying of hers in bed an hour after she had left him. +And Harry understood everything and agreed with her in everything. O +rapturous affinity! + +They met early when business London was rushing to business. They stayed +late, with no thought of food or of their occupations, till business +London was returning, and night, in lamps below and stars above, was +setting out its sentinels. + +She told him everything; and even if she had wished not to open all her +heart, there would have been the immense selection of everything--every +single thing about herself--from which to choose to tell him. For there +never had been such a betrothal as theirs; done at a blow with no single +intimate thing ever before passed between them! Her very first words to +him as they met, her greeting of him as they came together, showed how +preposterous and never-before-imagined was their affiancement. "You +know, it's incredible," she greeted him. "It's incredible, it's +grotesque, it's flatly impossible--I've never before seen you except in +your dress clothes or at afternoon tea!" + +Harry took both her hands in his. "But I think I've wanted you," said +Harry, "ever since I was in long clothes. I know I've wanted you ever +since first I saw you." + +One knows another, in her place, would have bantered this off in that +modern attitude towards love which is a horror, boisterously expressed, +of admitting love as an emotion. Rosalie, that had scorned the very name +of love, and that, because betrayed by love, had turned her face to her +pillow and cried most frightfully, received it with a sound that was +between a sigh and a catching of her breath. She loved him so! + +And then they talked; and the thing between them, that had come so +wonderfully, was so wonderful that they were as it were transfigured by +it, as awe and spirituality and mysticism would fill the dwellers in a +house visited by a miracle of God. So wonderful, that conversation, they +would have felt, was not possibly a word for all that occupied them in +those rapturous hours: not conversation, no,--a sublime engagement of +their spirits wherein (possessing the keys of all the wonders), seas, +continents and worlds of thoughts were traversed by them, in every clime +most exquisite affinity discovered. + +As at a blow they had become affianced, so, with no stage between, +but in immediate sequence perfectly natural to them both, the natural +repercussion of the blow, they talked immediately of betrothal's +consummation, of marriage, of their marriage. + +About marriage Rosalie had immensely much to tell Harry. It was what she +had principally to say, and this is how and why and what she told him. + +When from her first terrible dismay--that frightful crying, her face +turned to the pillow--she had recovered; when to the lovely ardour of +her love--stealing about her, soothing her, in the night; bursting upon +her, ravishing her, in the morning--she had passed on; she remembered +her second line of her defences and she fell back upon it. "If ever I +fell in love," she had often said, alike to Keggo and to Miss Salmon, +"if such an impossible thing ever were to happen to me, I'd marry as +marriage should be. I'd enter a partnership. I would live my life; he +would live his life; together, when we wanted to, when we were off duty, +so to speak, we would live our life. A partnership, a mutually free and +independent partnership." + +The second line of her defences! Oh, strong and reassuring thought! Of +course, of course the first line, breached and swept away, had never +really mattered. Foolish to have wept for it! It was built against +love and she knew now, by her darling and her terrible experience, that +against love----! Nay, in that whelming admission's very tide, sweeping +upon her from envisagement of Harry and bearing her deliciously upon its +flood, there had come a thought as strong with wine as that was sweet +with honey. Built against love! Why, in seeking to build against love, +to shut away love from her life, was she not perpetrating against +herself the very act--denial of anything a free life might have--that it +was her life's first principle to oppose? A man's place, a man's part, +everything that a man by conventional dowry is given, hers should be as +freely as a man's it is! That was her aim; that at once the basis of her +standpoint and the target of her shaft; and lo, at the very outset of +her independence, she had sought to deny herself that which (as now +she knew) was life's most lovely gift. She was steadfast, and she was +caparisoned, to obtain and to possess the things that, of her sex, +commonly a woman might not have, and she was shutting herself from that +which, if it offers, not all the man-owned world can deny the woman +lowliest in office, heaviest in chains, deepest in servitude! + +O senselessness! She could see, as looking upon an individuality not her +own, that foolish girl that for such had turned her face to her pillow +and cried out her heart; and at that very moment, and no other, of +smiling pity for that mistaken grief, there came to Rosalie a sudden +sense of womanhood attained; of much increase of years and wisdom; of +growth of stature; of transportation, as from one world to another, from +the character and the presence that had been hers to a personality and +a body that looked down upon that other as, tenderly, a mother upon the +innocence of her small child. + +That poor, brave, foolish Rosalie that was! Did she protest, that +foolish girl, that she was right in what had been her attitude to love? +Did she with would-be bitterness recall those views laid down upon the +women in the boarding house--that they were derelicts precisely through +this love business, abandoned of men, relict of men, footsore and fallen +in pursuit of men? + +Ah, small, misguided creature! The principles were right but all askew +the application. Love! Consider other attributes of life. Consider +learning; consider food. Learning and food--were they not bounties of +life's treasure, to be absorbed and used for sustenance in order, by +their nourishment, to give to live this life more fully? Why, so with +love! Derelicts, those women, because receiving love (that loveliest +gift of all!) not as a means but as an end--the end of all: that +attained, everything attained; that won, all finished. That was it! That +the misapplication! Learning, or food, or love--the same with all! How +dead the life that only lived in scholarship; how gross the life that +only lived to eat; how derelict that she that only lived to love, to +marry--then ceased to live! + +And equally, O small, misguided girl, how starved the life that has no +books; how weak the frame that has no food; ah, dear (thus smiled she to +herself), how dead the life that knows not love! + +The second line of her defences! Nay, as now through this mature and +happy cogitation she saw it, the first and last and only line! In her +aloneness, in that girl's single life, there had been nothing against +which to defend. She had fought phantoms, that girl; resisted shadows. +Now was the necessity, now the test; and now, because with Harry, +because she loved him so, because he was every way and in all things +perfect, now should be the triumphant exposition. + +And she told Harry: marriage that should be a partnership--not an +absorption by the greater of the less; not one part active and the other +passive; one giving, the other receiving; one maintaining, the other +maintained; none of these, but instead a perfect partnering, a perfect +equality that should be equality of place, equality of privilege, +equality of duty, equality of freedom. "Harry, each with work and with +a career. Harry, each living an own life as every man, away from home, +shutting his front door upon that home and off to work, leads an own and +separate life. Harry--" + +Oh, wonderful beneath this imperturbable sky, amongst these common, +passive things--these paths, those trees, that grass, this bench--within +this seclusion of that murmurous investment of this city, the ceaseless +roar of London, standing like patient walls, eternal and indifferent, +about her quietudes. Oh, wonderful in these accustomed and insensible +surroundings thus to be calling "Harry," as he were brother, him that a +day and night away virtually was unmet; to be exposing, as to a gracious +patron, all her mind's treasury of thought; to be revealing, as in +confessional, her inmost places of her heart; to be receiving, as by +transfusion, the glow of affirmation on her way and in her trust. Oh, +wonderful! + +Wonderful, because remember for her that she was still beneath the shock +of her dismay at her betrayal of herself; still breathless at that rout +from her prepared positions; not yet assured her banners were unsullied +in their withdrawal to her second line; not yet convinced it was no +rout but a withdrawal, wise and strategical, ranks unbroken, to the true +point of her defence. + +Do try to imagine her, tremulous in this her vital enterprise, tremulous +in this wonder that her armies found. It is very desirable to remember +what can be remembered for that girl. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Harry assured her! Harry convinced her! Harry was here upon the +battlements, come with her in her retirement, joined with her as her +ally. All her ideas were his ideas. He, too, had these new views of +marriage. He said they always had been his. He hated, as she hated, that +old dependence notion: all the privileges the man's, the woman's all the +duties. That was detestable to him, said Harry. Marriage in his view-- + +"I'll tell you this," was one thing Harry said. "I'll show it to you +this way, Rosalie. I don't exactly know what a reciprocating machine +is, but I know what it sounds like, and what it sounds like is what +a marriage ought to be,--a perfect fitting together, a perfect +harmonising, a perfect joining of two perfect halves that everywhere +reciprocate." + +The word delighted her. A reciprocating machine! Yes, yes! Each an own +part; each with own and separate interests; and their parts, and +the production arising out of their interests--their individual +selves--approached together, by free will, to join towards a mutual +benefit, a shared endeavour, a common advancement, a single end. + +She was desperately in earnest and so was he. There was a mill near his +people's home in Sussex, a water mill, and his illustration by it of the +design they had showed her how earnestly her own ideas were his. There +were two wheels to this mill, Harry told her, one on either side. Each +ran in its own stream, each was entirely independent of the other; they +worked alone, but each helped the other's work; the mill joined them and +they joined to make the mill. + +That was it! + +And she was not talking any generalities, and Harry was not, either. +They weren't, either of them, playing with this idea of mutual +independence. There would "of course" be a business basis to it, Rosalie +said. She was earning her own income and she would pay her half of the +upkeep of their home together. It was a stipulation that she advanced +with a definite fear that here, at last, she might be taking Harry from +his depth; that by natural instinct of generosity, or by instinct of +immemorial custom to endow the wife with all the husband's worldly +goods, he would here reveal a flaw in his till now flawless duplication +of the views that were her own. + +But Harry (the never failing rapture of it!) was every way without spot +or blemish. He was looking straight and close into her eyes while she +put forward this, and there moved not the least dissentient shade across +his own while he received it. She need have had no fear. He said, "I +agree absolutely with that, Rosalie. There's only one point--" and his +expansion of this point wholly entranced her because it established +conditions even more matter-of-fact and businesslike than her own broad +principle. + +"There's only one point," Harry said. "It can't be half and half in +terms of actual bisection. Look, Rosalie, in this matter of running the +home we're making a contract between two parties and--don't forget I'm a +lawyer--it has to be an equable and just contract, and to be that it has +to be based for each party's liability--Do you like me to use the law +jargon?" + +She nodded. "I do, I do!" This was frightfully, entrancingly serious for +her. This was a survey of the fortifications of her second line of her +defences. "I do, I do!" + +"Well, has to be based for each party's liability on each party's +interest, on the extent to which each party is involved. I'm making +more--an uncommon good bit more--than you are, Rosalie. My interest, +therefore my liability, that is, my share, has to be allowed to be +proportionately the more. Put it in another way. We're going to run an +establishment as an establishment might be run by two or more people of +different incomes who wish to join forces for mutual pleasure, two or +three relatives, two or three friends. Well, there's a regular principle +governing that kind of arrangement. You don't all pay the same. If you +did, you'd reduce the scale of living to the level of what the poorest +can afford, and half the idea of the combination is to enjoy a very +much better scale. No, you run the show on the level the wealthiest is +willing to go to, and to the total charge each one contributes in the +proportion of his income. If one party has a thousand a year and the +other five hundred, and the thousand-pounder wants to live at the rate +of nine hundred a year, he pays six hundred and the other three hundred. +Each is paying his just share--that's the point. That's how we'd arrange +it, Rosalie." + +She loved him so! If that were said a thousand times (as already perhaps +too often for the robust) it still would not approach the volume of its +swelling in the heart of Rosalie, for that was ceaseless. His attitude +in this matter now between them, as in every matter, might have been the +perfect agreement with her own view that it was and yet might so have +been presented as to be much antipathetic to her. His attitude might +have made her feel she ought to say, "Thank you, Harry, for agreeing to +that"; it might have had the note, "I know exactly how you feel about +marriage; I want to make every-thing just as you wish." Quicksands! +Principles to be received as grants, bases of her defences to be +accepted as concessions! Quicksands! At either attitude, as at a foreign +flavour in a cup, she would have drawn back, suspicious; at either sense +within herself, of winning a favour, of accepting a hazard, she would +have taken alarm, dismayed. But it was why she loved him so that here, +as everywhere, his standpoint was her standpoint's own reflection. She +was, as she would have said, deadly in earnest; deadly in earnest to +a depth that she could let go to absurdity and never know it for +absurdity; and so was he. + +Approving this plan of computation of the share that each would pay, "It +would have to be done strictly," she said, "as though it were strictly +business. And--you don't know, perhaps--I'm making, or soon shall be, +just on five hundred a year." + +He smiled the nice smile of his she loved, more with his eyes than with +his lips. "I'm afraid mine's a good bit more than that. Money's rather +pushed at you at the Bar once it starts. You'd have to put up with +that." + +Her fondness in her eyes reflected him. "I know how famous you are +getting. I'd not be stupid about that, Harry. It would be the just +share, each according to our means; that's understood. Only, for me, it +would have to be the just share, that's what I'm saying; not a matter of +form, a strict proportion." + +"If you liked," said Harry, "we'd give the figures to the costs clerk at +my chambers and let him work the contributions out." + +"Absurd!" she might have laughed; and as an absurdity he might, with a +laugh, have presented it. But quite gravely he made the suggestion, and +quite gravely, after a moment's grave thought, "I don't think that would +be necessary," she returned. + +His earnestness in this thing so vital to her matched her own, and +therefore she loved him; and he yet could bring to it lightly a touch +which, though light, yet was profoundly based; and therefore, newly, she +loved him. She knew she talked with immense profligacy of words in her +endeavour to make clear the principles this second line of her defences +must maintain. "Each with work and with a career, each with an own +and separate life." She kept repeating that. "Equal in work and in +responsibility, Harry, and therefore equal in place, in privilege, in +freedom." + +And Harry, with a light touch but a grave air, a happy setting for a +profound meaning, put it in a sentence. "Things which are equal to the +same thing are equal to one another," said Harry. + +She loved him so! + +But there ought here to be explained for her what, loving him so and +he so loving her, she could not have known for herself. This plan of +maintaining their establishment by contribution of share and share was +maintained by Rosalie from the beginning--to the end. She never had +cause to doubt that in all the earnestness of that close conversation +Harry was utterly sincere. She often recalled that steady gaze with no +dissentient shade across it with which his eyes received her statement +of her case and knew that only truth was in that gaze. He did believe +what she believed. It only was afterwards she discovered that also he +believed that, both for her and him, the thing would mellow down as +mellows down the year, her heady Aprils burnt in June, her burning Junes +assuaging to September; that it would pass; that time-- + +Yes, it must be explained. It was not active in his mind, this +reservation. It was passive, underlying, subconscious, as beneath +vigour's incredulity of death lies passively admission of death's final +certitude. He believed what she believed; but he believed it as are +believed infinity and eternity: wherein mankind, believing, reposes upon +that limitation of the human mind which cannot conceive infinity but +sees ultimately an end, and can pretend eternity through myriad years +but feels ultimately a termination. Harry believed what she believed but +only by stabilisation of a man's inherent articles of faith. He was of +the male kind; and observe, by an incident, what inherent processes of +thought the male kind has: + +When they were looking over the house which ultimately they took--an all +ways most desirable house in Montpelier Crescent, Knightsbridge--Rosalie +had only a single objection: it was far too big. + +"Miles too big," cried Rosalie, coming up to the second floor where +Harry had preceded her. "What are you doing there, Harry? Miles too big, +I was saying. It really is. Of course I realise you must have a house +suitable to your fame but--What are you doing, Harry?" + +"Fame, yes," breathed Harry, desperately occupied. "I've turned on this +tap and I can't turn it off again. Eternal fame. After me the deluge!" + +She was looking around. "But, Harry, really! Look at this floor. Two +more huge rooms. What can we--" + +"Mice and Mumps!" groaned Harry, straining at the tap. "Mice and Mumps!" + +He came to her wiping his hands on his handkerchief. "Too big! Look +here, supposing this house isn't washed away by that tap. Suppose it's +still standing here tomorrow. Take a broad, courageous view of the +thing. Suppose this isn't the beginning of the Great Flood of London, +and that we're going to live in a house and not an ark. Well, what +you've got to remember is that we're not coming in here for a week. +We've got to look ahead. Take these two rooms. Why, you can see what +they're for, what they've been. Opening into one another, and those +little bars on the windows, and that protected fireplace. Nurseries. Day +nursery and night nursery." + +Rosalie laughed. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +That's all done. The thing traverses the waters of the years, as across +seas a ship, and makes presently a new shore, a new clime, wherein are +met occasions new and strange, not anticipated by Rosalie. + +Here is one. + +Habitant in the new continent across these years, she is wife and, +though she had laughed, is mother, and on a day is with her Harry, and +Harry is saying, not at all with any hardness in his voice, but very +gravely: + +"I have a right to a home." + +She replies, as grave as he, as one debating a matter that is weighty +but that is before the arbitrament, not of feeling, but of reason, +"Harry, you have a home." + +A gesture of his head, much comprehensive, is made by him: "Is this a +home?" + +"It's where we live." + +"Ah, where we live, Rosalie!" + +She did not reply to this. Himself, and not she, spoke next; but his +note was as though she had answered and he were speaking in his turn. "I +have a right to a home. The children have a right to a home." + +She said, "Then, Harry, give yourself a home. Give the children a home." + +He said, "Rosalie, I am a man." + +She answered, "Harry, I am a woman." + +Harry was smoking and he indrew an inhalation from his pipe with a long +sibilant sound: her answer was very well understood by him. + +No, she never had anticipated this. + +Yet might not she have seen? Astounding how in life one's suddenly +engulfed in depths and never has perceived the shoals from which they +led; suddenly entombed in night and never has perceived the gradual +declination of the day! Why, when she looked back, so far away as in +those days of choosing their house had been in seed this thing that now +was come to fruit. And she had watched it grow from seed to seedling, +and on to bud and blossom, and never had suspected. + +But had she not? Then it was curious, she knew, that, alone of all her +thoughts, all her beliefs, all her theories, her observations and +her deductions from her observations, curious that of them all only a +certain observation, made when choosing their house, she never had told +to Harry. + +Choosing their house! She had gone back to her rooms from the third day +of their house-hunting gently amused at an addition to her compendium of +lore on the male habit. It was in a way like the cat idea; at least it +was, like that, reversal of a common opinion on distinguishing traits +as between men and women. It went in her mind like this and, because +it arose out of Harry, she laughed softly to herself as like this she +shaped it: + +"They say a woman marries for a home. Wrong, wrong! It's man that +marries for a home--a home that, having got it, superficially he cares +little enough about, and superficially uses as a good place to get away +from; but that's just how he uses his business, how he uses everything. +Oh, he wants it, he wants it, and he marries for it far more than a +woman wants it or marries for it. How plain it is! A man marries to +settle down, a woman for just precisely the opposite: to break up; to +get away from the constraints of daughterhood and of Miss-hood, as a +schoolgirl, holiday-bound, from the constraints of school; to enlarge +her life, not to restrict it; to aerate her life, not to compose it. +Why, it's inherent in a man, the desire for a home; it's in his bones. +Look at little boys playing--it's caves and tents and wigwams they +delight to play at; a place they can in part discover and in part +construct, and then arrange their things in, and then go off exploring +and then, all the time, be coming back to the delicious cave and creep +in and block up the door! Girls don't play at that; they play at shops +and being grown up, at nursing dolls and not themselves being nursed. +But that's your man--a hunter with a cave, and the return to the cave +the best part of the hunting. That's what he marries for--a home; a +pitch of his own; a place to bring his things to and wherein to keep his +things; an establishment; a solid, anchored base; a place where he +can have his wife and his children and his dogs and his books and his +servants and his treasures and his slippers and his ease, and can feel, +comfortably, that she and they and it are his,--his mysterious cave with +the door blocked up, his base, his moorings, his settled and abiding +centre. Dear Harry!" + +"Dear Harry" because all this had come to her while with secret, fond +amusement she had watched Harry delightedly and entrancedly fussing +about the houses they explored. The boy with a cave! The man with a +home! She liked the idea of a new home, and a home with Harry, but, +given outstanding features obviously essential, almost any home would +have satisfied her. She was animated and interested in the choosing, +but not with Harry's interest and animation. Hers were the feelings with +which she had established herself in the two-room suite at the boarding +house. There any two rooms would have done; here any pleasant house +would do. It was not the rooms; it was the significance of her entry +into their possession. It was not the house; it was the significance of +all connoted by the house. The rooms had been a stepping-off place to +independence larger and to triumphs new; the house was a stepping-off +place to independence, to triumphs, to battle of life and to joy of +life, lifted upon a plane high above her old world as the stars, as +bright and keen as they. + +But for Harry it was a stepping-in place. + +It was Harry that fussed and examined and measured and opened and shut +and tested and tried and must have this and must have that. It was Harry +who saw everything with the eye that was going to see it and live with +it permanently and for all time. It was Harry who invested every square +yard of every interior with the attributes that should be there when +they therein were domiciled. Harry who said, "This front door! Rosalie, +we're going to have a front door that will hit you in the eye and make +you say 'Mice and Mumps, there's a distinguished couple that live behind +a door like that!' None of your wretched browns and greens and blacks +and reds for our door, Rosalie! We'll have a yellow front door, gamboge. +I've seen it on a house in Westminster. I'll take you there. You wait +till you see it. Imagine it, Rosalie, beneath that lovely old fanlight +overhead. And then yellow window boxes tinted to match in every window +and crammed with flowers. It'll be a house you'll run to get into +directly you catch sight of it. Then inside here, in the hall, there'll +be the thickest rugs money can buy and the brightest light and the +warmest stove. You'll step in and shut the yellow door and, 'Mice and +Mumps,' you'll say, 'this is home!' Now, look here; here'll be my study; +I'll have bookshelves built in all round there and there and there. +Pictures there. This nook--I'll fix a little cupboard there and keep my +tools in. I'll spend half my time our first weeks pottering about with a +hammer and a pair of pliers. This place just here on the landing. Looks +like a dungeon. We'll knock out a window there and fit it up with hot +and cold water as a cloak room. Now here's your room, your--" + +"My study," she had interpolated, a little apprehensive lest for her +private room he should use another word. + +"Yes, your study, rather. Each of us with our own study! A lark, eh? +And Rosalie, in mine there'll be a special chair for you and in yours a +special chair for me. We'll stroll in on each other's work--" + +She loved him for that. "Like two men in chambers," she said. + +His reply was, "We'll rip out this fireplace and put you in one in +oak; the walls something between gold and brown, eh? Now come into +the drawing-room. This'll be the room. Let's start with the hearth and +imagine it's winter. This is where we'll have tea the days when I get +back in time--" + +"And when I get back in time." + +"Of course, I'd forgotten that. Why, then whichever of us is back first +will be all ready with the tea and waiting to welcome the other. Can't +you see the room? Warm, shadowed, glowing here and there, here and there +gleaming, and the tea table shining? Won't it be a place to rush back +to? I say, Rosalie, it's going to be rather wonderful, isn't it?" + +Dear Harry! Yes, men that married for a home. + +So she had known that from the start; and, the significant thing (as +later perceived) she never had mentioned it to Harry. There was not +a line of her life, as lived before she knew him, that she had not +revealed to him; there was not a passage of her life, when joined to +his, that was not handed to him to write upon; but this, that she knew +he'd married for a home, was never revealed, never inscribed upon the +tablets submitted daily for his annotation. + +Yes, significant! + +But how could its significance have been perceived? Look here, there had +been a night--a thousand years ago!--when a girl had turned her face to +her pillow and cried, most frightfully. Significant! Why, that girl's +world had lain in atoms at the significance of that girl's grief. And +she that now looked back had been born out of those tears, as the first +woman drawn from the side of the first man, and fondly had chid that +child that no significance was there at all. There was none. There was +nothing to fear. A natural joy of life that had been stifled had been +embraced, a shattered world had been remoulded on foundings firmer and, +ah, nearer to the heart's desire. Significant! It had been so disproved +that not more possibly could fears arise from those, her lovely +dissipations of those fears, than from its watchful mother's reassuring +candle and her soothing words new terrors to a frightened child at +night. + +Then how, she used to ask herself, could significance have been +perceived in not admitting Harry to her smiling thought on men and home? +Significance--then? Nay, memory bear witness, much, much the contrary! +Bear witness, memory, it was that very thought of Harry as boy with +cave, as man with home, had suddenly suffused her with... + +"Dear Harry!" she had thought, and with the thought... + +Anna! That cry of Anna's upon that frightening night, striking her hands +against her bosom, "I have a longing--here!" Never till then its meaning +nor even thought upon its meaning. + +Then! Upon that thought--"Dear Harry!"--had come, with a catch at the +breath as at an obscure twinge of pain, a tremor of the sense that +was its meaning: thereafter flooding all her being as floods a flood +a pasture. A longing to be mother, Anna's longing was! A longing to +be mother, to hold a tiny scrap against her breast; to have her heart, +bursting for such release, torn out by baby fingers; to have her design +of God, insufferably overpacked within her by the remorseless pressure +of instinct through a million ages, relieved, discharged, fulfilled by +motherhood. Poor Anna! Ah, piteous! "Oh, God, thou knowest how hard it +is to be a woman." Poor, piteous Anna, and poor, piteous every woman +that, made vessel of this yearning, must have it unfulfilled. + +Not she! + +The coronet of love, denied poor Anna, was hers. He'd said "These +rooms--the nurseries"; the crown of love; and she had laughed! + +Oh, stubborn still! Oh, still not cognisant of nature's dower to her +sex. To wear the coronet and to refuse the crown! To be wife and not to +be mother! To think of baby fingers and to think to put away the offer +of their baby clutch! + +That girl that turned her face to her pillow and began to cry, most +frightfully, cried next again when she again lay abed and had a tiny +scrap, an ugly, exquisite, grotesque, miraculous scrap, a baby boy, a +baby man, along her arm and watched it there. Those had been passionate +and rending tears; these did not even flow. Those burned her eyes; these +stood within her eyes a lovely welling up of pride and adoration, +drawn from her by this newly risen wonder as by the sun at his arising +moisture in lovely mists is drawn from earth. + +Motherhood! When later he was christened, she and Harry named him Hugh; +but it was a caressing diminutive she made out of his name by which he +was always known. Her tiny son! His tiny arms hugged you as never tiny +arms possibly could have hugged before and so she called him "Huggo." + +"Harry, if you could feel how he's hugging me! It's absurd he can +have such strength! It's ridiculous he can love me so! And how can he +possibly know that hugging's a sign of love? Harry, how can he? Take him +and hold him up like that and see if he hugs you the same. He is! He is! +Isn't he?" + +"Mice and Mumps," said Harry, "he is; he's throttling me, the tiger." + +"Ah, give him back, I'm jealous. There's never, never been a hugger +like him since the world began. He's Huggo. That's his name. Creature +straight out of heaven, you're Huggo." + +Her love for infant Huggo so maternal; her unity with Harry so +exquisitely one; how could she have known were to be met across the +waters of the years occasions new and strange, as that already shown, +or, onward yet a further voyage, as this? + +The matter between them touched the same as when, "I have a right to a +home; the children have a right to a home," Harry had said. But their +tones not the same; in Harry's voice a quality of dulness as of one +reciting a lesson too often conned yet never understood; in hers a +certain weariness as with instruction too often given. + +They had been talking a very long time. Harry hadn't any arguments. He +just kept coming back and coming back to the one thing. He said again, +the twentieth time, in that dull voice, "We are responsible for the +children. We have a duty towards them." + +The twentieth time! She made a gesture, not impatient, just tired, that +was of repletion with this thing. "Ah, you say 'we' have a duty. You say +'we'; but, Harry, you mean me. Why I a duty more than you? Why am I the +accused?" + +Harry's dull note: "Because you are a woman." Ineffable weariness was +in the murmur that was her reply. "Ah, my God, that reason!" No, she had +never anticipated this. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +How did it happen? Within her face abode the explanation of how it +happened. + +There was a mirage in her face. + +If she were taken (for a moment) when she had been married ten years, +her age thirty-two, and then taken again when she was forty-six, when +she had done, when, in 1922, she said, "I have done," and her story +ceases, it is material to a portrait of her that in those fourteen years +her appearance did not greatly change. Events inscribed it; but these +writings were in two scripts, rendered in the two natures that were +hers, and, as it were, a balance was maintained between them; there +remained constant the aspect that her face presented to the world; +constant, that is to say, the spirit that looked out of her face. + +That girl that at the door of the great house in Pilchester Square had +breathed, "You knew, before I knew, that I loved you," had been called +beautiful. This woman that now was wife and now was mother was beautiful +with that girl's beauty and with her own, matured of years, set upon it. +That girl, shaded in her colouring, commonly was sombre in her hue, but +with a quick, impetuous spirit beneath her flesh that, flashing, somehow +lightened all her tints; this woman, albeit dark, had somehow about her +a deep golden hue as of dusk in a deep wood beheld against a sunset. +Her face had always had a boyish look and still, with years, was +boyish. There was a mirage in her face. The stranger glanced and saw a +mother--extraordinarily shielding and maternal and benignant things; +and looked again and saw a boy--astonishingly reckless and impetuous +and rather boyish, hard and mutinous things. Or glanced and saw a boy, +perhaps laughing and eager, perhaps obstinate and petulant; and looked +again and only much tenderness was there. + +There was a mirage in her face; and with its changes her voice changed. +When she was a boy her voice was April; when she was a mother September +was her voice. + +There were two natures in her and those were their reflections; two +lodestars set above her that by turns brightened and drew her gaze; two +lodestones set within her that claimed her banners as claim the moon and +earth the inconstant sea; one of head, one of heart; one of choice, one +of dower; one of will, one of nature. + +In that tenth year her married life there stood for the mother in her +face three children: Huggo who then was nine; Dora, whom she called Doda +because in her first prattle this heart's delight of hers-"A baby girl! +A beloved one, Harry, to be daughter to me, and to be a tiny woman with +me as little girls always are, and then budding up beside me and being +myself to me again, my baby girl, my daughter, my woman-bud, my heart's +own heart!"--had thus pronounced her name, who then was seven; and last +Benjamin, then five, whom she named Benjamin because, come third, come +after cognizance of confliction within herself, come after resentment of +his coming--called Benjamin because, come out of such, there were such +happy tears, such tender, thank-God, charged with meaning tears to greet +him, the one the last of three, the little tiny one, so wee beside the +lusty, toddling others. Benjamin she told Harry he must be named; Benji +she always called him. + +Huggo and Doda and Benji! Her children! Her darling ones, her lovely +ones! Love's crown; and, what was more, worn in the persons of these +darling joys of hers (when they were growing up to nine and seven and +five years old) in signal, almost arrogant in her disdain of precedent +to the contrary, that woman might be mother and yet work freely in the +markets of the world precisely as man is father but follows a career. + +Children! There had been a time when, speaking from the boy that would +stand mutinous and reckless in her face, and with her April voice, she +had expressed her view on parentage in terms of the old resentment +at the old disability, encountered, bedrocked, wherever into life she +struck a new trail; in terms of the old invertion of an old conceit +wherever with her principles she touched conventional opinion. The +catlike attributes, the marriage for a home, here the familiar saw on +parenthood-- + +"They talk about hostages to fortune," she had expressed her idea, +"they talk about a man with young children as having given hostages to +fortune. You know, it's quite absurd. He doesn't. I don't say a man to +whom the support of children is a financial anxiety hasn't, by begetting +them, placed himself in a position of captivity to fortune, or to the +future, or whatever you like to call it. He very much has. He's backed +a bill that any day may fall due and find him without means to meet it; +he's let himself in for blackmail, always over him a threat. But +I'm talking about men above the struggle line. They don't, in their +children, give hostages. It's the woman does that. Men don't give nor +forfeit anything. It's the woman gives and forfeits. Why, when his +friends meet a man who was last met a bachelor a couple or three years +ago, what change do they see in him? They don't see any change at all. +There isn't any change to see. He has to tell them; and he always tells +them rather sheepishly or rather boisterously. 'I'm married, you know,' +he says. 'Yes, rather. Man alive, I've got two kids!' The other says, +'My aunt!'--more probably he says 'My God!'--'My God, fancy you!' And +they both laugh--laugh! + +"Hostages to fortune! To a man and amongst men it's just a joke. It's no +joke to a woman. Do you suppose a married girl, meeting old friends, +has to tell them she's a mother, or, if she had to tell them, would tell +them like that? Can't they see it at a glance? Isn't she changed? Isn't +she, subtly perhaps, but unmistakably, altogether different from the +unfettered thing she used to be? Of course she is. How otherwise? She's +given hostages to fortune and she's paying; she's being bled. She's +giving up things, she's not going out so much, she's not reading so +much, she's not playing so much, she's not interested so much in what +used to interest her. How can she? There's the children. How can she? +She's given hostages to fortune. Oh, happy is the man that hath children +for they are as arrows in the quiver of a giant. But it's the woman is +the arrowbearer! It's the woman pays." + +Lo, there had come to this intolerance the longing--"Here!"--that Anna's +bosom had, the urge to hold a tiny scrap against her breast, to have +her heart, bursting for such release, torn out by baby fingers. It had +o'erborne the other. She had thrown herself upon its flood; not yielded +to it as one drawn in by rising waters, but tempestuously engulfed by +it and borne away upon it as swallowed up and borne away in Harry's arms +when "Rosalie! Rosalie!" he had cried to her. + +That which the subsidence revealed, adoringly she called her Huggo. + +There was a mirage in her face. When, turned again towards the star to +which she showed her boyish and impetuous look, and, following, she felt +again the call that set the mother in her face, she this time reasoned. +That idea that, having children, it was the woman who gave hostages to +fortune! Deadly and cruelly true it was, but only by convention. Why +should it be so? Why should motherhood that was the crown of love, of +woman's life, be paid for in coin that no man was called upon to pay? +Unjust; and need not be! She perfectly well had carried on her work with +Huggo. Sleeping was the adored creature's chief lot in life. If she had +ever thought (which she never had) of giving up her work and staying at +home on his account, what could she have done but twirl her thumbs and +watch him sleep and in his lovely lively hours superintend the nurse +who required no superintendence? As it was she was about him in the +delicious exercises of transporting him from cot through toilet and +refreshment to readiness to take the air. His lordship was off in his +lordship's perambulator by nine o'clock every morning. She did not +herself leave, with Harry, till shortly before ten. There, in instance, +was an hour at home with not the smallest benefit to Huggo. It would +have been the same, had she remained at home, with three in four of all +the other hours. Ridiculous to lay down that a mother, having a good +nurse and a well-ordered house and a husband out all day, must tie +herself there, abandoning her own life, to attend her children! +Children! Darlings of her own! Ease for this yearning in her heart, +assumption of this lovely glory that was her natural right! Yes, she +had proved love not to be incompatible with her freedom; she would show +motherhood as beautifully could be joined. + +It seemed to her a blessing upon, and an assurance in, her purpose that +in the precious person of a little daughter came the embodiment of this +reasoning and of this design. A baby girl! A tiny woman-bud to be a +woman with her in the house of Harry and of Huggo! A woman treasury into +which she could pour her woman love! Her self's own self, whose earliest +speech chose for herself her name--her Doda! + +It all worked splendidly. Winged on the eager pinions of their +individual lives these two nested their joined life in a home that for +every inmate was a perfect home; perfect for a husband, perfect for a +wife, perfect for the babies, perfect for the servants. The peace of +every home in civilized society rests ultimately on the kitchen, and the +peace of half the homes known to Harry and to Rosalie was in constant +rupture by upheavals thence. Not so behind the gamboge door. Rosalie +always granted it to men that, as was commonly said, servants worked +better for men. Men kept out of the irrational creatures' way; that was +about it. The conduct of her life gave her the like advantage. Giving +her orders before she left the house, she was out all day and never +unexpectedly in. Positively the servants welcomed her on her return at +five o'clock! + +The babies, to whom then she flew, were with a perfect nurse. Harry had +helped in her appointment. She had come one evening, early in the life +of Huggo, when a change had to be made from the nurse who specialised +only up to the point then reached by Huggo, and she had presented +herself to them, seated together in Harry's study, a short body, one +shape and a solid shape from her shoulders to her shoes, who announced +her name as Muffett. + +"Miss Muffett, I hope," said Harry gravely. + +"Unmarried, sir," said Muffett with equal gravity and with a sudden +drop and then recovery of her stature as though some one had knocked her +behind the knees. + +"There's nothing to do," said Harry when she had gone, "but to buy her +a turret and engage her"; and there was nothing to do, when she was +installed, but enjoy the babies and delight in them just as a man enjoys +and delights in his tiny ones,--in the early mornings before Rosalie +left for her work, in the evenings when she returned home. + +It all worked splendidly. In those early years, when two were in the +nursery and as yet no third, there wasn't a sign that Harry who had +married for a home ever could say, "I have a right to a home." He had, +and he was often saying so, the most perfect home. He came not home of a +night to a wife peevish with domestic frets and solitary confinement and +avid he should hear the tale of them, nor yet to one that butterflied +the day long between idleness and pleasures and gave him what was left. +He came nightly to a home that his wife sought as eagerly as he sought, +a place of rest well-earned and peace well-earned. That was it! "Things +which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other." They had +discovered and had removed the worm of disparity that eats away the +heart of countless marriages. They not infrequently had friends in to +dinner, not infrequently dined at the tables of friends, made a point +of not infrequently attending a theatre or a concert; but however the +evening had been passed--and the evenings alone were always agreed to +be the best evenings of all--there was none but they ended sitting +together, not in the drawing-room, but in Harry's study or in hers, just +talking happiness. Equal in endeavour, they were thereby made equal on +every plane and in every taste. A reciprocating machine. That was it! + +At least that was how, profoundly satisfied with it, she thought it was. + +Then Benji came. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +There were attendant upon the expectation and the coming of Benji +certain processes of mind that had not been with Huggo or with Doda. +When it was in prospect she had vexation, sometimes a sense of injury, +that again her work was to be interrupted. It would make no difference +to Harry. It happened that the days of her trial were timed to fall on +the date when a criminal prosecution of sensational public interest was +due for hearing at the Old Bailey. Harry, for the defence, had added +immensely to his brilliant reputation when seeing it through the +preliminary stages before the magistrate. The Old Bailey proceedings +were to be the greatest event, thus far, in his career. He had told +her--how proud and delighted to hear it she had been!--that if he pulled +it off (and he had set his heart on pulling it off) he would really +begin to think about "taking silk." + +Well, but she also had her heart, in no single or sensational climax of +her work, but in its every phase and every hour. It absorbed her. Two +years earlier Mr. Simcox had begun disturbing signs of health that, +begun, developed rapidly. His brisk activity went out of him. His walk +had the odd suggestion of one carrying a load. His perky air went dull. +His mind was like a flagging watch, run down. He could not concentrate, +he suffered passages of aphasia, he began more and more to "give up the +office," more and more to leave things to her. The agency in both its +branches, scholastic and insurance, developed well. She was its head +and it absorbed her. She had a sense, that was like wine to her, of +increasing swiftness of decision, of power, of judgment, of vision, +of resource. She used to hurry to her office of a morning as an artist +urgent with inspiration will hurry to his colours, or a poet to his +pen,--avid to exercise that which was within her. + +Well, it was to be stopped. Childbed. For a month at least, for two +months more likely, all was to be set aside, to go into abeyance, to +drift. Whereas Harry's work.... Yes, vexatious! These laws that gave men +the desirable place in life were not laws but conventions and she had +proved them such; but with all proved there yet remained to the man +privileges, to the woman restraints, that were ordinances fundamental +and not to be escaped. Yes, injurious! + +Thus in those weeks of the coming of him that was to be Benji, solely +the boy of aspect mutinous and impetuous was in her face; and when +within a month stood her appointed time came an event that stiffened +there that aspect, turned it, indeed, actively upon the child within her +waiting deliverance. This event in its momentous incidence on her career +placed its occasion on parity with Harry's anticipations of the Old +Bailey trial. Mr. Simcox died. + +There's no use labouring why the emotions that at this loss should have +been hers were not hers. That girl whose eyes had gathered tears at the +picture of the little figure with flapping jacket peering through the +curtains at the postman's "rat-tat-flick" was not present in the woman +whose first thought at the sudden news, brought to her seated in her +office, was, "At such a time! Just when--Now what is to be done?" True +for her that there followed gentle feelings, and gentler yet in her +attendance on her patron's obsequies, in the discovery that all of which +he died possessed he'd left to her, but it is the duller surfaces that +are slowest to give refraction, the least used springs that are least +pliant. She was come a long road from her first signs of hardening. She +was past, now, the stage where, when grieving for the little old man, +she would have felt contrition that her first thought at his death had +been, not of him, but of his death's effect upon her work. + +And there supervened, immediately, interests that caused the passing of +Mr. Simcox merely--to have passed. + +Mr. Sturgiss, of Field and Company, attending the funeral with her, said +to her as he was taking his leave, "One would say this isn't a moment to +be talking of other things, business things, but after all--In a way it +is the moment. You'll be making new arrangements and rearrangements now. +Before you start settling anything I want you to have in mind the old +proposition. You've been loyal to poor Simcox to the end. This business +is your own now. We want it. We want you. We want you in Lombard +Street." + +This, cut and dried, glowingly enlarged in long interviews with Mr. +Sturgiss and Mr. Field, succinctly reduced to writing by the firm that +it might be fairly studied, was before her, not demanding, but eagerly +absorbing, her most earnest attention when she was a fortnight from her +trial. This was the event whose momentous incidence on her career +placed the days then in process and immediately in prospect on parity of +importance with their meaning to Harry, absorbed in preparation for his +case. There was so much to weigh; and like a threat, a doom, banked +her impending banishment from affairs, distracting her, haunting her, +hurrying her. There was so much to do, to settle, to wind up (for she +found herself arranging for the change even while she debated it); and +in the midst of it she was to be cut off as by term of imprisonment! +There was so much to scheme, to plan, to dream (her mind already +elevated among the high places of her new outlook); and between now and +action she was to go--out of action. + +Whereas Harry.... Whose child it was also to be.... + +Yes, injurious! + +Not injurious as between dear Harry and herself; but injurious as +between his sex and hers. There were moments of thinking upon the +difference when she could have conceived a grudge against the child she +was to bear. + +And Harry could not perceive the difference! Immersed in his +preparations and, when the case opened, lost to all else in his case, he +presented precisely that faculty (and that permission by convention) of +complete detachment from his home that long she had known to be man's +most outstanding and most enviable quality. He had no attention to spare +for the consideration of her own problem and ambition, and she was too +honourable to his interests, and too devoted to him in his interests, to +bother him with hers. But, more significantly to her feelings than that, +he was also too immersed to offer her, in her ordeal of childbirth, the +sympathy and the anxiety that, unengrossed, he would have shown. It +was there, profound and loving, beneath the surface; but his work came +first. He was a man, capable of detachment, permitted by convention to +practise detachment, by gift of, nature not inhibited from detachment. +A man, he could put it beneath the surface. A woman, in conflict of her +instincts and her ambitions, it was her ambitions that she must sink. +That was it! Yes, injurious. + +And he did not even understand. + +On what proved to be the evening before her delivery, and was the third +day of Harry's case, she was lying, as she had lain some days, on the +Chesterfield in the drawing-room, loosely robed. Harry had thought +he could get back to tea, and got back. He came to her with tenderest +concern, and with immense tenderness at once was talking to her. But she +could see! The apparent deepening of all the lines of his dear, striking +face, as of one who for hours has been under enormous concentration; +the slight huskiness of his voice, from hard service; the repressed +excitation in his air; the frequent glint behind the soft regard of his +eyes, as of one that has been hunting high and hunting well--she could +see; she could tell where was his spirit! + +Her own went lovingly to meet it where it was. "Ah, never mind all +that, Harry. Tell me all that's been happening to you. How is it going, +Harry?" + +Dear Harry! Most mannish man! She laughed (and he laughed too, knowing +perfectly well why she laughed) to note the delight, like a dog from +chain, with which he bounded off into his mind's absorption. He sat +upright. He grabbed for a cigarette and inhaled it tremendously. "It's +going like cutting butter with a hot knife. I started cross-examining +today. I gave him three and a half hours of it, straight off the ice, +and I'm not through with him yet. Not half. If he had as many legs as a +centipede he'd still not have one left to stand on when I'm through with +him. I doubt he'll have his marrow bones to crawl out on, the way he's +crumpling up. Even old Hounslow at his worst can't possibly misdirect +the jury, the way I've gummed their noses on the trail. I'll tell you--" + +He told her. + +She had put out both her hands and taken one of his. "It's splendid, +Harry. It's too splendid. How delighted I am, and proud, proud! No one +would have imagined it at the beginning. What a triumph it will be for +you!" + +His grasp squeezed hers in fond response. "Why, it won't do me any +harm," he agreed. His tone was light. He released his hand and took up +a cup of tea, and his tone went deep. "Mind you, I'm glad about it," +he said, and stirred the spoon thoughtfully within the cup. He had come +into the room declaring he was dying for some tea, but he had touched +none, and he now replaced the cup untasted on the table and she saw on +his face the deep "inward" look that she knew (and loved) for the sign +of intense concentration of his mind. "Yes, glad," he spoke; his voice, +as was its habit when he was "inward," sounding as though it was the +involuntary, and not the intentional, utterance of his thoughts. "I've +gone all out over this case. I saw, the minute they briefed me, that +one tiny flaw, his neglect to take up that option--you remember, I told +you--right down at the bottom of the whole tangle, and I went plumb down +for it and hung on to it and fought it up like, like a diver coming up +from fathoms down." + +She had a quickness of imagery. It constantly delighted him. "Yes, +that's good," she declared. "Up like a diver, Harry. Not with goggles +and a helmet and all that, but shot up like a flash, all shining and +glistening and triumphant with the jewel aloft. What a shout there'd be! +Dear Harry! You're splendid!" + +He smiled most lovingly. "As a matter of fact, I feel I ought to make a +mess of it. It'll be the first big case since we've been together that, +while it's been on, we haven't had talks about. You couldn't, of course, +with this so near to you. It would be significant, and proper, if I +drowned in it." + +She shook her head. "Absurd! Why, the thing I'm most glad about, Harry, +is that all this"--she indicated with a gesture her pose, her dress, her +condition--"that all this hasn't in the least upset your work. It might +have. It hasn't--and when it happens, it won't, will it?" + +Harry said, "I'm rather ashamed to say it hasn't, in the least. I've +thought of you, often, but I've simply put the thought away. And when +it happens, I shall think of you--terribly--going through it; and of the +small thing--But we shall be in the crisis of the case and I shall have +to forget you. I'll have to, Rosalie, as I have had to. The work must go +on." + +She agreed emphatically. "Of course it must." She then said, "Whereas +mine--" + +He did not attend her. The "inward" look was deep upon his face. There +was the suggestion of a grimmish smile about his mouth. One could +have guessed that he was rehearsing, with satisfaction, his enormous +application while the work was going on. + +She gave a sound of laughter, and that aroused him. "What's the joke?" + +"Why, just how this does rather illuminate the point--" + +"The point...?" + +"Your work and mine--a man's and a woman's." + +"Yes, tell me, dear." + +"Why, Harry, I do think of it sometimes. We've planned it and arranged +it and settled it so nicely, these years, and you see the big thing +in marriage comes along and shatters it to bits. Your work goes on +precisely as if nothing at all were happening; mine has to stand by." + +"Ah, but this," Harry said, and in his turn indicated her condition. +"This--this is different. We agreed, before Huggo, that if we had +children it need make no difference to you, to your work, in a way. And +it hasn't, and needn't now--when it's over. But this time, this period, +why, that's bound to interfere." + +"But it doesn't interfere with you. It shows the difference." + +"Oh, it shows the difference," he assented. + +His tone was conspicuously careless, conceding the difference but +attaching to it no importance at all; and with it he rose--she had +instantly the impression of him as it were brushing the difference like +a crumb from his lap--and announced, "I'm going to my study now for a +couple of hours before dinner. I must. Our solicitor's coming in." He +bent over her and kissed her lovingly. "You understand, I know." + +And he went. + +Yes, it showed the difference! And was not seen by him! Yes, injurious. +Yes, could conceive a grudge.... + +There was a mirage in her face. Her face, that had been boy's and +mutinous these weeks, was Mary's and was lovely in maternal love when it +was turned towards the scrap that on a morning lay against her breast; +her thoughts, that had been stubborn, hard, resentful while her days +approached, welled in remorse, compassion, yearning, joy, when they were +past and this was come. She'd grudged him, this littlest one! Grudged +his right, put her own right against it, this tiny, helpless one! When, +added to these thoughts, Huggo and Doda, those lovely darlings, were +permitted to see him, asleep beside her, he was so wee, so almost +nothing against their sturdy limbs, and had come so unwanted--yes, +unwanted, this cherishable one of all!--that she knew instantly what +name he must be given. Her Benjamin! + +Lying much alone in the succeeding days, contrite, adoring; with +frequent happy tears (she was left weak): with tender, thank-God, +charged with meaning tears, she found a vindication of her self-reproach +that immensely bound her up, forgave her, gave her comfort. She could +give up her work! She could leave all and be with her darlings! Of +course she could! At any time! She had grudged the right to come of +this defenceless scrap. She had set against his right her own right. Ah, +dangerous! A long road lay that way! In conflict of his coming, with her +own rights she had been much engaged. Here, on the sheet beside her, and +in the nursery, overhead, were other rights. Well, when they claimed.... +Of course she could! She had not thought enough about these things.... + +There is to be said for her that she thought not very widely nor +very deeply upon them now. Her resolution that she could, when it was +necessary, give up her work, scattered them. It came to her as comes to +a man, beset by poverty, scheming by this way and by that to abate it, +news of a legacy. He ceases, in his relief, his present schemes; he +has "no need to worry now." Or came to her as comes a sail to one +shipwrecked and adrift, painfully calculating out his final dregs +of food and water. He ceases, at that emblem, his desperate plans to +stretch his days. He's all right now. + +It was like that with Rosalie. + +While only she had realised her resentment of this baby's claims, and +only now her contrite yielding to them; before she had conjectured +deeply on all the problem thus revealed; there came to her, like way +of escape to one imprisoned, like instantaneous lifting of a fog to one +therein occluded, the thought, "I can give up the work." + +Of course she could! At any moment; by a word; by the mere formulation +of the step within her mind, she could abandon her career. Not now. +It was not necessary now. But if or when--she used that phrase, in set +terms propounding her resolution to herself--if or when the call of +her children, of her home, came and was paramount, she could give up +everything and respond to it. Oh, happy! Oh, glad discharge of her +remorse! When the children wanted her she could just--come back. Field +and Company, her career, her successes--what of them? She had done +well in her career, she still would do well. Let the claim of home and +children once come into the scale against the claim of those ambitions +and--she would just come back! + +Oh, happy! + +"Come back"? Who was it had said something about that, something about +"come back" for a woman, making the expression thus dimly familiar in +her mind? Who? Laetitia? No, Laetitia was always associated with another +phrase: striking because in terms identical with accusation previously +delivered against her. Well she remembered it! On the day following +Harry's visit to the house to take his deserts from poor Aunt Belle and +Uncle Pyke, she also had gone there, following his high idea of what was +right. She had been refused admittance. There had come for her as the +last voice out of that house a quivering letter from Aunt Belle, seeming +to quiver in the hand with the passionate upbraiding that had indited +it, and a forlorn sentence from Laetitia. "I have done everything for +you, everything, everything, and this is how you have rewarded me," had +pulsed the pages of Aunt Belle; Laetitia only had written: + +"Oh, Rosalie! You could have had any one you liked to love you, but you +took my Harry and I shall never, never have another." + +Miss Salmon's cry again! Twice identically accused. Once grotesquely +accused; once, on the surface, rightly accused. Both times aware how +poignant and pathetic was the cry; not moved the first time, not moved +the second. Recurring to her now, she knew again how broken-hearted sad +it was, and knew again it ought to move, but did not. Well, not strange +now. She was a long way out of those too soft compassions. No, not +Laetitia had made "come back" familiar to her. The phrase, as she seemed +to recollect its context, was too profoundly practical for the Laetitia +sort; and that was why, of course, it moved her nothing. She had learnt, +jostling off corners in the market place, what formerly she had only +conjectured,--that there was in life no room for sentiment, it clogged; +it hampered; it brought sticky unreality into that which was sharply +real. "Come back?" No, not Laetitia. Who? Keggo? Yes, it was Keggo; and +immediately with the name's recovery was recovered the phrase's context. +This very matter! "Rosalie, a woman can't--come back." + +Absurd! But, yes, how she remembered it now! "Very dangerous being a +woman," Keggo had said. "Men go into dangers but they come out of them +and go home to tea. That's what it is with men, Rosalie. They can always +get out. They can always come back. They never belong to a thing, heart +and soul, body and mind. Rosalie, women do. That's why it is so very, +very dangerous being a woman. Women can't come back. They take to a +thing, anything, and go deep enough, and they're its; they never, never +will get away from it; they never, never will be able to come back out +of it. Rosalie, I tell you this, when a woman gives herself, forgets +moderation and gives herself to anything, she is its captive for ever. +She may think she can come back but she can't come back. For a woman +there is no comeback. They don't issue return tickets to women. For +women there is only departure; there is no return." + +Poor Keggo! + +Poor Keggo had of course founded her theory upon her own bitter plight. +How she had given her case away when she had said, "Look at me!" It +applied to her, of course, or to any woman--or man for that matter--who +drank or drugged. It applied not in the least to such a case as this of +her own. Keggo had tried to apply it. She had said, "You have a theory +of life. You are bent upon a career in life. Suppose you ever wanted to +come back?" + +She had laughed and declared she never would want to come back. Well, +look how absurd all poor Keggo's idea was now being proved! It had +suddenly occurred to her that it might at some future time be required +of her to come back; and all she had to do was just--to come back. No +difficulty about it whatsoever! No struggle! Indeed, and fondly she +touched that by her side which had called up these thoughts, she would +come back joyously. Of course she would! Field and Company, ambition, +that for if and when her darlings called her! Yes, wrong every way, +that poor Keggo. Dangerous being a woman, she had said, and it was not +dangerous. It could be, and she had proved it, a state that could be +lived full in every aspect,--full in freedom, full in endeavour, full +in love, full in motherhood. Dangerous! A week ago, inimical to this +advent, injurious; now, in this advent's presence, and with this +resolution gladly dedicated to it, only and wholly glorious. + +This one! Come after connection, come in contrition, come to call +her back when she should need to be called, the little tiny one, the +belovedest one, the Benjamin one--her Benji! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Those children were brought up with every modern advantage. Wisdom is +judged by the age in which it flourishes, and everything that the day +accounts wise for children those children had. Their father was of +considerable and always increasing means; their mother was of great +and untrammelled intelligence: anything that money could provide for +children, and that intelligent principles of upbringing said ought to be +provided for children, those children enjoyed. When they were out of the +care of Muffet, who was everything that a nurse ought to be, they +passed into the care of a resident governess, Miss Prescott, who was a +children's governess, not for the old and fatuous reason that she "loved +children," but for the new and intelligent reason that she was attracted +by the child-mind as a study and was certificated and diplomaed in the +study of children as an exact science,--Child Welfare as she called it. +Miss Prescott had complete charge of the children while they were tiny +and while they were growing up to eleven and nine and Benji to +seven years old. She taught them their lessons (on her own, the new, +principles) and on the same principles their habits and the formation of +their characters. It might roundly be said that everything troublesome +in regard to the children was left to Miss Prescott, and, left to her, +came never between the children and their mother. Their mother only +enjoyed her children, presented to her fresh, clean and happy for the +purpose of her enjoyment; and the children only enjoyed their mother, +visiting them smiling, devoted, unworried, for the purpose of their +happiness. + +It was a perfect, and a mutually beneficial arrangement. As there had +been, before the children came, two independent lives behind the gamboge +door, so, with the occupation of the nurseries, there were, as it might +be, three independent households, mingling, at selected times, only for +purposes of happiness. + +It was perfect. In the summer a house was taken at Cromer by the sea and +there, all through the fine weather, Miss Prescott was installed with +her charges. Their mother had three weeks from Field's in the summer and +she and their father would spend the whole of it, and often week-ends, +at Cromer idling and playing with their darlings. That was jolly. The +children associated nothing whatever but happiness with their parents. + +In the other months of the year their mother was immensely occupied with +her work at Field's, developing beyond expectation; and their father +early and late with his work in the Temple, his esteem by solicitors and +by litigants almost beyond his time to satisfy. Their father was +much paragraphed in the social journals, and their mother also. The +paragraphs said their father was making a "princely fortune" at the Bar +and never told of him without telling also of his wife. They described +her as "of Field's Bank" and always drove the word "unique" hand in +hand with every mention of her parts. "Unique personality"; "unique +position"; "unique among professional women"; "unique," said one, "in +combining notable beauty and rare business acumen; an office which +she attends daily and a charming home; a profession, three beautiful +children, and a brilliant husband." + +The syntax is weak, but the truth is in it and those children were to be +envied in their mother. + +Miss Prescott, when she came, did not displace the Muffet. She +was installed additional to the Muffet; and as touching the modern +principles relating to children she very soon told Muffet a thing or +two not previously dreamt of in the Muffet philosophy but having, thence +forward, occasional place in the Muffet nightmares. + +The Muffet, however, was of lymphatic character, with, as her most +constant desire, the desire not to be "plagued." She was one of those +people who are for ever declaring that they never eat anything, who at +meals, indeed, appear to eat very little, but who between meals, are +eating all day long. At all hours of the day the Muffet jaws, like the +jaws of a ruminant, were steadily munching, munching. When Benji was +three Muffet was getting distinctly fat. On a corner of the night +nursery mantelpiece she had a photographic group of her parents and of +an uncle and aunt who lived with her parents. These four were very fat +and one evening the children's father made a remark about this portrait +that made their mother laugh delightedly. + +Benji was in his cot. Huggo had just come from his bath and was having +his toes wiped by his mother because he declared Muffet had not dried +them properly. He said Muffet groaned when she stooped. + +His mother said, "You know, Harry, Muffet is getting fat. Have you +noticed it?" + +Their father was bent almost double swinging Doda between his legs, +the stomach of Doda reposing on the palms of his joined hands and Doda +squealing ecstatically. + +Their father said, "I have. Go and look at that photograph, Rosalie, and +you'll see why. Look at what her people are. Muffet's broadening down +from precedent to precedent." + +It made their mother laugh. The children didn't know why it made her +laugh, but they laughed with her. They always did, or with their father +when he laughed. And there was always lots of jolly laughter when their +father and mother came up to the nurseries. + +Those children, as they passed through early childhood, never saw their +parents but happy and good-spirited. They never saw them worried nor +ever saw them sad. That was, as one might say, Rosalie's chief offering +to her darlings. It was splendid to Rosalie that her way of life, far +from causing her (as prejudice would have prophesied) to neglect her +children, enabled her to consider them in their relations with herself +as, by their mothers, children in her childhood never were considered. +That they should associate nothing--nothing at all--but happiness with +her was the basis of it. Children, she held, ought not to see their +parents bad-tempered or distressed or in any way out of sorts or out of +control. For a child to do so has in two ways a bad effect on the child +mind. In the first place, it is harmful for children to come in contact +with the unpleasant things of life; in the second, parents should always +be to their children models of conduct and of disposition. They should +in themselves present ideals to their children. A man should be a hero +to his son; a woman an ideal to her daughter. Why is no man a hero to +his valet? It is simply because his valet sees him, as do not those +whose esteem he desires to win, in his off moments. Children should +never see their parents in their off moments. + +This principle was not Rosalie's alone. It is the modern principle. The +point, to Rosalie, was that, by her way of life, she was able to apply +it. Children were too much with their parents. That was the fault; +in her childhood the universal fault, even now the fault among the +unenlightened. Parents, being human, must have off moments; are not off +moments, indeed, in the total of the day, of greater sum than moments +of circumspection? It follows that if children are always with their +parents, the more unlovely side cannot fail to be perceived, and, +arising out of it, must follow injury by example, harm by environment, +smirching of idealism, loss of respect. In those homes where the mother +(in Rosalie's phrase) is the children's slave, why has the father the +children's greater respect? Why is it fine to do what father does? Why +jolly and exciting to be with father? It is only because the father +commonly is away all day, only seen by them when, shedding other +affairs, he comes to see them specially. + +Her life--oddly how well for everything and every one her attitude to +life fell out!--obtained for her and for them the same wise and happy +restriction from too free familiarity. She was able to come to her +children only when all her undivided attention and whole hearted love +could be given to them. They never saw her vexed, they never saw her +angry, they never saw her sad. It was not a commonplace to them to see +their mother. It was an event. A morning event and an evening event--and +unfailingly a completely happy event. She looked back upon her own +childhood with her own mother and reflected, fondly but clearly, +affectionately but not blinded by affection, how very different was +that. She was always with her mother. Her mother was often sad, often +worried, often, in distraction of her worries, irritable in speech. +Often sad! Why, she could remember time and again when her dear mother, +hunted by her cares, was broken down and crying. She would go to her +mother then and cry to see her crying, and her mother would put her arms +around her and hug her to her breast and declare she was her "little +comfort." Was it good for a child to suffer scenes like that? She used +to be with her mother all day long, from early morning till last thing +at night. With what result? That she saw and suffered with her, or +suffered of her, all that her mother suffered; that she was sometimes +desolated to feeling that her heart was broken for her mother. Could +that be good for a child? Her Huggo, her Doda and her Benji never saw +her anything but radiant; and because that was so (as she told herself) +she never saw them cry, either on her account or on their own. + +Therein--grief in her presence on their own account--another point +arose. With as her ideal that only happiness should be associated with +her, she found her way of life beneficial to the preservation of that +ideal in that it prevented her from being the vessel that should convey +the restrictions, the reproofs and the instruction that are troublesome +to small minds. All that was left to Miss Prescott. She remembered +lessons with her mother; she remembered the irksome learning of a +hundred "don'ts" from her mother; and though they were tender and +pathetic memories she remembered also the reverse of the picture,--being +glad to escape from her mother, resentful against her mother when stood +in the corner by her mother, when stopped doing this that and the other +by her mother, when made to learn terribly hard lessons by her mother +and to go on learning them till she had learnt them. Only childish +resentment, of course, swept up and forgotten as by the sun emerging out +of clouds the shadow from a landscape. But why should children ever have +the tiniest frown against their mother? There must be frowns, there +must be tears. Let others bear the passing grudge of those. Let Miss +Prescott. + +Miss Prescott was willing and able to bear anything like that. She +delighted in such. She told Rosalie, when Rosalie engaged her, and after +she had seen the children, that her only hesitation in accepting the +post was that the children were too normal. "By normal," said Miss +Prescott, speaking, as she always spoke, as if she were a passage out of +a book given utterance, "By normal, Mrs. Occleve, I do not, of course, +mean commonplace. Any one can see how attractive they are, how gifted; +any one can know how distinguished, with, if I may say so, such talented +parents, their inherited qualities must be. No, when I say normal, +I mean showing no disquieting signs, constitutionally tractable, not +refractory. In that sense of normality it is much more the abnormal +child to whom I would have liked to devote myself. I have specialised +in children. The harder the case the more I should be interested in it. +That's what I mean. But I never could have hoped to find a household +where, though there can be no difficulties, I should have such +opportunities of helping children to be perfect men and women; nor a +mother to whose children I would more gladly, proudly, devote myself; +nor a place with which I should feel myself so entirely in sympathy. +If you feel, on reflection, that I should suit you, it will be, I am +sure--why should I not say so--an auspicious day for those little ones." + +How happy was Rosalie thus by provision to destiny her darlings! + +Miss Prescott was thirty when engaged by Rosalie. She had a way of +looking at people which, if described, can best describe her appearance. +She was once in an omnibus in London and the conductor, standing against +her, and about to serve a ticket to a passenger seated next her, had +some trouble with his bell-punch. It would not work and he fumbled +with it, angry. Everybody in the bus watched him. It is not nice to be +watched when baffled and heated in bafflement but the only gaze to which +attention was given by the conductor was the gaze of Miss Prescott. +He glanced constantly from the obdurate machine to the face of Miss +Prescott. Suddenly he said: "'Ere, suppose you do it, then," and pushed +the bell-punch at her. Miss Prescott took it, did it, astoundingly and +instantaneously, and handed it back with no word. The conductor seemed +more angry than before. + +It was like that that Miss Prescott looked at people. + +There is right way of doing everything. Miss Prescott had an uncanny +instinct for finding it; and, applying this faculty to her training +of the child-mind, she presented herself as a notable exponent of the +system in which, as has been said, she was certificated and diplomaed. +She taught children how to play in the right way, how to learn in the +right way, and above all how, in every way and at every turn, to reason. +By the old, ignorant plan children were instructed, speaking broadly, +by love or by fear. It was by pure reason that Miss Prescott instructed +them. The child was treated as an earnest physician treats a case. Ill +temper or wrong behaviour in a child was neither vexing nor sad. It was +profoundly interesting. There was a right and scientific way to treat it +and that right and scientific way was thought out and administered. The +child was "a case." + +It was taught nothing but truths and facts. Its mind was not permitted +to be befogged with fairy stories, with superstitions, with Father +Christmases and the like, nor yet with religious half-truths and +misty fables. These entailed not only befogging at the time, but +disillusionment thereafter. Disillusionment was wicked for a child. +It further was taught nothing at all (in the matter of lessons) at the +grotesquely early age at which children used to be taught. It was taught +first to reason. + +In general the whole system lay in developing the child's reasoning +powers and then, at every turn and particularly at every manifestation +of indiscipline, appealing to its reason. "I am here to be happy"--that +was the first, and surely the kindest and easiest, knowledge to fix +in the child. From that foundation everything was worked. It never was +necessary to punish a child. It only was necessary to reason with it. In +the old phraseology a child meet to be punished was a naughty child. +In the terminology of Miss Prescott such a child was a sick child or an +unreasoning child: a case presenting an adverse symptom. But take the +older term,--a naughty child. A naughty child was an unhappy child. The +treatment went like this, "I am here to be happy. I am not happy. Why am +I not happy? Because I have done so and so and so and so...." + +Kind, wise, simple, effective, easy. Rosalie in her childish +misdemeanours would have been prevailed upon by the unhappiness her +conduct caused her mother. All wrong! A faulty process of reasoning; +indeed not a process of reasoning at all: a crude appeal to the +emotions. Those three children who on the one part never saw their +mother sad and were constrained to comfort her, on the other never +were bribed to good behaviour by the thought of grieving her. They +only associated happiness with her and they enjoyed happiness simply by +reasoning away unhappiness. + +Kind, wise, simple, effective, easy. + +Happy Huggo, happy Doda, happy Benji, happy Rosalie! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +It has been said of Time, earlier in these pages, the cloak-and-dagger +sort he is, that stalks and pounces. One seeks only to record him when +he thus assails, and there is this result; that it is necessary to +pare away so much. In instance, there's to be inserted now a note on +Rosalie's advance in her career. It's cut to nothing. This is because +all that career ultimately was known to her never to have really +mattered. And so with other things. That girl, all through, pressing so +strong ahead, rises to the eye not cumbered with other importance than +her own. There might be asked for (by a reader) presentation of Harry's +parents; of what was doing all this time to her own parents in the +rectory, to Harold, Robert, Flora, Hilda; of friends that Rosalie and +Harry had. That girl's passage is not traced in such. Whose is? The +chart where such are marked is just a common public print, stamped for +the public eye. They're not set down upon that secret chart all carry +in the cabin of their soul, and there, in that so hidden and inviolable +stateroom, poring over it by the uncertain swinging lamp of conscience, +prick out their way. + +Her installation in the bank had been a notable success. She dealt with +all the insurance advice and with income-tax advice and business; and +it was remarkable to her, at first, how many of Field's clients were as +children in the mysteries of income tax, and as children alike in their +ignorance of the possibilities of life insurance and in their pleasure +at the discoveries she set before them. But further than this (and more +important, said Mr. Sturgiss and Mr. Field) was the quick response +of the clients to the various domestic advice that it was Rosalie's +business to give. Husbands and wives from the East, or returned thither +from London and writing from the East, consulted her on innumerable +matters. When, in instance, an army officer wrote to her from India, +very diffidently wondering if she could help him in the matter of some +Christmas presents for his wife and children at home, Mr. Sturgiss was +uncommonly pleased. + +"I knew it!" said Mr. Sturgiss. "That's the kind of thing. You watch how +side-lines like that will develop. That's what these people want--some +one at home they can rely on. I tell you, Mrs. Occleve, you, that is +to say your department of Field's, is what the Anglo-Eastern has been +wanting ever since Clive and Warren Hastings went out--a link with home. +You see." + +She did see. Mr. Field saw. The clients saw. The friends of the clients +saw--and became clients. + +All of her position reposed, and was developed by her, on the cruel +disabilities of those who earn their bread in the East. For all such, +married, comes, in time, the sad and the costly business of the divided +home,--the two establishments, the sundering of children and parents, of +husband and wife. By the age of seven at latest, the children have to +be sent home for health and education. Then the sundering, the losing of +touch, the compulsion upon the man, that those at home may be promptly +supported, to deny himself year after year the longed-for visit home. +The losing of touch.... Invaluable to them to have in Field's, in +"that Mrs. Occleve" a link, known personally or by reputation, that was +useable as relations (capricious, "touchy," interfering) often are not +useable; and dependable as relations, unpractical, certainly are not +always dependable. Invaluable to the clients; declared by Mr. Field and +by Mr. Sturgiss to be invaluable to the bank; absorbing and splendid to +Rosalie. "And still," Mr. Sturgiss was always saying, "still capable of +much bigger development." + +He sketched one day a development that would be a stride indeed. +It began to be discussed by the three. It connoted so absolute a +recognition of Rosalie's worth that she decided--lest it should fall +through--she would not mention it to Harry till either it was fallen +through or was afoot. Then! + +It made her busy. She told Harry once, when they'd been talking of +how much at office she was kept, of her work, and of the place she was +making for herself, "Well, it's not bad, Harry," she told him. "It's +not bad. I'll admit that. What pleases me is that it's only a beginning; +well as it's going, and long as I've now been at it, only a beginning. +I can't, as I've often said to you, be doing all this without getting a +long insight into the actual banking business. Oh, don't you remember +my telling you about that appalling evening when I told poor Uncle Pyke +that I wanted to be a banker? How outraged he was! Poor person, how +rightly outraged! The ridiculous notion that I ever could be a banker! A +grotesque dream!" She gave a small laugh as if tenderly smiling at image +before her of that innocent, eager girl at the Pyke Pounce table. She +said softly, "A grotesque dream. Now, with patent limitations--not a +dream." + +It was like that that Time (disguised as triumph) kept out of the way; +and similarly disguised, showed no sign either on the children's side. +All splendid there! Growing up! Huggo set to school! + +Huggo learnt with Miss Prescott till he was nine, then attended daily a +first-rate school for little boys in Kensington, at eleven started as a +boarder at a preparatory school for Tidborough. Next he was to go to +the great public school itself, afterwards to Oxford and the Bar. All's +well! Time had nothing at all to say during the first two stages of the +programme. It was in Huggo's first holidays from the preparatory school +that Time whipped out his blade and pounced. + +On a day that was a week before the end of that holidays the great new +scheme for Rosalie at Field's rose to its feet and walked. It was a +special mission on behalf of the bank. + +It necessitated.. . . + +She came once or twice to a bit of a stop like that while waiting their +evening talk together in which she should tell Harry. It necessitated +a departure from the established order of things; but what of that? Was +not the way bill of her life all departures from things established, +and all successful, and were not all contingencies of this particular +departure fully insured against? She very easily cantered on, on this +rein. That bit of a stop was scarcely a check in the progression of her +thoughts. + +Seated with Harry in Harry's room that night she was about to tell +him her great news when, "I'd an unusual offer made to me today," said +Harry. + +Almost the very words herself had been about to use! + +"Why so had I to me!" she cried. + +They both laughed. "Tell on," said Harry. + +"No, you. Yours first." + +"Toss you," cried Harry; and spun a coin and lost and went ahead: "Well, +mine doesn't exactly shake the foundations of the world with excitement +because I refused it. It was to go out to defend in a big murder case in +Singapore!" + +She exclaimed, "In Singapore!" + +"Yes, Singapore. Why do you say it like that?" + +She did not answer. + +The prisoner, Harry went on, was a wealthy trader, immensely wealthy, +and immensely detested, it appeared, by the European settlement; had +native blood in his veins; was charged with poisoning an Englishman +with whose wife he was supposed to have been carrying on an amour. "A +wretched, unsavoury business," said Harry, and went on to say that, +though the fee offered was extraordinarily handsome, he had declined the +proposal. It was doubtful he would actually make more money over it than +in his normal round at home, more than that it went against the grain to +be defending a man of native origins who had pretty obviously seduced a +white woman if not murdered her husband. "No, no ticket to Singapore for +me, thanks," said Harry. + +Rosalie turned to him with a sudden, direct interest. "Harry, suppose +you had accepted, how long would you have been away?" + +"Not less than six months in all. Certainly not less. That's another +point against--" + +"Yes, against the idea, because in any case you don't want to go. But +suppose the circumstances had been different; suppose it was a case that +for various reasons very much attracted you; would you have gone?" + +Harry said indifferently, "Oh, no doubt, no doubt." + +"Although it would have taken you from home six months--or more? You'd +not have minded that?" + +He laughed delightedly. "Ah, ha! I was beginning to wonder what you were +driving at. You're a regular lawyer, Rosalie; you led me on and then +caught me out properly." + +His amusement was not reflected by her. She said with a certain +insistence, "But you wouldn't have minded?" + +He laughed again. "The judge ruled that the question was admissible and +must be answered. Well, minded--I'd have minded, of course, very much +in a way. I'm a home bird. I'd have hated being away the best part of a +year. But there you are. If the call was strong enough, there you are; +it would have been business." + +She indrew a long breath. "That's it. It would have been business." + +There was then a pause. + +Harry, who had been talking lightly, then said slowly, "Rosalie, is +there something behind this?" + +She turned towards him with a very nice smile. "Harry, I've been doing a +very shocking thing. I've been making you commit yourself." + +"Commit myself?" + +She nodded. "Been taking down your statement without warning you that it +may be used in evidence against you." + +He said gravely, "Somehow I don't like this." + +She told him, "Ah, stupid me! I'm making a small thing seem big. Listen, +Harry. It was curious to me this about you and Singapore--" + +"Yes, I noticed that. Why?" + +"Because there's an idea of my going out to Singapore." + +He was astounded. She might have said to Mars. "You? To Singapore?" + +"To the East generally. To Bombay, to Rangoon, to Singapore. For about a +year." + +He was all aback. "For about a year? Rosalie, I can't--Why on earth--?" + +She did not like this. The great scheme! Her special mission! It +necessitated.... Here was the necessity at which she had checked +but confidently ridden on, and Harry was pulled right up by it. His +astonishment was not comfortable to her. Was there to be a check then? +He said again, "You? A year? But, Rosalie, what on earth--" + +She pronounced a single word, his own word: + +"Business." + +He was standing before her on the hearthrug. He made a turn and at once +turned back. "Are you thinking of this seriously?" + +"Most seriously." + +"Of going?" + +"Of going. It's business." + +"For a year?" + +"Harry, yes." + +He began to fill his pipe with very slow movements of his fingers, his +eyes bent down upon her. "And you called this--just now--a small thing?" + +She said with a sudden eagerness, "Harry, it's a very big thing for me, +for Field's. I meant a small thing in the sense not to be made a fuss +about." + +He made very slowly a negative movement with his head. "I don't see it +like that." + +"Let me tell you, Harry." + +She told him how the great possibilities of the department she had +established in the bank rested on the personal touch established between +herself and the clients. The scheme was that those possibilities should +be developed to their fullest extent. While she was in London that +personal touch could be established with clients by dozens. If she +visited the branches in the East, at Bombay, at Rangoon, at Singapore, +it was by hundreds that the touch could be established. That was it. +Field's customers would talk to her, and when she was returned they +would talk of her, and would tell others of her, as one met, not during +the jolly freedom of leave when the impulse was to feel that, after all, +nothing mattered much, but met out there when they were in the yoke +and the harness of the thing,--met as one fresh out from home in their +particular interests and shortly, charged with their special interests, +returning home. That was it! A novel mission, a valuable mission, her +mission. About a year. To start in about six weeks. "There, Harry, +that's the plan." + +"And you are going?" + +"I have agreed to go." + +He said slowly, "It astonishes me." + +There was then a pause. + +She spoke. "I think I do not like your astonishment, Harry." + +"It is justified." + +"No, no; not justified. When you told me of a possibility of Singapore +for you I was not astonished. I made no difficulty." + +"Different," he said. "Different." + +"Not different, Harry. The same. How different? If you could go, I can +go. The same. Aren't things with us always the same?" + +He shook his head. "Not this. If I had to go--" + +"Yes, yes. It's the point. If you had to go you'd have to go. Well, I +have to go." + +"Rosalie, if I had to go I could go. A man can." + +She cried, "But, Harry, that--This isn't us talking at all. You mean a +man can leave his home because his home can go on without him. But our +home--it's just the same for me in our home. We've made it like that. +It runs itself. The kitchen--I don't know when I last gave an order. +The children--there's never a word. The thing's organised. I'm an +organiser." She laughed, "Dear, that's why they're sending me. Isn't it +organised?" + +He assented, but with an inflexion on the word "It's--organised." + +She did not attend the inflexion. "Well, that's no organisation that +can't, in necessity, run by itself. This can. You know, quite well, this +will. You know, quite well, that you will not be put about a jot." + +"Oh, I know that," he said. + +"Well, then. Astonished--why astonished?" + +He looked at her. "Let's call it," he said, "the principle of the +thing." + +Oh, now astonishment between them. Her voice, astounded, had an echo's +sound--faint, faint, scarcely to be heard, gone. "The prin-ci-ple!" + +This room was lit, then, only by a standard lamp remote from where they +were beside the fire. She was in a deep armchair; its partner, Harry's +chair, close by. He sat himself on the arm, looking towards her. The +firelight made shadows on his face. + +She presently murmured, her voice as though that echo, lost, was +murmuring back, "Oh, it is I that am astonished now. The principle! +It's like a ghost. Harry, how possibly can there come between us the +principle?" + +His voice was deep, "Are we afraid of it, old girl?" + +She put out a hand and touched him and he touched her hand. They were +such lovers still. That was the thing about it. There never had been +an issue between them, not the smallest; the bloom of their first union +never had dissipated, not a rub. But there was in Harry the intention +now to take her, and there was in her the apprehension now of being +taken, to a new dimension of conversation, not previously trod by them. +As they proceeded it was seen not to be light in this place; a place +where touch might be lost. + +She said, "But to bring up the principle in this! It can't be possible +you've changed. It isn't conceivable to me that you have changed. Then +how the principle?" + +"It is the situation that has changed, Rosalie. It never occurred to me; +I never dreamt or imagined that a thing like this could arise." + +She moved in her chair. "Oh, this goes deep...." + +He put a hand on her shoulder. "We're not afraid." + +"But I'm so strong in this. So always certain. In our dear years +together so utterly assured. Nothing within the principle could touch +me. I am steel everywhere upon the principle. I might hurt you, Harry." + +"I'll not be hurt." + +"Well, say it, Harry." + +He was silent a moment. "There isn't really very much to say. To me it's +so clear." + +She murmured, "And to me." + +He said, "We've made this home--eleven years. It's been ideal. You have +combined your work with your--what shall I call it?--with your domestic +arrangements--your business with your domesticity--You've done it +wonderfully. We've never had to discuss the subject since we agreed upon +it." + +She murmured, "That is why--agreed." + +"Agreed in general. But when you take the home as between a man and a +woman, there are bound to be responsibilities which, however much you +share, cannot be divided. The woman's are the--the domesticity." + +"What are the man's?" + +"To maintain the home." + +"I share in that." + +"Well, grant you do. I do not claim to share the other." + +"You are not asked to, Harry." + +"No, but, Rosalie, I've the right to ask you to provide the other." + +Her murmur said, "Oh, do not let us bring up rights. I am so fixed on +rights." + +"Rosalie, let's keep the thing square. A man can leave his home; he +often has to. I think not so a woman; not a mother; not as you wish now +to leave it. It can't, without her, go on--not in the same way." + +"Yes, ours. Ours can." + +"Not in the same way. You can't take out the woman and leave it the +same,--the same for the man, the same for the children. We're married. +The married state. With children. Doesn't the whole fabric of the +married state rest on the domesticity of woman?" + +She murmured, "No, on her resignation, Harry." + +As if he had touched something and been burnt he very sharply drew in +his breath. + +She said, "Ah, you'd be hurt, I told you. Dear, I can't be other than I +am on this. Upon her resignation, Harry. Men call it domesticity. That's +their fair word for their offence. It's woman's resignation is the +fabric of the married state. She lets her home be built upon her back. +She resigns everything to carry it. She has to. If she moves it shakes. +If she stands upright it crashes. Dear, not ours. I've stood upright all +the time. I've proved the fallacy. A woman can stand upright and yet +be wife, be mother, make home. Dear, you are not to ask me now--for +resignation." + +Therein, and through all the passage of this place where the footway +was uneven, the light not good, the quality of her voice was low and +noteless, sometimes difficult to hear. There is to say it was by that +the more assured, as is more purposeful in its suggestion the tide that +enters, not upon the gale, but in the calm and steady flow of its own +strength. + +The quality of Harry's voice was very deep and sometimes halting, as +though it were out of much difficulty that he spoke. He said, deeply, +"That you stand upright does not discharge you from responsibilities." + +She said, "Dear, nor my responsibilities discharge me from my +privileges." + +There was then a silence. + +He spoke, "But I am going to press this, Rosalie. I say, with all +admitted, this thing--this 'I could go but you should not go'--is +different as between us. I am a man." + +She made a movement in her chair. "Ah, let that go. I have a reply to +that." + +"What reply?" + +"I am a woman." + +He began--"It's nothing--." + +She said, "Oh, painful to give you pain. To me--everything." + +He got up from his position beside her and went to his chair and seated +himself. He sat on the edge of the chair, bowed forward, his forearms on +his knees, his hands clasped; not smoking; his pipe between his fingers, +his eyes upon the fire. Once or twice, his hands close to his face, he +slightly raised them and with his pipe-stem softly tapped his teeth. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +He had called it the principle. She watched him. That attitude in which +he sat was of a profundity of meditation not to be looked upon without +that sense of awe, of oppression, of misgiving that is aroused by the +suggestion in man or nature of brooding forces mysteriously engrossed. +There came to her, watching him, a thought that newly disturbed her +thoughts. He had called it the principle. She had been astonished but +she had not been perturbed. Upon the principle as between man and woman, +husband and wife, she was, as she had said, so strong, so confident, +accustomed and assured, that there was nothing could be said could touch +her there. But it was not the principle. This was the knowledge brought +to her by the new thought suddenly appeared in her mind, standing there +like a strange face in a council of friends, unbidden and of a suspect +look. What if she communicated that knowledge to Harry brooding there? +He had called it the principle. What if she put across the shadowed room +the sentence that should inform him it was not the principle but was an +issue flying the flag of ships whose freights are dangerous? What if she +put across the shadowed room the sentence, "Men that marry for a home"? + +Ay, that was it! The thing she had always known and never told. +Those are keepsakes of our secret selves, those observations, vows, +conspiracies with which romantically we plot towards our ideals. This +the sole keepsake of her treasury she never had revealed to Harry. +Significant she had not. Some instinct must have stayed her. Yes, +significant! He had called it the principle. It was not the principle. +He was sincere upon the principle and in the examination of eleven years +had proved his sincerity. It was not the principle. It was that herein, +in her intention to exercise her freedom in a new dimension, she had +touched him, not through the principle, but upon the instinct that led +him, as she believed men to be led, to marry for a home, a settling-in +place, a settling-down place, a cave to enter into and to shut the door +upon. + +Oh, this was dangerous! There were no lengths to which this might not +lead! If at her first essay at that which countered his idea of home she +was to be asked to pause, what, in the increasing convolutions of the +years, might not she be asked to abandon? Let him attempt restriction of +her by appeal to principle and she could stand, and win, unscathed. Let +him oppose her by his wish within his home to shut the door, and that +was to put upon her an injury that only by giving him pain could be +fought. Oh, dangerous! Not less an injury because by sentiment and not +by reason done! Much more an injury because so subtly done! Much more! +Dangerous! Ah, from this the outset to be withstood! + +He spoke and his first words were confirmation of her fears. + +"Rosalie, do you feel quite all right about the children?" + +Yes, she could see where this was set to lead. He could leave her with +the children; but she--men that married for a home--could not leave him +with the children. + +She said gently, "Dear, there'll not be the least difficulty. +Everything's perfectly arranged. Everything will perfectly well go on." + +He had not moved his pose and did not move it. His voice presented in +tone the profound meditation that his pose presented. He said, "I don't +quite mean that. I mean, do you always feel everything's quite all right +with them?" + +How setting now? She answered, "Dear, of course I do." + +His eyes remained upon the fire. "Rosalie, d'you know I sometimes +don't." + +Her motion--a lifting of her face, a questing of her brows--was of a +helmsman's gesture, suspicious to catch before it set a shifting of the +breeze. "Harry, in what way? They're splendid." + +"You feel that?" + +"Dear, you know they are." + +He put his pipe to his mouth and with that meditative tapping tapped his +teeth. "Splendid, yes, in health, in appearance, in development, in all +that kind of thing. I don't mean that." He turned his face towards her +and spoke directly. "Rosalie, have you ever thought they're not quite +like other children?" + +Oh, setting from what quarter this? She said, "They're better--miles and +miles." + +He got up. "Well, that's all right. If you have noticed nothing, that's +all right." + +"But, Harry. I am at a loss, dear. Of course it's all right. But what +have you noticed, think you've noticed?" + +He was standing before her, his back against the mantelpiece, looking +down at her. "Just that--not quite like other children." + +"But in what way?" + +"It's hard to say, old girl. If you've not noticed it, harder still. +Not quite so childish as at their age I seem to remember myself with +my brothers and sisters being childish. A kind of--reserve. A kind +of--self-contained." + +She shook her head, "No, no." + +"You think it's fancy?" + +"I'm sure it is." + +He was silent a moment. "It's rather worried me. And of course now--If +you are going to be away--" + +Stand by! She had the drift of this! + +She said simply, "Harry, this can't be." + +"You can't give up the idea?" + +Her hand upon the helm that steered her life constricted. "It is not to +be asked of me to give it up." She paused. She said softly, "Dear, this +is a forward step for me. You are asking me to make a sacrifice. I would +not ask you." + +He began, "There are sacrifices--" + +"They are not asked of men." + +He said, "Rosalie, you said once, when Benji was born, that, if at any +time need be, you would give up, not a thing like this, but your work +entirely." + +As if to shield or to support her heart she drew her left hand to it. +"Would you give up yours, Harry?" + +He said quickly, "I'm not suggesting such a thing. It is ridiculous. I'm +only showing you--" + +She began to say her say, her voice reflective as his own had been. "But +you have shown me frightful things, shown me how far and oh, how quick, +a thing that starts may go. Oh, my dear, know the answer before it ever +is suggested. Sacrifices! It is sacrifice for the children that you +profess to mean. Well, let us call it that. Have you ever heard of a +father sacrificing himself for his children? There's no such phrase. +There's only the feminine gender for that. 'Sacrificed himself for his +wife and children.' It's a solecism. If grammar means good sense, +it isn't grammar because it's meaningless. It can't be said. +It's grotesque. But 'Sacrificed herself for her husband and her +children,'--why, that the commonest of cliches. It's written on half the +mothers' brows; it should be carved on half the mothers' tombs--upon my +own dear mother's." She stood up and faced him. "Harry, not on mine." +She put a gentle hand on his. "I love you--you know what our love is. I +love the children--with a truer love that they have never been a burden +to me nor I on a single occasion out of mood with them. But, Harry, I +will not sacrifice myself for the children. When I ask that of you, ask +it of me. But I never will ask it of you." + +She was trembling. + +He put an arm about her shoulders. "It's over. It's over. Let's forget +it, Rosalie." + +Of course she did not forget it. Of course she knew that Harry could +not. Men that marry for a home! Already in his mind the thought that +for his home she should give up, not only this present forward step, +but--everything! Oh, man-made world! Oh, man-made men! "It's over. It's +over," he had said. Of course she knew it was not over. Men that marry +for a home! Secret she had kept it and in the same moment that she had +realised the significance of her secrecy it had been enlarged. Now it +stalked abroad. + +But what is to be observed is the quality of the love between them. It +was through the children that he had made this claim that he had sought +to impose upon her. She had told him, as she believed, that what he +thought he saw was fancy. It never occurred to her to imagine so base +a thing as that he, to give himself grounds, had invented or even +exaggerated his fancy; but it had been excusable in her (threatened as +she saw herself) to avoid, in the days that followed, discussion of that +fancy, much less herself to bring it forward. Her love for Harry was +never in that plane. It could admit no guile. It happened that within +the week she was herself a little pained by a matter with the children. +She took her pain straight to her Harry. + +On his last day of the holidays before he returned for his second term +at his preparatory school, Huggo was noisy with excitement at the idea +of returning. It rather pained Rosalie that he showed not the smallest +sign of regret at leaving home. Miss Prescott had done all the necessary +business of getting his clothes ready for school, but Rosalie took from +Field's this last afternoon to do some shopping with her little man (as +she termed it) in Oxford Street; to buy him some little personal things +he wanted,--a purse of pigskin that fastened with a button, a knife with +a thing for taking stones out of horses' hoofs, and a special kind of +football boots. Since there had come to her the "men that marry for +a home" significance, that mirage in her face had much presented that +mutinous and determined boy it often showed. Only the mother was there +when she set out with Huggo. And then the sense of pain. + +Oxford Street appeared to be swarming with small boys and their mothers +similarly engaged. All the small boys wore blue overcoats with velvet +collar and looked to Rosalie most lovably comic in bowler hats that +seemed enormously too big for their small heads. Huggo was dressed to +the same pattern but his hat exactly suited his face which was thin and, +by contrast with these others, old for his years. Rosalie wished somehow +that Huggo's hat didn't suit so well; the imminent extinguisher look of +theirs made them look such darling babies. And what really brought out +the difference was that all these other small boys invariably had a hand +stretched up to hold their mothers' arms and walked with faces turned +up, chattering. Huggo didn't. She asked him to. He said, "Mother, why?" + +"I'd love you to, darling." + +He put up his hand and she pressed it with her arm to her side, but she +noticed that he was looking away into a shop window while he did as he +was asked, and there came in less than a dozen paces a congestion on the +pavement that caused him to slip behind her, removing his hand. He did +not replace it. + +In the shop where the knife was to be bought an immense tray of every +variety of pocketknife was put before them. Huggo opened and shut blades +with a curiously impatient air as though afraid of being interfered with +before he had made his choice. Immediately beside Rosalie was another +mother engaged with another son upon another tray. + +"It's got to have a thing for levering stones out of horses' hoofs," +said Huggo, brushing aside a knife offered by the assistant and +rummaging a little roughly. + +Rosalie said, "Darling, I can't think what you can want such a thing +for." + +The lady beside her caught her eye and laughed. "That's just what I'm +asking my small man," she said. + +Her small man, whose face was merry and whose hat appeared to be +supported by his ears, looked up at Rosalie with an engaging smile and +said in a very frank voice, "It's jolly useful for lugging up tight +things or to hook up toffee that's stuck." + +They all three laughed. Huggo, busily engaged, took no notice. + +He found the knife he wanted. Rosalie showed him another. "Huggo, I'm +sure that one's too heavy and clumsy." + +The voice of the little boy with the hat on his ears came, "Mummie, I'd +rather have this one because you chose it." + +Rosalie said to Huggo, "It will weigh down your pocket so." + +"This one! This one!" cried Huggo and made a vexed movement with a foot. + +Rosalie, sitting with Harry before the fire in Harry's room that night +said, "Harry, tell me some more of what you said the other day about the +children." + +He looked up at her. He clearly was surprised. "You've been thinking +about it?" + +"I've been with Huggo shopping for him this afternoon and been at little +things a little sad. Harry, when you said 'not like other children' did +you mean not--responsive?" + +He said intensely, "Rosalie, it is the word. It's what I meant. I +couldn't get it. I wonder I didn't. It's my meaning exactly--not +responsive. You've noticed it?" + +"Oh, tell me first." + +"Rosalie, it's sometimes that I've gone in to the three of them wanting +to be one with them, to be a child with them and invent things and +imagine things. Somehow they don't seem to want it. They don't--invite +it. Your word, they don't--respond. I want them to open their hearts and +let me right inside. Somehow they don't seem to open their hearts." + +She said, "Harry, they're such mites." + +He shook his head. "They're not mites, old girl. Only Benji. And even +Benji--It was different when they were wee things. It's lately, all +this. They don't seem to understand, Rosalie--to understand what it is I +want. That's the thing that troubles me. It's an extraordinary thing +to say, but it's been to me sometimes as if I were the child longing +to be--what shall I say?--to have arms opened to me, and they were the +grown-ups, holding me off, not understanding what it is I want. Not +understanding. Rosalie, why don't they understand?" + +She had a hand extended to the fire and she was slowly opening and +shutting her fingers at the flames. This, coming upon the feeling she +had had that afternoon with Huggo, was like a book wherein was analysed +that feeling. But, "I am sure they do understand, dear," she said. "I'm +sure it's fancy." + +"I think you're not sure, Rosalie." + +"Oh, yes, I am. If it's anything it's just perhaps their way--all +children have their ways. What I thought about Huggo this afternoon +might perhaps be something what you mean. Harry, if it is, it's just the +little man's way." + +"What was it you thought?" + +She maintained that movement of the fingers of her hand. "Why, only +things I noticed; tiny things; nothings, I'm sure. Out shopping with me, +Harry. Well, it was his last day and I would have expected somehow he +would have been fonder for that. He wasn't and I rather felt it. Things +like that. I would so like him to have held my arm. He didn't want to. +Not very grateful for the things we bought. But there, why should he be, +dear Huggo? But just his way; that's what one ought to think. But I felt +it a little." + +Harry said, "I know. I know. It's that that I have felt--not responsive. +It's what I've thought I've noticed in them all." + +Telling him perhaps enlarged, as telling does, her sensibilities. She +said very quickly, "Not Benji!" + +"Well, Benji's so very young. But even--But in the other two--" + +She said as quickly as before, "Ah, Doda's responsive!" + +"You've seen it, dear, in Huggo." + +"Oh, Harry, nothing, just his way. I'm sorry now I mentioned it." + +He had been watching the flexion of her hand. He said, "I'm glad you +have. When I spoke of it the other day you said you didn't see it. I +think it's generous in you to admit you have." + +She murmured, "Generous?" + +"It brings up--Rosalie, does this affect a little, alter perhaps, your +decision?" + +She shut her fingers sharply. "No." She kept them shut. "There's nothing +at all could alter that, Harry." + +He turned aside and began to fill his pipe, with slow movements. + +It has been warned that it was in this holidays of Huggo's from his +preparatory school that Time, that bravo of the cloak-and-dagger school, +whipped out his-blade and pounced. These, since that warning, were but +the doorways and the lurking posts he prowled along. + +He now was very close to Rosalie. + +Rosalie and Harry both were home to lunch next day. In the afternoon +they were to take Huggo to Charing Cross to see him off in the saloon +specially reserved for his school. All the children were at lunch for +this occasion. Benji in a high chair just like the high chair that had +been Rosalie's years back--what years and years!--at the rectory. Huggo +was in boisterous spirits. You would think, you couldn't help thinking, +it was his first day, not his last day home. Rosalie observed him as +she had not before observed him. How he talked! Well, that was good. How +could Harry have thought him reserved? But he talked a shade loudly and +with an air curiously self-opinionated. But he was such a child, and +opinions were delightful in a child. Yes, but something not childish +in his way of expressing his opinions, something a shade superior, +self-satisfied; and she particularly noticed that when anything in +the way of information was given him by Harry or by herself he never +accepted it but always argued. She grew very silent. She felt she would +have given anything to hear him, in the long topic of railways with his +father, and then of Tidborough School, say, "Do they, father?" or, "Does +it, father?" He never did. He always knew it before or knew different. +Once on a subject connected with the famous school Harry said, a shade +of rebuke in his voice, "My dear old chap, I was at Tidborough. I ought +to know." Rosalie felt she would have given anything in the world for +Huggo to reply, "Sorry, father, of course you ought." Instead he bent +upon his plate a look injured and resentful at being injured. But in a +minute she was reproaching herself for such ideas. Her Huggo! and she +was sitting here criticising him. Different from other children! Why, if +so, only in the way she had affirmed to Harry--miles and miles better. +Opinionated? Why, famously advanced for his years. Superior? Why, +bright, clever, not a nursery boy. She had been wronging him, she had +been criticising him, she had been looking for faults in him, her Huggo! +Unkind! Unnatural! + +Listen to him! The meal was ended. His father was bantering him about +what he learnt, or didn't learn, at school; was offering him an extra +five shillings to his school tip if he could answer three questions. +The darling was deliciously excited over it. How his voice rang! He was +putting his father off the various subjects suggested. Not Latin--he +hadn't done much Latin; not geography--he simply hated geography. Listen +to him! + +"Well, scripture," Harry was saying. "Come, they give you plenty of +scripture?" + +"Oh, don't they just! Tons and tons!" Listen to him! How merry he +was now! "Tons and tons. First lesson every morning. But don't ask +scripture, father. Father, what's the use of learning all that stuff, +about the Flood, about the Ark, about the Israelites, about Samuel, +about Daniel, about crossing the Red Sea, about all that stuff: what's +the use?" + +Time closed his fingers on his haft and took a stride to Rosalie. + +She sat upright. She stared across the table at the boy. + +Harry said, "Here, steady, old man. 'What's the use of Scripture?'" + +"Well, what is the use? It's all rot. You know it isn't true." + +Time flashed his blade and struck her terribly. + +She called out dreadfully, "Huggo!" + +"Mother, you know it's all made up!" + +She cried out in a girl's voice and with a girl's impulsive gesture of +her arm across the table towards him, "It isn't! It isn't!" + +Her voice, her gesture, the look upon her face could not but startle +him. He was red, rather frightened. He said mumblingly, "Well, mother, +you've never taught me any different." + +She was seen by Harry to let fall her extended arm upon the table and +draw it very slowly to her and draw her hand then to her heart and +slowly lean herself against her chair-back, staring at Huggo. No one +spoke. She then said to Huggo, her voice very low, "Darling, run now to +see everything is in your playbox. Doda, help him. Take Benji, darlings. +Benji, go and see the lovely playbox things." + +When they had gone she was seen by Harry to be working with her fingers +at her key-ring. In one hand she held the ring, in the other a key that +she seemed to be trying to remove. It was obstinate. She wrestled at it. +She looked up at Harry. "I want to get this"--the key came away in her +hand--"off." + +He recognised it for her office pass-key. + +Caused by that cry of hers to Huggo and by that ges-ture with her cry, +and since intensifying, there had been a constraint that he was very +glad to break. He remembered how childishly proud she had been of that +key on the day it was cut for her. They had had a little dinner to +celebrate it, and she had dipped it in her champagne glass. + +He said, "Your pass-key? Why?" + +She said, "I'm coming home, Harry." + +"Coming home?" + +She was sitting back in her chair. She tossed, with a negligent movement +of her hand, the key upon the table. "I have done with all that. I am +coming home." + +He got up very quickly and came around the table to her. + + + + +PART FOUR--HOUSE OF CARDS + +CHAPTER I + + +There is a state wherein the mind, normally the court of pleas where +reason receives and administers the supplications of the senses, is +not in session. Reason is sick, suspends his office, abrogates his +authority, withdraws to some deep fastness of the brain, and suffers the +hall of judgment to be the house of license or of dreams: of dreams, as +sleep, as vanity of reverie; of license when there is tumult in the body +politic, as fever, as excesses of the passions, as great shock. Reason +is sick, withdraws, and there is strange business in that place. + +If that is just the way one writes, not susceptible of easy +comprehension, and not enough explanatory of Rosalie's condition, it +goes like this in Rosalie's own words. Drooped back there in her chair +before that littered disarray of lunch, and that key lying there, and +Harry stooping over her and holding both her hands, she said, "Oh, +Harry! Oh, Harry! I feel deathly sick." + +She said it had been a most frightful shock to her, what Huggo had +declared. She said, "Oh, Harry, I feel all undone." + +Undone! We'll try to feel her mind with that; to let that explain her +when she said this else, and when she wrote some things that shall be +given. + +She said she had suffered, in that moment of crying out to Huggo and +of stretching out her arm to him, the most extraordinary--what was the +word?--the most extraordinary hallucination. "Harry, when Huggo said +that frightful thing! Oh, Harry, like an extraordinary dream, I was a +child again. It wasn't here; it was happening; it was the rectory; and +not you and the children but all us children that used to be around the +table there. No, not quite that. More extraordinary than that. Robert +was there; Robert, I think, in Huggo's place; and all the rest were +me--me as I used to be when I was ten; small, grave, wondering, staring. +And yet myself me too as I was then--oh, horrified as I'd have then been +horrified to hear the Bible stories called untrue; jumped up and crying +out, 'It isn't! It isn't!' as I would then have jumped up and cried out; +and all the other Rosalies staring in wonder as I'd have stared. Oh, +extraordinary, extraordinary! Within this minute, I have been a child +again. The strangest thing, the strangest thing! + +"I was a child again, Harry, in a blue frock I used to wear and in a +pinafore that had a hole in it; and all those other Rosalies the same. +Those other Rosalies! To see them! Harry, I've not seen that Rosalie +I used to be--not years and years. That tiny innocent! It is upon me +still. I feel that small child still. Oh, I feel it! I remember--dear, +did I ever tell you?--when my father once... had been talking about +Cambridge... and suddenly cried out, it was at breakfast, 'Cambridge! My +youth! My God, my God, my youth!' There was coffee from a cup that he'd +knocked over came oozing, and I just sat there huge-eyed, staring, a +small, grave wondering child.... + +"Oh, Harry, my youth, my childhood--and now the children's! The +difference! The difference!" + +Harry talked to her. He ended, "The teaching, all the ideas, dear girl, +you mustn't worry, it's all different nowadays." + +"Harry, to hear it from a child like that!" + +"It's startled you. It needn't. We'll talk it out. We'll fix it. It's +just what he's been taught, old girl." + +She said, "Oh, it is what he's not been taught!" + +Then there were things that, while was still upon her this shock, this +sense of being again the small, grave child in the blue frock and in +the pinafore with the hole in it, she wrote down. She dismissed Miss +Prescott. She thought, when the interview of dismissal opened, that she +would end by upbraiding Miss Prescott, but she was abated all the time +in any anger that she might have felt by Huggo's other frightful words, +"Well, mother, you never taught me any different." She did not want to +hear Miss Prescott tell her that. She told Miss Prescott simply that +she was giving up her business and coming now to devote herself to the +children. She thought, she said, their education had in some respects +been faulty, and told Miss Prescott how. Miss Prescott, speaking like +a book, told her it had not been faulty and told her why. "Truth, +knowledge, reason," said Miss Prescott. "Could it conceivably be +contested that these should not be the sole food and the guiding +principle of the child mind?" + +It was after that interview that Rosalie, sitting long into the night, +wrote down some things. She is to be imagined as wrenched back, as by a +violent hand, across the years, and in the blue frock and the pinafore +with a hole in it again, and awfully frightened, terribly unhappy, at +the thing she'd heard from Huggo. That was the form her shock took. +Beneath it she had at a blow abandoned all her ambitions as when a child +she would instantly have dropped her most immersing game and run to a +frightening cry from her mother; as once, in fact (and the incident and +the parallel came back to her), she had been building a house of cards, +holding her breath not to shake it, and her mother had scalded her hand +and had cried out to her, frighteningly. "Oh, mummie, mummie!" she had +cried, running to her; and flap! the house of cards had gone. Her inward +cry was now, "The children! The children!" and what amiss the leaving of +her work? Her work! Oh, house of cards! + +Her state of mind, the imaginings in which that shock came to her, is +better seen by what she wrote down privately, to relieve herself, +than by the talk about it all that she had with her Harry. She wrote +immediately after Miss Prescott had stood up for "truth, knowledge, +reason," and by combating truth, knowledge, and reason more clearly +expressed herself than in her talk with Harry. It was in her diary she +wrote--well, it wasn't exactly a diary, it was a desultory journal +in which sometimes she wrote things. As she wrote, her brow, in the +intensity of her thought, was all puckered up. She still felt "deathly +sick; all undone." She wrote: + +"Of course it's as she says (Miss Prescott). That is the kind of thing +to-day. Knowledge, stark truth--children must have in stark truth all +the knowledge there is on all the things that come about them. It's +strange; yes, it is strange. No parent would be such a fool as to trust +a child with all the money she has nor with anything superlatively +precious that she possesses; but knowledge, which is above all wealth +and above all treasure, the child is to have to play with as it likes. +Oh, it is strange. Where is it going to stop? If you bring up a child on +the fact that all the Old Testament stories are untrue, a bundle, where +they are miraculous, of obviously impossible fairy tales, what's +going to happen to the New Testament? The Immaculate Conception, the +Resurrection, the Ascension--what's your child-mind that knows the +old stories for inventions going to say to those? Are they easier to +believe? The Creation or the Conception? The Flood or the Resurrection? +God speaking out of a burning bush or the Ascension to Heaven? The +pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire or the Three in One of the +Trinity? Oh, I wonder if Modern Thought has any thought to spare for +that side of the business--or for its results in a generation or two?" + +Then she wrote: + +"I've never taught them any different." + +Then she wrote: + +"Mother, I am a child again to-night. Darling, in that blue frock I used +to wear. Darling, all that I to-night am thinking is what you taught +me. Oh, look down, beloved! I've been so wrong. I thought everything was +infinitely better for them than you made it, beloved mother, for me. I +didn't realise." + +Then she wrote: + +"It just means losing everything in God that's human. It must mean that. +All our intelligence, if materialism may be called intelligence; all +modern teaching, if this new stuff that they pontificate may be called +teaching, offers us God the Spirit but, as it seems to me to-night, +denies us God the Father and God the Son. It may be--reasonable. But +things spiritual demand for their recognition emotions spiritual, and +there's a pass that thousands reach when the spirit is a dead thing. +If they are to believe in God only as a Spirit, a Force, a Power; an +Essence to be felt but not seen; an Element to be absorbed into but not +to be visualised--if this, if these, there needs in them some spirit, +some force, some power of themselves to lift themselves to meet it. +They must be of themselves responsive as hath the sea within itself +that which respondeth to the sublimation of the sun. Well, there are +thousands (am I not one?) that have it not. It once was theirs. Now it +is not theirs. If there is for them only God the Spirit then is there +for them only that to which they have no more power to reach than has +one bedridden power to rise and find a mile away what may restore him. +They have only that, their breaking heart, which would cast itself, ah, +with what bliss of utter abandonment, before God the Father, a human and +a personal Father, quick to succor, and before God the Son, a human and +a personal Son, ardent to intercede. And that is denied them. That God +that existed and that was taught to exist for my mother and for her day +to this day may not exist. It may be--reasonable. Oh, it is offering a +stone where bread was sought." + +She also wrote: + +"Oh, mother, if you could have been here, how you would have loved my +darlings, and how you would have given them all that you gave to me! +I will now, mother. Mother, I've come back home to them, in the blue +frock, and in the pinafore with a hole in it." + +That was the spirit in which she came back home to the children, that +and all that went with it and that arose out of it. It was nothing at +all to her when she did it, the frightful break with Field's. Harry +was distressed for her, but there was no need at all for him to be +distressed, she told him. There wasn't a sigh in her voice, nor in her +inmost thoughts a sigh, when, telling him of the interview with Mr. +Field and with Mr. Sturgiss at her resignation of her post, she said +with a smile, "Carry on? Of course the department can perfectly well +carry on. Dear, it's just the words I said to you a fortnight back on +the matter so very different. 'The thing's organised. It runs itself. +That is why it is the success it is, because it's organised. That's +why I can come away and leave it, because I'm an organiser. Aren't I an +organiser?" + +He held her immensely long in his arms. "You are my Rosalie," he said. + +Immensely long he held her, immensely close; oh, men that marry for a +home! Until, come home, she saw Harry's tremendous happiness in the home +that now she gave him, she never had realised the longing that must have +been his for the home for which he had married, and never till now had +had. It was poignant to her, the sight of his tremendous happiness. +"Always to find you here!" he would cry, in the first weeks of the new +life, coming home to tea and coming in to her in the drawing-room where +she would be, all ready for him, with Doda and with Benji. "Always to +leave you here!" he would say, taking leave of her in the morning, and +she and Doda and Benji coming with him to the hall door to see him off. +"Mice and Mumps," he used to add in codicil, "Mice and Mumps, I'm a +happy chap!" and was for ever bringing home trifles for her and for the +children, or plans and passes for how and where the Saturday and the +weekend should be spent, all four together. "Mice and Mumps, I'm gorged +with happiness! And you, Rosalie?" + +"Oh, happy!" she used to say. + +And was. It was poignant to her, his tremendous happiness, and it +brimmed up the cup of her own happiness. She was doing virtuously and +she had of her virtue that happiness which, as the pious old maxims tell +us, comes of being good. + +That should have been well; but virtue is a placid condition and the +happiness arising out of it placid. It brims no cups, flushes no cheeks, +sparkles no eyes. It is of the quality of happiness that one, loving a +garden, has from his garden, the happiness of tranquillity, not of stir; +of peace, not of thrills; of the country, not of the town. There was +more heady stuff than this that Rosalie had out of her new condition, +and that was dangerous. She was doing virtuously and she had out of her +virtue an intoxication of joy that, in so far as it is at all concerned +with virtue, arises, not from virtue's self, but from the consciousness +of virtue. That was dangerous. The danger point in stimulants is when +they are resorted to, not as concomitant of the pleasures of the table, +but be-cause they stimulate. Rosalie, come to her children and her Harry +and her home, to the thought of her renunciation and of her happiness +constantly was turning for the enormous exhilaration of happiness that +there she found. "How glad I am I gave it up! How glad! How glad! +How right I'm doing now! How right! How right! How happy I am in this +happiness! How happy! How happy!" + +Is it not perceived that thus it was not well assured, this great joy +that she had, this cup of hers that brimmed? She started from that +danger point at which the drug is drunk for stimulant. On the very first +day of her new life she was saying, "How glad I am! How glad I am!" and +going on radiant from her gladness. But she, in her resort to this her +stimulant, suffered this grave disparity with the drinker's case: he +must increase his doses--and he can. She, living upon her stimulant, +equally was compelled--but could not. The renunciation that brimmed her +happiness on the first day was available to her in no bigger dose on the +succeeding days, the hundredth day and the three hundredth and the five +hundredth. It never could increase. It had no capacity of increase. Is +it not perceivable that it had, on the contrary, a staling quality? + +It would have been all right if it had been all right. It would have +been all right if it had not been all wrong. If these absurd premises +can be understood, her case can be understood. She used them herself in +after years. "It would have been all right," she used to say to herself, +twisting her hands together, "if it had been all right." "It would have +been all right," she used to say to herself, "if it had not been all +wrong." What she meant, and what here is meant, requires it to be +recalled that it was in that spirit of that glimpse of herself back a +child again in the blue frock and in the pinafore with a hole in it that +she came back to the children, came back home to them. Shocked by +the thing that had come to pass, penitential by influence of the old +childhood influences that had stirred within her, most strangely and +most strongly transported back into that childhood vision of herself, it +was in the guise of that child and with that child's guise as her ideal +for them that passionately she desired to take up her children's lives. +Her Huggo, her man child, her first one! Her Doda, her self's own self, +her woman-bud, her daughter! Her Benji, her littlest one, her darling! +She longed, as it were, to throw open the door, and in that blue frock +and in the spirit of that blue frock most ardently to run in to them +and hug them, blue frocked, to her breast, and be one with them and tell +them the things and the things and the things that were the blue frock's +mysteries and joys, and hear from them the things and the things and the +things that were the blue frock's all-enchanted world again. + +That was what most terribly she wanted and with most brimming gladness +set about to do--and there was borne, in upon her, hinted in weeks, +published in months, in seasons sealed and delivered to her, that there +was among her children no place for that spirit. They did not welcome +the blue frock; they did not understand the blue frock; they were not +children as she had been a child. It was what Harry had said of them, +they somehow were not quite like other children; it was what she herself +had noticed in Huggo; they did not respond. They'd gone, those children, +too long as they'd been left to go. She came to them ardently. They +greeted her--not very responsively. They didn't understand. + +What happened was that, coming to them great with intention, she was, +by what she did not find in them, much dispirited in her intention. +What followed from that was that she turned the more frequently to the +stimulation of the thought of her renunciation, to the sensation of +happiness that arose in her by consciousness that she was doing what she +ought to be doing. She would be puzzled, she would be a little pained, +she would be a little tired at the effort, fruitless, to call up in the +children those lovely childish things that as a child had been hers. +She then would feel dispirited. She then would think, "But how glad I am +that I gave it all up; but how right I am to be at home with them; but +how happy I am that I am now doing that which is right." That stimulated +her. That made her tell herself (as before she had told Harry) that +it was just fancy, this apparent difference, this indifference, in the +children. + +But the more she found necessary that stimulus, the less that stimulus +availed; and she began to feel, then, the first faint gnawings after +that which had been stimulus indeed, her work, her career. + +Of course this is making a case for her, this is special pleading for +her, but who so abandoned that in the ultimate judgment a case will +not for him be prepared? Try to consider how it went with her. First +intoxication of happiness; and must not intoxication in time wear +off? Then immense intention and then dispirited in her intention. Then +frequent resource to the stimulus of her realisation of virtue and then +the natural diminution of that cup's effect. Is she not presented prey +for her life's habit's longings? Is she not shown dejected and caused by +that dejection (as caused by depression the reclaimed victim of a drug) +to desire again that which had been to her the breath of life? + +That was how it went with her. + +Doda was nine when she began; Huggo, when he was home for his holidays, +eleven, rising twelve; Benji only seven. They seemed to her, all +of them, wonderfully old for their years and, no getting over that, +different. She tried to read them the stories she used to love. They +didn't like them. Doda didn't like "The Wide Wide World" and didn't like +"Little Women." Huggo thought "The Swiss Family Robinson" awful rot, +and argued learnedly with her how grotesque it was to imagine all that +variety of animals and all that variety of plants in one same climate. +"But, Huggo, you needn't worry whether it was possible. It was just +written as a means of telling a family of children natural history +things. They didn't have to believe it. They only enjoyed it. I and +your uncle Robert never worried about whether it was possible; we simply +loved the adventure of it." + +"Well, I can't, mother," said Huggo. "It's not possible, and if it isn't +possible, I think it's stupid." + +And Doda thought Ellen in the "Wide Wide World" silly, and Beth and Jo +and the others in "Little Women" dull. + +She read them Dickens, but it was always, "Oh, leave out that part, +mother. It's dull." And so was Scott Lamb's "Tales from Shakespeare" +never had a chance at all. They had heard from Miss Prescott, or Huggo +had heard at school, that Shakespeare was a lesson. "Oh, not a thing +out of lessons, mother." What they liked were what seemed to Rosalie +the crudely written stories, and the grotesque and usually rather vulgar +comic drawings, in the host of cheap periodicals for children that +seemed to have sprung up since her day. They called these exciting or +funny and they revelled in them. They were different. Benji was no more +than a baby, but he was extraordinarily devoted to Doda, liked only the +things that Doda liked, and did not like the things that Doda didn't +like, or, in the language sometimes a little unpleasantly emphatic that +always was Doda's and Huggo's, that Doda "simply loathed." Rosalie had +some old bound numbers of treasured juvenile periodicals of the rectory +days. Even Benji didn't like them. They were markedly different from the +books the children did like. Their illustrations were mainly of children +in domestic scenes. "Don't they look stupid?" was Doda's comment; and +Benji, copying, thought they were stupid too. + +All this was a very small thing and of itself negligible; even, +as Rosalie told herself, natural--naturally children of succeeding +generations changed in their tastes. It only is introduced as +conveniently showing in an obscure aspect what was noticeable to +Rosalie, and felt by her, in many aspects, whose effect was +cumulative. "A kind of reserve," Harry had said of them: "a kind +of--self-contained." It was what she found. She wanted to be a child +with the children; they didn't seem to understand. She wanted to open +her heart to them and have their hearts opened to her; they didn't seem +to understand. She was always seeing that vision of Rosalie in the blue +frock among them, rather like Alice, the real Alice, Tenniel's Alice. +She was always feeling that Rosalie, thus guised, was held off from +their circle, not welcomed, not understood, as certainly they did not +care for the demure, quaint Alice of Tenniel. + +She began to have sometimes when she was with the children an +extraordinary feeling (just what Harry had said) that she was younger +than the children, that it was she who was the child, they that were the +grown-ups. + +When the step of her renunciation was first taken, ardent to devote +herself to them in every moment of the day, she began to give their +lessons to Doda and to Benji. It was not a success. The methods of +teaching, as the text-books, had changed since she was a child. The +Prescott methods were here and to her own methods the children did not +respond. There it was again--did not respond. There was obtained a Miss +Dormer who came in daily and who confined herself, Rosalie saw to that, +solely to lessons; the walks and all the other hours of the day were +Rosalie's. + +That's all for that. The picture has been overdrawn if has been given +the suggestion that Rosalie was unhappy with the children or the +children openly indifferent to her. All of that nature that in fact +arose was that, whereas Rosalie had expected an immense and absorbing +occupation with the children, she found instead an occupation very +loving and very happy but not relieving her of all the interest and all +the affection she had desired to pour into it. It was rather like to a +hungry person a strange dish that had looked substantial but that, when +finished, was found not to have been substantial; still hungry. She +had thought the children would have been entirely dependent on her. She +found them in many ways independent and wishing to be independent. It +would have been all right if it had been all right. That was it. It +would have been all right if it had not been all wrong. That was it. + +She began to think of Field's. + +When first she began to think of Field's, which was when she had been +nine months away from Field's, she would let her mind run upon it +freely, as it would. One day, thus thinking upon it, she brought up her +thoughts as it were with a round turn. She must not think so much about +Field's--not like that. She sighed, and with the same abruptness of +mental action checked her sigh; she must not regret Field's--not like +that. + +It was a fateful prohibition. It was the discovery to herself, as to +Eve of the tree by the serpent, of a temptation seductive and forbidden. +Thereafter "like that" her mind, missing no day nor no night, was often +found by her to be there. The quality that made "like that" not seemly +to her, increased, at each return, its potency. + +It became very difficult to drag her mind away. It became impossible to +drag her mind away. + +Her governance of her mind became infected and it became not necessary +to think it necessary to drag her mind away. + +She had not visited Field's since she had left. Mr. Sturgiss and Mr. +Field had written to her reproaching her for carrying to such lengths +of neglect her desertion of them, and she had responded banteringly but +without a call. One day (she had lain much awake on the previous night) +she at breakfast told Harry she had the idea of going that afternoon to +see how Field's was getting on. + +She was surprised at his supplement to his reply. The children had left +the room. He first agreed with her that the idea was good. "Yes, rather; +why not?" was the expression he used. He then said, surprising her, +"Rosalie, you've never, have you, regretted?" + +Her surprise framed for her her reply. "Why ever should you ask that?" + +"I've thought you've not been looking very well lately." + +"But what's the connection, Harry?" + +"Fretting?" + +She smiled. "I'm not the fretting sort." + +He was perfectly satisfied. "I knew you'd tell me if you were. +Everything going well?" + +"Fine." + +He shot out his arms with a luxurious stretching gesture. "Mice and +Mumps, it's been fine for me, I can tell you. Fine, fine!" + +How happy he looked! How handsome he looked! Her thought was "Dear +Harry!" + +He got up and began to set about his departure. She went with him into +the hall and she called up the stairs, "Children, father's going." They +came bounding down. He joked and played with them. He loved this custom, +now long established. She brushed his hat, also a rite she knew he +loved. He kissed her with particular affection. "Yes, you go up to +Field's and give old Sturgiss and old Field my love. You'll almost have +forgotten the way there. I say, it's funny, isn't it, how time changes +things and how it goes? We couldn't have imaged this once, and here it +is the most established thing in the world. Do you know, it's almost +exactly a year since you chucked it?" + +"Chucked it!" The light expression smote her. O manlike man that thus +could phrase divorce that from her heart's engrossment had cut her life +asunder! + +In the afternoon she set out upon her intention. It meant nothing, her +visit, she assured herself. It had no purpose beyond the exchange of +courtesies. But when she was leaving the house she paused. Should she +go? She went down the steps and through the gate, then paused again. She +returned to the house. She had an idea. She would take the children with +her. She called them, and while they gleefully dressed for the outing +she repeated to herself the word in which the idea of taking them with +her had come to her. + +"A bodyguard!" she said. + +The note of laughter she gave at the word had a tremulous sound. + +Tremulous would well have described her manner when they were at +Field's. She was asking herself as they went towards the City what it +was that she wanted to hear--that Field's was doing very well without +her? That her department was not doing very well without her? Which? + +She would not let her mind affirm which it was that she desired. + +It appeared, when they arrived, that it was neither, nor anything at +all to do with the Bank. Her first words to the partners were of +smiling apology at bringing to precincts sacred to business, "a herd of +children." That was a natural introduction of herself; it was an unusual +thing to do. But not natural the way in which she maintained the subject +of the children. It seemed that she had come to talk of nothing +else. Tremulous she was; talking, of the children, with the incessant +eagerness, and with the nervous eagerness, of one either clamant to +establish a case or frightened of a break in the conversation lest +a break should cause appearance of a subject most desperately to be +avoided. + +Her bodyguard! + +Mr. Field and Mr. Sturgiss were delighted to see her and expressed +themselves delighted to see the children. There was plenty in the bank, +coffers and strong-rooms and all sorts of exciting things, said Mr. +Field, that would amuse the small people, and when tea was done they +should be taken around to see them. In an inner holy of holies, behind +the partners' parlour, a very exciting tea was made. A clerk was sent +out for a parcel of pastries and returned with an enormous bag, and +there was no tablecloth, nor no proper tea-table, and the children, much +excited, were immensely entertained. + +Easy, while they were there, to make them the conversation's centre. +But the meal ended and then became most evident her anxiety to keep the +chatter on the children. They became impatient to be off on the promised +exploration. She delayed it. Twice the clerk who was to conduct the tour +was about to be summoned. By a new gathering of general attention, she +stopped his coming. When at last he came she said she would be of the +party. The partners did not want that. The children did not want it. +"Mother, it will be much more exciting by ourselves." She insisted. +She was aware for the first and only time in her life of a feeling +of nerves, of not being quite in control of herself, of making of her +insistence rather more than should be made. + +"Well, stay," said Mr. Sturgiss, "at least for a minute's chat before +you join them." + +That was not possible, unless she was going to become hysterical, to +resist. The children trooped away. Her bodyguard! + +She turned aside and it is to be remembered for her that, her face +concealed from the partners, she gave the tiniest despairing gesture +with her hands. + +When, with the children, she was returning home, she was trying to +determine whether, while it was in suspense, she had or had not desired +to hear of the partners that which she had heard from them. They had +talked with her generally of the business. They had talked particularly +of the work of her department of the business. There was approaching all +the time the thing that sooner or later they must say. She was trembling +all the time to know how she would receive it. In whichever of its two +ways it came would she be glad or would she be sorry? She simply did not +know. She suddenly herself projected the point. She could not endure +any longer its delay. "And Miss Farmer," she said. "How's Miss Farmer +doing?" Miss Farmer, formerly one of her assistants, had on her +resignation taken her place. + +Miss Farmer, replied Mr. Sturgiss, was estimable but--he opened his +hands and made with them a deprecatory gesture. "She's not you. How +could she be you, or any one be you? We could replace Miss Farmer. +What's the good? It's you we've got to replace. We can't replace you." + +Her heart had bounded. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +That happened in the Christmas holidays, in January. In February was +Doda's eleventh birthday. The child had friends rather older than +herself, neighbours, who for a year had been boarders at a school +in Surrey. She was desperately eager to join them there and it was a +promise from Rosalie that she should go when she was twelve, earlier if +she were good. On this eleventh birthday, which brought birthday letters +from the neighbours at the school and thus again brought up the subject, +"Oh, haven't I been good?" cried Doda at the birthday breakfast. "Oh, +do let me go next term, mother. Father, do say I may." Her eagerness for +school had been much fostered by Huggo's holiday stories of school life; +and Huggo, as Doda now adduced, was leaving his preparatory and starting +at Tidborough next term; couldn't she, oh, couldn't she make also her +start then? + +Harry said, "O grown-up woman of enormous years, think of your sorrowing +parents. How will you like to leave your weeping mother, Doda? How will +you like to leave your heart-broken old father?" + +"Oh, I'd love to!" cried Doda. + +The ingenuousness of it made her parents laugh. + +"She'll have her way, won't she?" said Harry, when Doda, conscious, by +that laugh, of tolerance, had danced out of the room. + +"I think she'd better," said Rosalie. + +The school was very well known to Rosalie. It was exclusive and +expensive; was limited to seventy girls, of whom twenty, under the age +of thirteen, were received in the adapted Dower House of the ancient +estate which was its home; and the last word in modernity was, in every +point of administration, its first word. It had been established only +eight years. The motto of its founders and of its lady principal was +"Not traditions--precedents!" + +The subject came up again between Rosalie and Harry that evening and it +was decided that Doda should be placed there after the next holidays, at +the opening of the summer term. Harry declared himself, "in my bones" as +he expressed it, against boarding schools for girls, "But that's my old +fogeyism," said he. "It's the modern idea that girls should have the +same training and the same chances in life as their brothers, and +there's no getting away from the right of it." + +Rosalie said in a low voice, "To what end?" + +He did not hear her. She had got out from the accumulation of papers +of her business life prospectuses and booklets of the school and he was +amusedly browsing over the refinements and advantages therein, not by +traditions but by precedents, set forth. "Mice and Mumps, Rosalie," +said he, "they not only do riding as a regular thing but 'parents are +permitted, if they wish, to stable a pupil's own pony (see page 26).' +Oh, thanks, thanks! 'Mr. Harry Occleve, barrister-at-law, availing +himself of your gracious permission on page twenty-six, is sending down +for his daughter a coach and four with 'ostlers, grooms, coachmen, and +outriders complete.' Ha!" + +She was just watching him. + +He said after an interval: "Yes, there's a lot of sound stuff here, +Rosalie. It's convincing. Not that any one needs convincing on the point +less than you and I." He quoted again. "'And advance them towards an +independent and a womanly womanhood.' And it talks further back about +how 'Idle women' will soon be recognised as great a term of reproach +as 'an idle man.' It's sound. I like this booklet here that each +girl's given, 'To the Girl of the Future.' It tells them all about an +independent career, makes no fancy picture of it, tells 'em everything. +Did you read that?" + +"A long time ago. It probably doesn't tell them one thing." + +"What?" + +"That they can always--chuck it." + +He looked up quickly. "Hull-o!" + +She gave him no response to his expressed surprise and he laughed and +said, "D'you know, Rosalie, I don't believe I've ever before heard you +use slang." + +"You taught me that bit, Harry." + +"Oh, I sling it about. When did I?" + +"One day last holidays when it was just on a year since I'd left +Field's. Just a year, you said, since I'd--chucked it. O Harry--" + +There was a quality in her voice that might, from what she saw upon his +face, have been a tocsin's roll. His face was as a place of assembly +into which, as it might be a people alarmed, there came crowding in +emotions. + +He said, "What's up?" + +She said, "O Harry, you look out for yourself!" + +There was much movement in his face. "Look out for myself?" + +She said, "That came out of me. I didn't know I was going to say it. +It's a warning. It shows the fear I have." + +"Rosalie, of what, of what?" + +"Harry, for you." + +"You're going to say something you think will hurt me?" + +"No, something you'll have to fight--if you want to fight it. Harry, +perhaps I can't go on like this. I want to go back to my work." + +He expired a breath he had been holding. "I was guessing it." + +"Before just now?" + +"No, while you've been speaking. Only now. I asked you weeks ago if you +ever felt you regretted--" + +She leant forward from the couch whereon she sat, and with an extended +hand interrupted him. She said intensely, "Look here, Harry, if it was +just regret I'd not mind and I would tell you No a hundred times, just +not to disturb you, dear. But when you asked me that you spoke, a minute +afterwards, of my having--chucked it, as if it was giving up sugar +or stopping bridge. Well, that's why I'm warning you to look out for +yourself. Because, Harry, I don't regret it. I'm craving to go back to +it, craving, craving, craving!" She stopped. She said, "Do you want me +not to go back, Harry?" + +He looked steadily at her. "Rosalie, it would be a blow to me." + +She said, "Well, then!" and she leaned back in the couch as though all +now was explained. + +He very gravely asked her, "Are you going back, Rosalie?" + +"Would it be a crime, Harry, to go back?" + +He said to her, "I believe in my soul it would be a disaster." + +She got up. "Come over here to me, Harry." + +He went to her and took the hands that she extended to him. "If you +think that, a disaster, and if to you it would be what you said, a blow; +then that's what I mean by saying, Harry, you look out for yourself. I +don't know if I'm going back. I want to go terribly, oh, terribly. There +was a woman I once knew told me that if a woman once gives herself to +a thing, abandons all else and gives herself to it, she never never can +come back from it. 'They don't issue return tickets to women,' she said +to me. 'If you give yourself,' she said, 'you're its. You may think you +can get away but you never will get away. You're its.' She was right, +Harry. I believe I've got to go back. If you don't want me to, well, +you look out for yourself." She drew herself towards him by her hands. +"Harry, when I went down to Field's with the children that day last +holidays I took them to be a bodyguard to me, to prevent me from being +captured. When they left me there alone for a few minutes, I turned away +and wrung my hands because I knew I was going to be terribly tempted. I +am terribly tempted. I'm being dragged." She went into his arms. "Harry, +hold me terribly tight and say you don't want me to go back." + +He most tenderly embraced her. "Don't go back, Rosalie." + +She disengaged herself, and made a sound, "Ah!" as if, while he had held +her body, herself had held the fort of her solicitude for his desires +against the horde of her own cravings that swarmed about its walls. + +How long? + +There was a mirage in her face. While Easter came and Doda, in huge +spirits, made her start at school, and Huggo, boisterously elated, his +start at Tidborough, and Benji, much dejected at Doda's going, his start +at Huggo's former day school; and while the long summer term and the +holidays passed on, there was never again seen nor heard by Harry the +tenderness that had been in her face and in her voice when she had +warned him, "Well, Harry, you look out for yourself," and when she had +asked him, "Harry, hold me terribly tight in your arms and say you do +not want me to go back." There thenceforward did fill up her countenance +the boy, mutinous and defiant, that was her other self. It was almost +upon the morrow of that passage with him (whose poignancy the written +word has failed to show) that she had a revulsion from the attitude +she had then exposed to him. Avid now to go back to the life she had +abandoned, she was ferocious to herself when she remembered she had +asked him, "Would it be a crime, Harry, to go back?" A crime! "Horrible +traitor to myself that I was" (her thoughts would go) "to question it a +crime just to take up my life again! A crime! Horrible fool that I was +to be able, with no sense of humour, to give to so natural a desire an +epithet so ludicrous as crime! A crime! A right, a right!" + +Worst of all, she had invited, she had implored, Harry when her longings +were manifest to reason with her. Her longings now always were manifest; +but when he reasoned with her it was out of the scorpions of her +revulsion that she answered him. + +He once said, "It appears to me that your attitude is changed from the +night you first mentioned this." + +She said, "Harry, what's disturbing me when we talk about it is not my +own case, it's the general case. Here's a woman--never mind that it's +me--here's a woman that has made a success in life, that has abandoned +it and that wants to go back to it. You argue she mustn't. I could say +it's monstrous. I don't say that. I choose to say it's pitiful. If it +was a man, he'd go. He wouldn't think twice about it. And if he did +think twice about it, every opinion and every custom that he +consulted would tell him he was right to go. It happens to be a woman, +therefore--well, that's the reason! It's a woman--therefore, No. +That's the beginning of the reason and the end of the reason. A +woman--therefore, No. Oh, it's pitiful--for women." + +Harry questioned: "Every opinion and every custom would tell a man to +go? No, no. You're taking too much for granted, Rosalie. He wouldn't +go, necessarily, and he wouldn't be advised to go, if he had duties that +pulled him the other way." + +She gave a note of amusement. "But that's the point. He never would have +such duties. It's notable that a man always makes his duties and his +ambitions go hand in hand. Yes, it's notable, that." + +"Well, put it another way. Suppose it wasn't necessary for him to go.... +Suppose nothing depended on his going, much on his staying. That makes +the parallel, Rosalie." + +She said to him, "Ah, I'll agree to that. Let that make the parallel. +They'd tell a man in such a case, 'Man, take up your ambitions. You are +a man. You have yourself to think of.' That's what they'd say. Well, +that's what I'm saying. 'I am a woman. I have myself to think of.'" + +He asked, "And shall you, Rosalie?" + +She said, "I'm thinking--every day." + +The more she thought, the more she stiffened. This was the thought +against whose goad she always came--Why should she be hesitant? What a +position! What a light upon the case and upon the status of woman +that, just because she was a woman, she must not consider her own, her +personal interests! For no other reason; just that; because she was a +woman! + +"I've shut a gate behind me," she on another day said to Harry. "That's +what I've done. I've come out of a place and shut the gate behind me +and because I am a woman I mustn't open it and go back. That's what a +woman's life is--always shutting gates behind her. There aren't gates +for a man. There're just turnstiles. As he came out so he can always go +back--even to his youth. When he's fifty he still can go back and have +the society of twenty and play the fool as he did at twenty. Can a +woman?" + +"That's physical," said Harry. "A man much longer keeps his youth." + +She said then the first aggressively bitter thing he ever had heard her +say. "Ah, keeps his youth!" she said. "So does a dog that's run free. +It's the chain and kennel sort that age." + +She hardened her heart. + +She looked back upon the days when she had discovered for herself the +difference between sentiment and sense, between sentimentality and +sensibility. She then had made her life, and therefore then her +happiness, by putting away sentiment and using sense for spectacles. She +told herself she now was ruining her life, and certainly letting go her +happiness, by suffering herself to bear the sentimental handicap. + +The summer holidays came. It had been her obvious argument to Harry +that, now the elder children were at school, and Benji soon to be the +same, that reason for her constant presence in the home no longer was +advanceable. It had been Harry's argument to her that there were the +holidays to remember. The holidays came. Huggo wrote that he wanted to +go straight from school to a topping time in Scotland to which he had +been invited by a chum; when that was over he had promised, and he was +sure he would be allowed, to have the last three weeks with another +friend whose people had a ripping place in Yorkshire. Doda came home and +Doda's first excitement was that nothing arranged might interfere with +an invitation from mid-August to a schoolfellow whose family were going +to Brittany. So much for her holiday necessity! Rosalie thought. So much +for Harry's idea of how the children would naturally long to spend the +vacation all together! Doda did not seem to have a thought for Huggo, +nor Huggo a thought for when he should see Doda. Neither of them, she +could not help noticing, had the faintest concern to be with Benji. She +and Harry with Benji went down to a furnished house in Devonshire, and +the other two, their plans in part curtailed, were brought to join them. +It was jolly enough. It would have been more truly jolly, she used +to think, if Doda had not largely divided her time between writing to +apparently innumerable school friends and counting the days to when she +might be released for the Brittany expedition; and if Huggo had not +for the first few days openly sulked at the veto on the Yorkshire +invitation. How independent they were, how absorbed in their friends, +how--different! + +She hardened her heart. + +The reopening of the schools drew on and return was made to London. +Huggo and Doda were made ready for school and returned to school. The +Law Courts reopened and Harry took up again his work. October! You +could not take up a paper without reading of the inauguration of the new +Sessions at all the universities and seats of education. October! The +newspapers that for months had been padding out vapid nothings became +intense with the activities of a nation back to the collar. October! The +first brisk breath of winter in the air! She could not stand this! Could +not, could not! + +She said suddenly one evening: "Harry, I was down at Field's to-day. +They want me." + +Ever since, by that simile of hers of the dog chained and kenneled, +she had put a bitter note into this matter between them, he had by this +means or by that contributed no share to it when she had presented it. +He once had referred to the dog incident. "I can't talk to you when you +talk like that, old girl," he had said. "That's not us. We don't talk +like that. You know how I feel about this matter. Talking only vexes +it." + +"Harry, I was down at Field's to-day. They want me." It was now to be +faced. + +He put down the paper he had been reading and began to fill his pipe. +"This wants a smoke," he said and smiled at her; and he then told her +that which the level quality of her voice, a note from end to end of +purpose, had informed him. "I think we're getting to the end of this +business," he said. + +Her voice maintained its quality. "Yes, near the end, Harry." + +"Field's want you. What are you going to do?" + +"Going back." + +"I want you." + +"I'm not leaving you. I am with you, as I came to you!" + +"The children want you." + +"I am not leaving the children." + +"It's a question of home, Rosalie. It's the home wants you." + +She shook her head. + +"What are you going to do? + +"Going back." + +"You've thought of everything?" + +"Everything." + +"The children?" + +"Harry, the children don't want me in the way that children used to want +their mothers when I was a child. They don't display the same affection, +not in the same way, that we used to. I wish they did. I came back +for it. It wasn't there. They're darlings, but they're self-reliant +darlings, self-assured, self-interested." + +"They've a right to a home, Rosalie." He paused. "And, Rosalie, I have a +right to a home." + +She said, "Have I no rights?" + +"There are certain things--" he slowly said and paused +again--"established." + +She said quickly, "Yes, men think that. They always have. Well, I +believe that nothing is." + +He looked steadily before him. "If it's not established that woman's +part is the home part; if that is going to change, I wonder what's going +to happen to the world?" + +She said, "Men always do. They always have--wondered, and the future +always has changed right out of their wondering. I believe that the +future is with woman. I believe that as empires have passed, Rome, +Greece, Carthage, that seemed to their rulers the pillars of the world, +so will pass man's dominion. Woman's revolt--it's no use talking of it +as that, as a revolt. Women aren't and never will be banded. They're +like the Jews. They're everywhere but nowhere. But the Jews have had +their day; woman--not yet. They work, not banded, but in single spies. +In every generation more single spies and more single spies. In +time.... In every generation man's dominion, by like degree, decreased, +decreased. In time.... I'm one of this day's single spies, Harry." + +He said with a sudden animation, "Look here, let's take it on that +level, Rosalie. In your case what's the need? Call it dominion. I've +never exercised nor thought to exercise dominion over you." + +"But you've not understood, Harry. I gave up what was my life to me. +To you I'd only--chucked it. Oh, but that hurt! That man's supreme +indifference, that is dominion." + +He said, "I'll know it, dearest, for your sacrifice." + +She put out a hand as if to hold that word away. "Oh, trust not that. +They talk of the ennoblement of sacrifice. Ah, do not believe it. It can +go too long, too far, and then like wine too long matured... just acid, +Harry. I never said a bitter thing to you until--thus sacrificing. It is +the kennel dog again. If I went on I'd grow more bitter yet, more bitter +and more bitter. It's why women are so much more bitter than men. It's +what they've sacrificed. I'm going back, Harry. I've got to. You ask +me if I've thought of everything. I have; but even if I had not this +outrides it all. I have gone too far. She was right, that woman I told +you of, who said that for a woman, once she has given herself to a +thing, there is no comeback from it. I have tried. It is not to be +done." + +There was a very long silence. She said, "It's settled, Harry." + +He said, "Nothing's been said, Rosalie, that gets over what I have said. +There's no home here while both of us are working. I have a right to a +home. The children have a right to a home. Nothing gets over that." + +She answered, "Then, Harry, give yourself a home. Give the children a +home." + +He said, "I am a man." + +She answered, "I am a woman." + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The thing goes now at a most frightful pace for Rosalie. One hates the +slow, laborious written word that tries to show it. There needs a +pen with wings or that by leaping violence of script, by characters +blotched, huge and run together, would symbolise the pace at which the +thing now goes. There's no procession of the days. Immersed in work or +lost in pleasure, there never is procession of the days, so hurtling +fast goes life. They crowd. They're driven past like snow across a +window pane. The calendar astounds. It is the first of the month, +and lo, it is the tenth. It's the sixteenth--half gone!--while yet it +scarcely had begun; a day after the twentieth is the date; it's next +the twenty-fifth; it's next--the month has gone.... The month! It is a +season that has flown. Here's Summer where only yesterday the buds of +Spring; here's Winter, coming--gone!--while yet the leaves seem falling. + +It was like that the thing now went with Rosalie. + +They call it a race. It isn't a race, living like that. It's a pursuit. +Engaged in it, you're not in rivalry, you are in flight. You're fleeing +all the time the reckoning; and he's a sulky savage, forced to halt to +gather up what you have shed, ordered to pause to note the things that +you have missed, and at each duty cutting notches in a stick. + +That is his tally which, come up, he will present to you. + +Well, best perhaps to take that tally stick to try by it to show the +pace at which the thing now went. Rosalie, when all was done, could run +the tally over (you have to) in thought, that lightning vehicle that +makes to crawl the swiftest agency of man's invention: runs through a +lifetime while the electric telegraph is stammering a line; reads memory +in twenty volumes between the whiff and passing of some remembered scent +that's opened them; travels a life again, cradle to grave, between the +vision's lighting on and lifting from some token of the past. + +All's done; some years rush on; she sits in retrospection, that tally +stick in hand; and thought, first hovering, would always start for her +from when, returned to her career, the thing at frightful pace began to +go; and then, from there, away! from scene to scene (the notches cut by +reckoning in his stick) rending the womb of memory in dread delivery, +as it were flash on flash of lightning bursting the vault of night from +east to west across the world. + +Her thoughts first hovering: There's Huggo and there's Doda and there's +Benji! Her children! Her darling ones! Her lovely ones! Love's crown; +and, what was more, worn in the persons of those darling joys of hers +in signal, almost arrogant in her disdain of precedent to the contrary, +that woman might be mother and yet live freely and unfettered by her +home, precisely as man is father but follows a career. Ah.... + +Away! The womb of memory is rent, and rent, delivers. + +Look, there they are! She's down with one or other at some gala at their +schools. It's Founders' Day at Tidborough, or it's at Doda's school on +Prize Day. Aren't they just proud to be with her and show her off, +their lovely, brilliant mother so different from the other rather fussy +mothers that come crowding down! All the masters and all the mistresses +know the uncommon woman that she is. The children, growing older, know +it. "You must be very proud of your mother." It has been said (the +self-same words) to each of them by their respective principals. Nice! +Nice to have your children proud of you! + +Look, there's Huggo telling her how the headmaster had said the thing +to him (she's just walking with her Huggo across the cricket ground on +Founders' Day). "And a sloppy young ass that heard him," says Huggo, +"oh, an awful ass, asked me why the Head had said I must be proud +of you, and I told him, and I said, 'I bet you're not proud of your +mother.' And he said, 'Of my father, I am. He got the V. C. in South +Africa.' So I said, 'Yes, but proud of your mother?' So this frightful +ass said--what do you think he said? 'No, I'm not proud of my mother. I +don't think I'd want to be. I only love her.'" + +Huggo mimicked the voice in which the frightful ass had said this; and +Rosalie, at the words and at his tone, had across her body a sudden +chill, as it were physical. She wanted to say something. But it was the +kind of thing you couldn't, somehow, say to Huggo, at fifteen. But she +said it. "Huggo, you do love me, don't you?" + +He turned to her a face curiously thin-lipped. "Oh, I say, mother, do +look out, some one might hear you!" + +Her Huggo! (She wants to stop the passing scenes and to stretch out to +him across the years her arms.) Her Huggo! The one that first along her +arm had laid; the scrap that first within her eyes adoring tears had +brimmed; her baby boy, her tiny manling, her tiny hugging one, her first +born! It is in retrospection that she sits and there's expelled for ever +from her face that aspect mutinous, intolerant, defiant, that used to +visit there. That, when she housed it, was the aspect of the young man +Ishmael whose hand was against every man. She is like Hagar now to be +imagined, sitting over against these things a good way off, as it were a +bowshot. + +Strike on! + +Her Huggo! Look, that's the day they got that bad report of him from +school. She had questioned Harry about a letter in his post and, naming +the headmaster of Tidborough, "Yes, it's from Hammond," he had answered +her. + +"About Huggo?" + +"Yes, it's about Huggo." + +Nothing more. They were beginning to have exchanges terse as that. + +She said presently, "I suppose it would interest me, wouldn't it?" + +His face was very hard. "Do you want to know the answer I feel like +giving to that?" + +"I've asked for it, haven't I, Harry?" + +"You shall have it. The answer is that I think what the letter says +implicates you." + +She preserved her composure. She by now had had practice in preserving +her composure. "What's the matter, Harry?" + +"Hammond says--as good as says--that Huggo will have to be withdrawn +from Tidborough." + +She knew perfectly well that this was only leading up to something. "May +I hear?" + +"You may." He took up the letter and read from it. "'Apart from that, +and it would of course be the reason given--the other, I am confident, +is susceptible of change--apart from that, the boy has now twice failed +to keep his place in the school. If he does not get his remove in the +coming term I shall be compelled to ask you to remove him.'" He put down +the letter and looked at her. "That'll be nice, won't it?" + +She made an appeal. "Harry, don't. I mean, don't talk like that. It +won't happen." + +He softened in no degree. He said sternly: "It will happen." + +She persevered. "I'm quite sure it won't. You've only got to talk +seriously to Huggo. This coming holidays you can get him some coaching. +He's got brains." + +There was a steely note in Harry's voice: "Oh, he's got brains. He can +have coaching. It's what he hasn't got and what he can't get that's +going to get Huggo withdrawn." + +"What is it you mean?" + +"A home." + +She slightly raised the fingers of her hands and dropped them. This +subject! + +Harry said: "Hammond says more than I've told you." + +"I supposed he did. 'Apart from that.' Apart from what?" + +"It's Huggo's character he's writing to me about. This is what he says. +'The boy, though young, has not a good influence in his house. If I may +suggest it, he does not, during the holidays, see enough of his home.'" + +He folded the letter and returned it to its envelope. "Does it strike +you that is going to be easy for me to answer?" + +"It might be easier, Harry, if your tone made it possible for us to +discuss it." + +He gave a sound that was glint, as it were, of the blade in his voice: +"Our discussions! I am a little tired of that blind alley, Rosalie." + +She said sombrely, "And I." + +"Will you suggest how the letter is to be answered?" + +She said: "It's plain. If you agree with Mr. Hammond, it's plain. You +can say you will stop Huggo's invitations. Harry, we're not by any means +the only family that doesn't spend the whole of its holidays together. +It's rather the practice nowadays, young people visiting their friends. +If you think Huggo shouldn't--you can say so." + +"Yes, I can say that. Tell me this. Is it going to give him a home?" + +Her voice sprung from a sudden higher note. "Oh, you insist, you +insist!" she cried. "You speak of blind alleys, but you insist." + +He touched the letter. "This gives me ground for my insistence. This is +an outsider, a stranger, appreciating how we live. This is my son, at my +old school, condemned by how we live." + +She interjected, "A schoolmaster's primeval animosity--blame the +parent." + +"Rosalie, a parent's primeval duty. We are responsible for the children. +We have a duty towards them." + +She softly struck her hands together. "Ah, how often, how often, and +always worse! You said just now that I am implicated. It's always I. You +say we have a responsibility towards the children. But you don't mean +us, you mean me. Why I more than you? Why am I the accused?" + +He began, "Because you--" + +"Ah, don't, don't!" + +But he concluded. "Because you are a woman." + +Her voice that had gone high went numb. She made a gesture, as to the +same reason and with the same words she'd made before, of weariness with +this thing, "Ah, my God, that reason!" + +Strike on! + +Look, there's Huggo, failing again to get his remove, superannuated, +withdrawn. There's Harry having a scene with the boy. There ought to be +tears. There are tears. But they're in Harry's voice and twice he wipes +his eyes. They're not in Huggo's. + +Harry says to Huggo: "I say, I'm not going to be harsh; but, I say, +can't you understand the disgrace; can't you understand the shame, +old man? You've been at the finest school in England and you've had +to leave. You're sixteen. Old man, when I was sixteen I got my footer +colours. I was the youngest chap in the team. You're sixteen and you've +never even got a house cap and you've had to leave. Huggo, I've never +missed going down to a Founders' Day since I went to Oxford. It's always +been the day of the year for me. I don't say I've ever done much in +life, but every time I've been down to Founders' Day I've thought over, +in the train, any little thing I may have pulled out in the year and +I've felt, I've felt awfully proud to be taking it down to the old +school, so to speak. Old chap, the proudest, far the proudest of all, +was the year I went down when first you were there. I was proud. I'd +given a son to the place. I'd got a boy there. Another Occleve was going +to write the name up on the shields and rolls and things. It was the +year Garnett first came down as a Cabinet Minister. Huggo, I looked old +Garnett in the face with a grin. Whatever he'd done I'd got this much up +on him--he hadn't given a son to the place. He hadn't got a boy there. +That's how I always felt. Well, old man, it's all over. I can't go +down to Founders' Day ever again. I've never missed. Now--I've had to +withdraw my boy. I can't go again. I couldn't face it." + +He wiped his eyes. No tears in Huggo's eyes. On Huggo's face only a +look sullen and aggrieved; and sullen and aggrieved his mutter, "Well, +perhaps it was different for you. I couldn't stick the place." + +She gasped out, "Huggo!" but Harry had heard, and Harry, perhaps in +offset to the emotion he had displayed, smashed his hand down on the +table before him and cried out, "Well, keep your mouth shut about it +then! Couldn't stick it! What can you be? What can be the matter with +you? Couldn't stick it! Tidborough! The finest school in the world! +Couldn't stick it!" + +She interposed, "Harry, dear! Huggo; Huggo, tell your father you didn't +mean that." + +Huggo's mumble: "I'm sorry, father." + +Harry's deep, kind voice: "I'm sorry too, old man. It rather jarred. +Look here, this is all over. It's just been a side-slip. I've forgotten +it. So has your mother. You just think over sometimes what I've said, +my boy. We're fixing up this tutor's for you. You start in fresh and go +like steam. Finest thing in the world a fresh start. Makes a side-slip +worth while. I'm going to be--I am--prouder of you than anything on +earth. My eldest boy! Like steam from now, old chap, eh?" + +Strike on! + +After that interview and when the boy had left the room--shambled out +of the room in that sullen, aggrieved air he would always assume under +correction--after that she and Harry had talked, most fondly. It was +all, the talk, that poignantly affecting "fresh start" business that +he'd begun with Huggo. Poignantly affecting because Harry, piling upon +his love for Huggo and his pride in Huggo, which she shared, his love +for his old school and his pride in it, which she could understand but +could not share, had been so bravely, cheerfully earnest and assured +about the future. "One who never turned his back but marched breast +forward." The boy would be all right. Mice and Mumps, old lady, he'd be +all right! It was just a mistake, just a side-slip. He'd got the right +stuff in him, Huggo had, eh, old lady? They must just pull together to +help the boy, eh? + +He paused the tiniest space at that and pressed her hand and looked at +her. She knew his meaning. If only.... + +He went on: This was a good place, this tutor's down in Norfolk they +were sending him to, Harry was sure it was. It was a pity, of course, +he couldn't go to another public school; but of course he couldn't; they +wouldn't take him; no use worrying about that. This tutor, this man they +were sending him to, was a first-class chap. Only took six pupils. Was +a clergyman. Understood boys and youths who hadn't quite held their own +and wanted special coaching and attention. Huggo was keen on the idea. +After all, why shouldn't he have disliked Tidborough? There were such +boys who didn't like public-school life. There, there! Perhaps it was +the best thing that could have happened. Bet your life this was going +to be the making of old Huggo, this change. This tutor and the quiet, +self-reliant life there, each chap with his own jolly little bed-sitting +room, would prop him up and get him into Oxford when the time came and +make him no end happy and splendid. + +"There, there, old lady," said Harry, and patted her and kissed her +(she'd been affected). "There, there, it's going to be fine. The rest is +just up to us, eh? We know the boy's weaknesses. We know what Hammond's +told us about him--home life and home influences and all that stuff, and +that's easy; we'll see the boy gets that, won't we?" + +She used to wring her hands at that, and crying "If only!" cry again +in desperation of excuse: "If only the war hadn't come! If only the war +hadn't come!" + +The war was on then. It was 1915. "You see," she used to appeal to the +arbitrament before which, watching these pictures, she found herself, +"you see, the war made everything so difficult, so impossible, so +frightful, so confused, so blinding. Sturgiss had left the Bank to do +war service in the Treasury. More than half the clerks had gone. We were +understaffed and badly staffed at every turn. How could I give it up +then? I don't say I would have. I'm on my knees. I've thrown in my hand. +I'm not pretending anything or anyway trying to delude myself. I don't +say I would have given it up and come home to make home life for the boy +and for them all. I don't say I would. I'm only saying how infinitely +harder, how impossibly harder, the war conditions made it. There was the +understaffing--that alone. There was the cry about releasing a man for +the front--that alone. I was releasing half a dozen men. Field said I +was. I knew I was. How could I go back and be one of the women sitting +at home? That alone! How could I? And there was more than that. It +wasn't only the understaffing. It was Sturgiss going. I'd been absorbing +the banking business for years. It was meat and drink to me. I'd had a +bent for it ever since the Bagehot 'Lombard Street' days. I'd nourished +my bent. I'd been encouraged to nourish my bent. The work was just a +passion with me. Sturgiss went. I went practically into his place. I'd +a position in banking that no woman had ever held, nor no banker ever +imagined a woman ever holding, before. It was Sturgiss, a partner, I'd +released for war service. It was Sturgiss's, a partner's, place I'd +got. How could I give that up? How could I? How could I? If only the war +hadn't come. If only...." Strike on! + +It isn't all going as it should with the boy at the tutor's. But wasn't +it impossible to observe, at the time, that it wasn't all going as it +should? Of course (her thoughts would go) it was her fault; but was +not the world, spiritual and material, in conspiracy against her, and +against Huggo, and against her other darlings, to make easy her fault? +Ah, that war, that war! Didn't it unsettle everybody and everything? +Naturally it unsettled the boy down at the tutor's. Naturally one did +not notice or foresee the trend of his unsettlement. Naturally it made +plausible the excuses that he made. + +There he is, down there at the tutor's. He wanted to do war work, not +sitting there grinding lessons. All the tutor's pupils did. Naturally +they did. The boy couldn't go in the army. He was too young. He was in a +rural district. He got doing land-work. They all did. It was supposed to +be done in leisure hours. Naturally it encroached on, and unfitted for, +work hours. "After all," as the tutor wrote, "how can you blame the +boys? After all, it's very hard to seem to try to check this patriotic +spirit." After all! Oh, why do people say "after all" when they mean +quite the contrary? This was before all, this seductive escape +from uncongenial duties, precedent of all, influencing to all that +happened--after all. Naturally it interfered with scholastic work. That +was condoned. As naturally it interfered with discipline. That was +not mentioned by the tutor. If he was cognisant of it was not domestic +discipline everywhere relaxed "on account of the war"? + +There Huggo is. These are his holidays. After the setback at Tidborough +he was to have spent all his holidays at home. He was not, for the +future, to go away on invitations. That war! He never spent any of his +holidays at home. How could the boy be tied down in London with this war +on? He made his land-work his excuse, most plausible. He spent all his +holidays with friends whose homes were in rural districts. + +Then it turned out that he had not, as he had given out, been always +at the house of friends. He was found in cottage lodgings living with a +friend, a fellow-pupil at the tutor's; on land-work truly, but in gross +deception, and in worse. + +It came out quite by chance and in a way very horrible. Harry discovered +it. Harry, early in 1915, had been absorbed into the Home Office. His +work was very largely in connection with a special secret service body +dealing with spies. He examined in private arrested suspects. He advised +and he directed on criminal matters therewith connected. He was working, +under immense pressure, terrible hours. He was hardly ever in to dinner. +He often was away all night. He frequently was away travelling for days +together. When he was seen he showed signs of strain to Rosalie. + +He came in one evening about nine o'clock. It was early in 1916. Huggo +was then seventeen. Rosalie heard him in the hall and heard that some +one was with him. She heard him, by the dining-room door, say, "You'd +better go in there and get something to eat. I'll attend to you +presently." + +His voice was iron hard. Who was with him? What was the matter? + +He came in to her. His face was iron hard. He shut the door. "Do you +know who I've got here with me? Do you know where I've been? Do you know +what's happened?" + +His manner was extraordinary. His voice was like heavy axes, thudding. +His face was dark and passionate, menacing. Happened? Things were always +happening in these appalling days. She said, "Oh, what is it, Harry?" + +"It's Huggo." + +"Huggo?" + +"Huggo!" + +Like axes! It seemed that, of his passion (and she never before had seen +passion in his face), he scarcely could speak. He fought for words. When +they came out they thudded out. + +"Do you know where Huggo's been this past month?" + +"With the Thorntons, his friends." + +"He's not. He's lied. He's been living with some blackguard friend in +rooms in Turnhampton, in Buckinghamshire." + +"Harry! Doing what? Land-work?" + +"Land-work! Loafing! Drinking!" + +"Drinking? Huggo?" + +"Listen to me. This is what I've come to. This is what that boy's +come to. I had to go down to this place Turnhampton about a spy they'd +arrested. He was to come up in the police court there this morning. They +took the other cases first. Court going to be cleared for my man. I sat +there, waiting. The second case--this is what I've come to--was my son, +my boy, Huggo, brought up from the cells where he'd spent the night. +My son! Drunk and disorderly. He didn't see me. The police gave him a +character. I sat there and listened to it. My son! A visitor, the police +described him. Supposed to be working on some farm. Not a desirable +character in the village. My son! Always loafing about. Always in the +inn. Last night drunk. Assaulted the landlady. My son! Arrested. My +son!" + +He turned away. + +She cried, "Harry! What happened?" + +He turned on her in a violence renewed. "I declare to you that if he had +gone to prison I would not have raised a hand to stop him. He'd had +the grace--or he'd all the time had the guile--to give an assumed name. +Would I have confessed, to save him, that he was my son? I believe I +couldn't. He got off with a fine. I got hold of him. I've brought him +back. He's here." + +She went to the bell. "I must get you some food." + +He stayed her. "Food! I'll tell you what to get me. I'll tell you what +to get that boy. Get me a home. Get him a home. That's what's caused +this. Do you know what he said to me coming up in the train? I said to +him, 'Why are you always away like this? Why, in the holidays, are you +never at home?' He said, 'What home is there for me to come to? Who's +ever there?' He's right. Who is? Are you?" + +She said quietly, "Harry, not now. Dear, you are not yourself." + +He was not and continued not to be. "Well, answer my question. Are you +ever in the home?" + +She implored, "Oh, my dear!" + +He was not to be placated. "Where is the home?" + +"Harry!" + +"Where's Doda?" + +She began in her spirit to move. "Staying with friends." + +"Where's Benji?" + +"You perfectly well know. Staying with friends." + +"Where are you?" + +She put her hand to her bosom. "Oh, beware me, Harry. Here." + +"For the night. Are you ever in the children's home?" + +"Are you?" + +"That sophistry! I have my work!" + +"I've mine." + +He smote his hand upon the mantelshelf by which he stood and turned and +left the room. + +Strike on! + +Of course it healed and was obliterated and all passed over. Of course +Harry forgave the boy. Of course he was handsome to the boy's excuses. +Drunk! Of course it was just a slightly tipsy ebullition. Had been in +the hot sun in the fields all day and was affected by a too long slake +of beer. Assaulted the landlady! She'd been rough mannered and objected +to his noise and got in the way and he had pushed her. "The boy's all +right," Harry said to Rosalie after, the boy forgiven, he sat and talked +with her. "He's got no vice. How could he have? It was wrong, it was +deceitful, going off like that to that place without telling us. But he +meant no harm. He's explained. He's genuinely sorry. He's just got out +of hand a bit. They all have, the young people, in this war time. The +boy's all right. He's eighteen in a few months. I'll see if I can speed +it up a bit getting him into the army. He's magnificently keen. He'll +do fine, God bless him. Think no more about it, old lady. In the whole +business I'm only sick with myself that I lost my temper with him as I +did--and with you, my dear, and with you." And he put out his hand to +her. + +"One who never turned his back but marched breast forward." + +"And with you." Of course he was distressed he had been violent with +her. Of course that painful outbreak was healed, obliterated, put away. +He had expressed his utter regret. He'd been badly rattled with this +infernal war all that week; this business on the top of it had been +a most frightful shock to him. What had he said? Forgive, Rosalie, +forgive! Of course she had nothing to forgive. Forgiveness also was for +her to ask. As to the point thus violently raised, he saw, didn't he, +the clear impossibility of her giving up her work, war work as much as +his own, at such a time? Not to say the unnecessity of it--the children +were growing up... it clearly could be done now. The position she +held... + +He said, "I know, old lady." He said, "I know, I know," and sighed. + +Ah, from that vision of him saying, "I know," and sighing, and from the +mute appeal that then was in his eyes, from that--strike on! + +Most retentive to her, as it had passed, of Huggo's share in all that +episode had been that she from her expostulation with Huggo had not come +away with the same satisfaction as seemingly had Harry. She put before +the boy how terribly his father had felt the shame of it, how almost +broken-hearted he had been. "He idolises you, Huggo. You're always his +eldest son. He thinks the world of you." + +Huggo took it all with that familiar air of his of being the party that +was aggrieved. He listened with impatience that was not concealed and he +had no contrition to display. "Well, mother, it's all over. What is the +good of going on and on about it? I've had it by the hour from father. +He's understood. What is the good?" + +She very lovingly talked to him. He all the time had an argument. +He kept up his own case. He presently said, "And I do wish, mother, +especially now I'm going into the army soon, I do wish you'd drop that +'Huggo.' You can't tell how I hate it. You might just as well call me +Baby. It's a baby's name." + +"Oh, Huggo, it was the name we loved you by." + +"Well, I can't stick it. My name's Hugh." + +Strike on! + +There he is. He's in the army. He's utterly splendid in his uniform. How +proud of him she is! They no longer gave commissions direct from civil +life; but he'd been in the cadet corps at Tidborough and Harry was able +to get him direct into an officer cadet battalion. He's off to France +in what seems next to no time. He's home on leave and there's nothing +that's too good for him and her purse at his disposal when he's run +through Harry's generous allowance. He seems to get through an immense +amount of money on leave. He's never at home. He's often out all +night. Well, he's on leave. He's fighting for his country. You can't be +anything but utterly lenient with a boy that's fighting for his country. +He went back. Three days after he was supposed to have gone back Rosalie +came face to face with him in Piccadilly. He was with some flapper +type of girl, in the detestable phrase (as she thought it) by which the +detestable products of the war (as she thought them) were called. He was +just getting into a cab. She called out to him, astounded. She heard him +swear and he jumped into the cab and was driven away. She didn't tell +Harry. Harry found out. It came out that the boy for overstaying his +leave was to be court-martialled. She did not know what Harry did. She +noticed in those days what a beaten look Harry's face was getting. It +was, of course, the war strain; but it only was first evident to her in +that time of the court-martial. He scarcely spoke to her. She did not +know what he did, but she knew he had much influence and exerted it at +no sparing of himself. The boy got off with a severe reprimand and was +returned to France. And to be in France, out there, in that ever-present +shadow of death, was to be excused everything and to be forgiven +everything. + +Miraculously the war ended. The boy had had rather more than two years +of it. He applied for immediate demobilisation as being a student, and +he was one of the batch that got away immediately on that ground. He +was nearly twenty then. Now what was he going to do? Oxford, of course, +Harry said, and then the Bar, as always intended. Huggo, larking about +in uniform long after he ought to have been out of it, was in immense +feather with himself. He didn't say No and he didn't say Yes to the +Oxford idea. All he said was that he voted all that wasn't discussed the +very day he got back (it was more than six weeks since he had got back). +He surely, he said, was entitled to a bit of a holiday first, after +all he had been through. London seemed to be swarming with thousands +of young men who claimed they were entitled to a bit of a holiday first +after all they had been through. Huggo was never in the house. He had +picked up with a man, Telfer, whom he had met in France, a big business +man, Huggo described him as, and he seemed to spend all his time with +this man. Telfer was a much older man than Huggo. Huggo brought him to +dinner one night. It was rather a shock to Rosalie, meeting the man of +whom she had heard so much. Huggo had never said anything about his age. +He must have been quite forty. He had dull, cloudy eyes and a bad mouth. +He called Huggo "Kid," using the word in every sentence, and it was easy +to see from Harry's manner that Telfer was repellent to him. Easy, also, +and not nice, to see Telfer's dominion over Huggo. Not nice to hear +Huggo's loud, delighted laughter at everything addressed to him by +Telfer. Harry spoke less and less as the meal advanced. The two left +early; they were going to a music hall. When they had gone Rosalie and +Harry looked at one another across the table and by their look exchanged +a great deal. + +"That's a detestable companion for Huggo," Harry said. "Rosalie, there's +been enough of this. The boy must get to work." + +It appeared, in interviews following that evening, that Huggo was not a +bit keen on the Oxford idea. He wanted to go into business. He was not +clear as to precisely what kind of business, but he wanted the freedom +and the excitement of earning his own living, not to be cooped up at +the "Varsity" like back at school again. Harry took a firm line. The +boy resented the firm line. Well, anyway, he argued, he couldn't go till +October, it was only June now; all right, he'd go in October--if he +had to. Harry made arrangements for some reading through the summer +preparatory to Oxford. It upset plans made by Huggo. He thought +it "uncommonly hard" that he should have to spend the whole summer +"swotting." Oh, well, if he had to, he had to. He had an invitation for +a month for that immediate time to Scotland. The reading was arranged +to start a month ahead. He didn't in the least want to be out of London +just when there was so much going on and all his pals here; but anything +was better than sticking this kind of life at home, father always at +him; so he'd go to Scotland; he supposed he was entitled to a bit of +country holiday before they cooped him up? He went to Scotland. + +Twice during that month Rosalie thought she saw Huggo in the West End. +But London was full of young men of the Huggo type. It wasn't likely. + +It turned out to have been very likely. It turned out that Huggo had +never been in Scotland at all but in London all the time. And much worse +than that. One evening, towards the end of the so-called Scotland month, +Huggo unexpectedly walked into the house. Rosalie was sitting with Harry +in the dining-room over the end of dinner. Doda was upstairs putting +last touches to herself before going out to a dance. Doda was eighteen +then (it was 1919), had left school, and, with a large circle of +friends, was going out a great deal. Benji was still at school, at +Milchester. Harry had never resumed relations with beloved Tidborough. + +The door opened and Huggo walked in. His face was very flushed and his +articulation a little odd. When, after greetings, he sat down, he sat +down with a curiously unsteady thud and gave a little laugh and said, +"Whoa, mare, steady!" + +It appeared, after explanations, that he had come to talk about "this +Oxford business." "I really can't very well go to Oxford now, father. I +really ought to start in some money-making business now, and I've got a +jolly good opening promised me. I really ought to take it." + +The decanters were on the table. He had already taken a glass of port. +He filled another and drank it. + +"The fact is, I'm--married." + +There were some hard and bitter things said between his father and the +boy. The boy fumbled--he obviously had been drinking--between would not +or could not say very much as to who it was that he had married. + +Harry said, "Who are her people? That's a plain question, isn't it?" + +Huggo, very red, increasingly difficult to understand, said, "It's a +plain enough question. It's a plain enough question. I've come here to +be perfectly frank and plain and plain enough question. The fact is I +don't know very much about her plain enough people." + +Rosalie broke out of the frozen stupefaction that had numbed her. +"Huggo, you must know. You must know who her people are." + +Huggo turned a very slow gaze around from his father to his mother. He +looked at her. He said with astonishing violence, "Well, I tell you I +don't. People! What have her people got to do with it? I haven't married +her people. She's my little girl and I've married her, not her people. +Isn't that enough for you?" + +Harry got up and went over to him. "Look here, you'd better run along. +You're not in a fit state to talk to your mother. I'm not sure you're +in a fit state to talk to any-body or to know what you're saying. You'd +better go, my boy. We'll go into this in the morning. Come round early +in the morning. We'll settle it then." + +He was passing with Huggo through the door when Doda, equipped for her +dance, came running down the stairs. "Hull-o, Huggo! Why, I haven't seen +you for weeks. Where have you been?" + +Huggo, standing unsteadily, unsteadily regarded her. "Point is, where +are you going? All dressed up and somewhere to go! I'll bet you have! +I've seen you jazzing about the place when you haven't seen me, Dods. +And heard about you! There was a chap with me watching you at the Riddle +Club the other night told me some pretty fierce--" + +"Oh, dash, I've left my fan," cried Doda, and turned and ran back up the +stairs. + +Huggo called, "I say, Dods. I'm in a row. So'll you be one day, if you +don't look out for yourself." + +Doda's voice: "Oh, dry up--you fool!" + +Strike on! + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Her Doda! The one that was her baby girl, that was her tiny daughter! +The one that was to be her woman treasury in which she'd pour her woman +love; that was to be her self's own self, her heart's own heart, her +tiny woman-bud to be a woman with her in the house of Harry and of +Huggo! Her Doda! + +Look, there she is! There's lovely Doda! She's fourteen. It's early in +1915, in the first twelve months of the war. (That war!) She's at that +splendid school. She's been there nearly three years. She loves it. +She's never so happy as when she's there, except, judging by her +chatter, when she's away in the holidays at the house of one of her +friends. It's at home--when she is at home--that she's never really +happy. She's so dull, she always says, at home. She always wants to be +doing something, to be seeing something, to be playing with somebody. +She can't bear being in the house. She can't bear being, of an evening, +just alone with Rosalie. "Oh, dear!" she's always saying. "Oh, dear, I +do wish it would hurry up and be term time again." + +"Darling, you are a restless person," Rosalie says. + +"Well, mother, it is dull just sticking here." + +"You know how Benji loves to have you home, Doda. Benji simply lives for +you. I've never known a brother so devoted. You ought to think of Benji +sometimes, Doda." + +"Well, I can't be always thinking of Benji. I'm surely entitled to be +with my own friends sometimes. I don't ask Benji to be devoted to me." + +She's strangely given to expressions like that: "I didn't ask +for"--whatever circumstance or obligation it might be that was irksome +to her. "Not traditions--precedents!" The watchword of the school was +strangely to be traced in her attitude, still in her childish years, +towards a hundred commonplaces of the daily life. She was always +curiously older than her years. She seemed to have a natural bent +away from traditionally childish things and towards attractions not +associated with childhood. She did excellently well at the school. She +was, her reports said, uncommonly quick and vivid at her lessons. +She was always in a form above her years. Her friends, while she was +smallish, were always the elder girls, and the elder girls gave her +welcome place among them. "Perhaps a shade precocious," wrote the lady +principal in one of the laconic, penetrating sentences with which, above +her signature, each girl's report was terminated: and, in a later term, +"Has 'Forward!' for her banner, but should remember 'not too fast'." + +"Gripes! I know what she's referring to," said Doda, seeing it, and +laughed, obviously flattered. + +"Your expressions, Doda!" + +"Huggo uses it." + +"They're wretched even in Huggo. But Huggo's a boy. You're a girl." + +"Well, mother, I didn't ask to be a girl." + +"Doda, that's merely silly." + +"A lot of us say it, that's all I know." + +"Then, darling, a lot of you are silly." + +"Oh, I shall be glad when next week I go to the Fergussons. It is dull." + +Look, there she is. She's sixteen. She's beautiful. She's pretty as +a picture, and she knows she is. She's grown out of the rather early +fullness of figure that had been hers. She's slim and tall and straight +and supple and slender as a willow wand. If she had her hair up and her +skirts lengthened (skirts then were only starting on their diminution +to the knees), she'd pass for twenty anywhere, and a twenty singularly +attractive, curiously self-possessed, strikingly suggestive in her pale +and beautiful countenance, and in an alternating sleepiness and glinting +in her eyes; strikingly suggestive of, well, strikingly suggestive +according to the predilictions and the principles of the beholder. + +This was in 1917. She was beginning rather to hate school now. She +wanted to be out and doing some war work of some kind. Oh, those +sickening scarves and things they were eternally knitting, that wasn't +war work. It was fun at first. They were fed to death with doing them +now. She didn't much want to go into a hospital or into any of these +women's corps. They were a jolly sight too cooped up in those things +from what she'd heard. She wanted to go into one of the Government +offices and do clerical work. Several of the school Old Girls who had +been there with her were doing that and it was the most ripping rag. Of +course you had to work, and of course it was jolly good patriotic work, +but you had a topping time in many ways. That was what she wanted to do. +Oh, mother, do let her chuck school now and get to it! Not till she was +seventeen? Well, it was sickening. Well, it was only another term, thank +goodness. + +It was in the holidays--in her brief days at home of the holidays--in +which these wishes were expressed, that Rosalie found Doda was +corresponding with officers at the front. + +Doda was appallingly untidy in her habits. She was out one evening to a +party--she managed to get a considerable number of parties into her dull +days at home. Rosalie, come in from Field's, peeped into her bedroom to +find her. She had not known that Doda was going out. The bedroom cried +aloud that Doda had gone out. Drawers were open and articles of dress +hanging out of them. One drawer, no doubt stubborn in its yieldings, was +bodily out in the middle of the room. Clothes were on the floor. +Clothes strewed the bed. Powder was all over the mirror. It was as if a +whirlwind had passed through the room. + +"Powder!" murmured Rosalie. + +The state of the room dismayed her. The intense orderliness of her own +character forbade her ringing for a maid. She simply could not look at +untidiness like that without tidying it. She started to tidy. Doda's box +was open. Its contents looked as if a dog had burrowed in it, throwing +up the things as he worked down. If anything was to go in, everything +must first come out. Rosalie lifted out an initial clearance. + +There lay scattered beneath it quite half a dozen photographs of +officers in khaki. + +There were all inscribed. "To the school kid." "Wishing you were here." +"With kisses." "Till we meet." And with slangy nicknames of the writers. +There lay with them a number of letters, all in their envelopes. There +lay also a sheet of paper covered in Doda's bold handwriting. It began +"Wonderful Old Thing." + +Rosalie had not touched these evidences of an unknown interest in Doda's +life. She stooped, staring upon them, the lifted bundle of clothes in +her hand. The stare that took in "Wonderful Old Thing" took in also the +first few lines. They were not nice. But she oughtn't to read it. One +didn't do that kind of thing. She replaced the bundle and closed the +box. Then she tidied the room and wiped the mirror. + +Early next morning, immediately on coming out of her bath, she went in +to Doda. She opened the door softly and she distinctly saw the lids of +Doda's eyes flash up and close again. + +"Doda!" + +Doda pretended to be asleep. Rosalie had sat up for Doda the previous +night but had said nothing to her either of her discovery or of going +to an invitation without having told her. Doda wasn't pretending to be +asleep because she feared trouble. She was pretending to be asleep just +because she had no wish for an early talk with her mother. + +There was a little pang at the heart of Rosalie. + +But it was just that the child wasn't demonstrative of her affections. +None of them were. Even Benji not really what you would call +demonstrative. How beautiful the child was! Her Doda! How little she +ever saw of her! + +She called her again. + +Doda opened her eyes. "Hullo, mother." + +Just that. No more. They were different, the children. + +She sat down on Doda's bed and began to talk to her. Tidiness! "Doda, +your room as you left it last night when you went out was simply +terrible. How can you?" + +"Oh, I can't be tidy," said Doda. "I simply can't. It's no good trying." + +"Darling, you ought to try. It's so odd. I'm so fearfully tidy. It's +almost a vice with me. One would have thought you'd have had it too." + +Doda said indifferently, "I don't see why." She said, "Oh, I am sleepy. +It's a matter of teaching when you're a kid, that sort of thing. You're +tidy, but you never taught me to be tidy." + +Rosalie said some more of encouragement to tidiness. She then said, "And +there's another thing, Doda. I think you ought not to have rushed off +like that to the Trevors last night without telling me." + +"Mother, you knew where I was. I told the maids." + +"You should have consulted me, Doda." + +The child assumed the Huggo look. "Mother, how could I? They only asked +me on the telephone at tea-time. How could I have consulted you?" + +"In the same way as you were invited. On the telephone." + +"Well, I never thought about it. Why should I if I had? I knew you'd +have agreed. You wouldn't have stopped me, would you? It's dull enough, +goodness knows." + +"Doda, what I've come in to talk about is this. When I was tidying your +room last night--" + +Doda sat up. "Did you tidy my room?" + +"I couldn't possibly leave a room like that. Well, I went to tidy your +box--" + +"I'll get up," said Doda. She jumped very quickly out of bed and put on +a wrapper and her slippers. "Yes, well?" + +"Are you writing to men at the front, Doda?" + +"Every girl is. It's a thing to do. It helps them." + +"Are they friends of yours, dear? Personal friends." + +"They're brothers of girls I've stayed with." + +"All?" + +"Practically all. There're not more than two or three. Lonely soldiers, +they're called. They used to advertise. It helps them. There's no harm +in it, is there?" + +"I haven't suggested there is, Doda." + +"I can see you're going to, though. If you ask me--" She stopped. + +"I don't think I like the idea, quite. I never did when I heard of it +being done. Why should they send you their photographs?" + +"But what's the harm? Why shouldn't they?" + +"Darling, it's I am asking you. I'm your mother." + +"Well, if you ask me--" Doda walked over to the window. She stood there +a moment looking out. She suddenly turned. "If you ask me, I don't +think it's right to--Of course if you think it right to--if you've been +reading my letters--" + +"Doda, I haven't. I just saw them there. But I'd like to read them, +Doda. May I?" + +"They're private letters. I don't see how you can expect me to show you +private letters." + +Rosalie went over to Doda and stood by her and stroked her hair. "Doda, +I think we'll look at it like this. Let me read the letters and we'll +talk about them and see if it's nice to go on writing to the men, in +each individual case. That certainly you shall do, continue writing, +if it all seems nice to us, together, Doda. If you won't show them to +me--well, let us say if you'd rather not show them to me--then I'll ask +you just to burn them and we'll forget it." + +Doda stepped violently away from the hand that stroked her hair. "No. I +won't show them." + +"Then it's to burn them, Doda." + +Doda looked slowly around the room. Her face was not nice. She said +sullenly, "There's no fire here." + +"Bring them down with you to the breakfast-room. Your father will have +gone. We'll see Benji's not there." + +She went to Doda and kissed her on the forehead. Doda shut her eyes. Her +hand on Doda's shoulder could feel Doda quivering. She went to the door +and at the door said, "And the photographs, dear. I should bring them +too." + +She had long finished breakfast when at last Doda came down. The tall, +slim, beautiful and pale creature appeared in the doorway. She walked +towards the fire, her head held high, her brown hair in a thick tail to +her waist. She had a packet in her hands. As she began to stoop over the +fire she suddenly uprighted herself and turned upon her mother. She said +violently, "Perhaps you'd like to count them?" + +Rosalie said very softly, "Doda!" + +Doda bent to the flames and pressed the packet down upon them. She stood +watching them mount about it. A half-burnt photograph slid onto the +hearth. She gave a sound that was a catching at her breath and swiftly +stooped and snatched the burning fragment up and cast it on its fellows. +The leaping flames died down. She turned violently towards Rosalie, +seated at the table watching her, her heart sick. That tall, slim, +beautiful creature whose face had been pale and was habitually pale was +in her face crimson, her slight young bosom heaving, her eyes, so often +sleepy, flashing, her young hands clenched. "I call it a shame!" Her +voice was high and raw. "I call it a shame! I call it wicked! I call it +abominable! I call it an--an outrage!" + +Rosalie said, "Doda! Doda, I haven't reproached you. I haven't reproved +you. If they had been letters you could have shown me, yes, then a +shame--" + +The child called out, "I'm nearly seventeen! I call it an outrage!" + +Rosalie got up and went to her. "Darling, they couldn't be shown. +They're just burnt. They're forgotten." She put out inviting arms. "My +poor Doda!" + +That child, almost touched by her arms, brushed herself from the arms. +"Why should I have things like this done to me by you?" + +"Doda, I am your mother. You have a duty--" + +"Well, I won't have a duty! Why should I have a duty? I didn't ask to +be born, did I? You chose for me to be born, didn't you? I didn't choose +it. I'll never forget this. Never, never, never!" + +Tears rushed into her eyes and leapt from her eyes. She gave an +impassioned gesture. She rushed from the room. + +Strike on! + +Look at her. There she is. She's only eighteen but she's woman now. +Grown-up. "Out," as one would have said in the old and stupid days, but +out much wider than the freest budding woman then. It's 1919. They've +caught, the rising generation, the flag of liberty that the war flamed +across the world; license, the curmudgeons call it; liberty, the young +set free. It's 1919. She's been a year war-working in one of the huge +barracks run up all over London for the multitudes of women clerks the +Government departments needed and, the war over, not too quickly can +give up. She loves it. She's made a host of friends. Her friends are all +the girls of wealthy parents, like herself, or of parents of position if +not of means; and all, like her, are far from with complaint against the +war that's given them this priceless avenue away from home. She loves +it. Of course she doesn't love the actual work. Who would? What she +loves is the constant titillation of it. The titillation of getting down +there of a morning and of the greetings and the meetings and the rapt +resumptions of the past day's fun; the titillation of watching the clock +for lunch and of those lunches, here to-day, to-morrow there, and of the +rush to get back not too late. The titillation of watching the clock +for tea, and of tea, and then, most sharpest titillation of them all, +watching the clock for--time!; for--off!; for--out!; away! That is +the charm of it in detail. The charm in general, as once expressed to +Rosalie by one of Doda's friends brought in to tea one Sunday is, "You +see, it gets you through the day." + +That's it. The night's all right. There's nearly always something doing +for the night. It's just the day would be so hopeless were there not +this lively way of "getting through the day." That's it, for Doda. + +Until she found her feet--not in her office, but at home at first +emergence from her school--until she found her feet she often used to be +kept uncommonly late at office. In a very short while she found her +feet and that excuse no longer was put forward. Every girl of Doda's +association was on her feet in 1919; and for Doda very much easier, at +that, than for the generality, to establish her position in the house. +By 1920, when she was nineteen, she was conducting her life as she +pleased, as nineteen manifestly should. In 1921, when she was twenty, +the war work was over and she was "getting through the day" much as she +lived the night. It was pretty easy to get through the day in 1921. That +which the curmudgeons called license, and liberty the free, was in 1921 +held by charter and by right prescriptive. + +Look at her. There she is. She's lovelier yet, if that which was +her budding loveliness could bear a lovelier hue. She's always out +somewhere, or she's always off somewhere, or she's always coming in from +somewhere. Her eyes, in presentation more pronounced, have always got +that sleepy look or got that glinting look. She never talks much at +home. She seems to keep her talking for her friends and she never +brings her friends home. She's on good terms with Rosalie. That's the +expression for it. She was to have been a woman treasury into which was +to be poured by Rosalie all her woman love. She was to have been a woman +with her mother in the house of Harry and of Huggo. But that's all done. +She's not a daughter to her mother. She never asked to be born to her +mother, as once she told her mother, and though that never now again is +said it is the basis of her stand. She owes no obligations. They just +meet. They get on very pleasantly. She's on good terms with Rosalie. + +It is odd--or else it isn't odd but only natural--that in all the +pictures seen by Rosalie there scarcely is a picture that ever shows +the children all together. They hardly ever, within the compass of +her pictures, were together. As in their schoolhood, so much more in +adolescence, they never showed a least desire for one another's company. +They had their friends, each one, and much preferred their friends. +You'd not, it's true, say that of Benji; but Benji in fraternal wish had +to take what was offered him and there was nothing offered him by Doda; +by Huggo less than nothing. + +Benji! + +Look, here's the Benji one; the good, the quiet, gentle one; the one +that never gave a thought of trouble, Benji. + +Her Benji! The one that came after disfavour, after remorse; that came +with tears, with thank God, charged-with-meaning tears. The littlest +one. The one that was so tiny wee beside the big and sturdy others. Her +last one! Her Benji! + +Look, there he is. Always so quiet, gentle, good. Always, though +snubbed, so passionately fond of Doda. Look, there he is. He's at +Milchester, in his spectacles, the darling! He's always in his books. He +isn't good at games. He does so well at school. Oh, isn't Harry proud of +him and fond of him! Oh, doesn't Harry often sigh and wish he could +have gone to Tidborough to win those prizes and those honours there. But +Tidborough's closed to Harry, Harry says. Look, there goes Benji! It's +1919. He's sixteen. It's Speech Day at Milchester. He's in the Sixth. +He's won all those prizes. She's holding two and Harry's holding three, +and there he goes to take the Heriot Gold Medal. All the great hall is +simply cheering Benji! The Head is saying that he's the youngest boy +that's ever won the Heriot. Look, there's the Bishop handing it, and +shaking Benji by the hand, and patting Benji on the back, and saying +something to him. You can't possibly hear what it is, every one is +cheering so. Look, here he comes with the medal, in his spectacles, the +darling! She can scarcely see, her eyes are brimming so. Harry's quite +shameless. Harry's got tears standing on his cheeks and he's set down +the prizes and is stretching both his hands out to the boy. Feel, that's +his hand--her Benji's hand--snuggled a moment in hers, and then he turns +to his father and is eagerly whispering to his father, his spectacles +rubbing his father's head, the darling! He's more demonstrative to his +father than he is to her. She feels it rather sometimes. He's awfully +sweet to her, but, you can't help noticing it, it's more his gracious +manner than the outpouring she'd give anything to have. It's funny how +he always seems the tiniest atom strange with her as if he didn't +know her very well or hadn't known her very long. It sometimes pains a +little. He's different with his father. He loves being with his father. +And doesn't Harry love having the boy with him! Harry idolises the boy. +Of course Huggo is Harry's eldest, and whatever Huggo's disappointments, +these men--at least these perfect Harry type of men--have for their +eldest boy within their hearts a place no other child can quite exactly +fill. There's some especial yearning that the eldest seems to call. +There's some incorporation of the father's self, there's some reflection +that he sees, there's some communion that he seems to find, that makes +"My eldest son" a thing apart. But, with that reservation, and that's +ingrained in men, it's Benji that's the world to Harry. He's going to +Ox-ford. He's going to have the Bar career that Huggo wouldn't take. But +Harry thinks there's some especial wonders going to come to Benji. He +says the boy's a dreamer. He says the boy's a thinker. "Benji's got +something rare about him, Rosalie," he says. "That boy's got a mark on +him that genius has. You wait and see, old lady. It's Benji's going to +make the old name shine!" Strike on! + +It is odd, sad, significant, that there is scarcely a picture that shows +together those three children, or even two of them. It's 1921 now and +drawing very close to Finis; but always the old detachment, the seeming +want of mutual love, appears to hold the three apart. Doda is sometimes +glimpsed, no more, with Benji, always putting off or chilling off her +brother for her friends; sometimes she's seen with Huggo, meeting him +and he her, more like an acquaintance of their sets than like fruit +of the same parents; familiar, apparently, with one another's lives: +referring to places of amusement by both frequented, as had been done, +in instance, on that night of Huggo's announcement of his marriage when +with a note that rung sinister he had bantered Doda and she had turned +and run upstairs. But no more than that. The children seem to have no +mutual love. They're different. + +It's 1921. Huggo was scarcely ever seen now. He had married in haste and +had in haste repented. He also had played a trick, involving a sum of +money, on his father. His wife, as it appeared, had been met at some +dancing club and the brief courtship had continued anywhere but at her +home. Of her home Huggo knew only what she told him; and what she +told him was only what she could invent. She was then, at their first +meeting, in the uniform of a war service corps to which she belonged. +She said her father was a clergyman. + +"A clergyman's daughter!" cried Huggo bitterly, acquainting Rosalie +only three months after his marriage of his marriage's failure. "A +clergyman's daughter! That's what they all say--those! Wasn't I a fool +to be caught out by that! Oh, wasn't I a fool! If you want to know what +she really was, she was a teashop waitress, in the city somewhere. If +you want to know what her reverend father in the country was, is, he +doesn't live in the country; he lives in Holloway, and he doesn't live +in a rectory in Holloway, he lives in a baker's shop. That's what he is, +a baker! That's what I've done for myself, married a waitress! Yes, and +then you, you and father, when she comes whining here and complains I +ill-treat her and keep her without money, you two take her part and send +her back to me with your championship and get me here to pijaw me about +my duty to my pretty young wife! Well, now you know, now you know, and +you can tell father what my pretty young wife is--how she deceived me. +Deceived me! Now you know." + +Rosalie said, "Huggo, you deceived her." + +Huggo had been leaving and now very violently went. "That's your tone, +is it? I might have known! That's all you can say, is it? To see me ruin +my life and then reproach me! Ruin my life! It's not I that's ruined +my life. It's you. There, now I've told you! I can see things now. What +sort of a chance have I ever had? What sort of a home have I ever had? +Have I ever had a mother? When I was a kid did I ever have a mother like +other kids have? I can see things now. A mother! I can't ever remember a +time when I wasn't in the charge of some servant or governess or other. +You said this afternoon before father that I didn't love you. Did +you ever teach me to love you? By God, I can't remember it. By God, I +can't." + +Strike on! + +Also that trick, touching a sum of money, upon his father. When he first +made known his marriage, and it was obvious he must have his way and be +set up to start in life, he had also, as he had said, the chance of a +lucrative business. It was the kind of thing he liked. It was the kind +of thing he was keen on. It was a motor-car business. There was a little +syndicate that was putting a new car on the market. They'd got works, +just outside London somewhere. They'd got show-rooms in the West End. +And they'd got an absolutely first-class article. That chap Telfer was +one of the directors; a first-class chap called Turner was another; +they'd let him in for eight thousand pounds and he'd be absolutely set +up for life and be pulling in an immense fortune in no time. You will, +won't you, father? + +Of course Harry forgave the boy, his eldest son. The marriage was done, +what was the use of being unkind or stupid about it? Of course Rosalie +welcomed the wife, Lucy, the prettiest creature, a tiny shade common, +perhaps, but a sweet little soul with always about her a pathetic air of +being afraid of something (of when it should come out precisely what she +was, as the event proved). Of course Harry paid over the eight thousand +pounds. Huggo took, "to start with," as he said, a tiny furnished flat +in Bayswater. Rosalie installed him and his bride therein and left him, +on their first night there, ever so gay, so confident, so happy. Her +Huggo! + +In two months it all came out. Lawyers are notoriously lax in making +their own wills. Harry, who could master a case quicker than any man at +the Bar, and could see to the soul and beyond it of a hostile witness a +minute after getting on his feet to cross-examine, was fooled blind by +the syndicate that was going to put the absolutely first-class article +on the market. Whether it was that there never had been a business, and +that Harry's inspection of works, visits to show-rooms, and examination +of books, was all part of an elaborate swindle carried out with the aid +of some one who possessed these accessories; or whether it was that the +whole thing was bought up cheap merely to sell at a profit, was never +clearly known to Harry and to Rosalie. Harry was too grieved to pursue +the shock. "I'll take not a step further in the matter, Rosalie," Harry +said. "I can't bear to find the boy out deeper. It's done. There's no +sense in being stupid or unkind about it." + +What happened was that the car enterprise never was an enterprise at all +except an enterprise to get eight thousand pounds into the possession +of the syndicate. Nothing ever was properly announced by Huggo. It just +"came out." It "came out" that the syndicate was not established in the +West End show-rooms but in three rather dingy offices in the city. It +"came out" that the syndicate was not running a motor-car business but +a business cryptically described as "Agents." Huggo said disaster had +overtaken the car enterprise and that the syndicate, rescuing what +remained of the smash, had pluckily set up on another line. He thought +he could scrape along. It was a knockout of course, but he thought he +could scrape along. + +"But what I can't make out, old man," said Harry, when Huggo had +stumbled through an entirely non-explanatory explanation of the +syndicate's business in its new capacity as agents, "What I can't +make out, old man, is why you should trade under another name. Why, +'So-and-So, and So-and-So, and So-and-So, Agents'--I can't ever remember +the names? Why not 'Telfer, Occleve and Turner'?" + +"Well, as a matter of fact, father--I want you to know everything +without any concealment--" + +"I know you do, old man. I know you do." + +"Well, as a matter of fact, that's just a bit of useful swank. The names +we're trading under are swagger names and we think it sounds better." + +"Occleve sounds pretty good to me, Huggo. We've been a good long way on +Occleve, the Occleves." + +"Well, that's what they think, father, and of course, as I've told you, +they know infinitely more about business than I do. They'll explain the +whole thing to you any time you like. It's all absolutely above-board, +father." + +"My dearest old boy, don't talk like that. Of course it is. We're only +so grieved, your mother and I, that you should have had such a setback +so early. But remember, old man, the great thing is not to let your wife +suffer. No pinching or screwing for her, Huggo. Always your wife first, +Huggo. We'll give you at the rate of three hundred a year just until +all's going swimmingly, and that's to keep Lucy merry and bright, see?" + +It was shortly after that it all came out that the thing was a ramp, the +motor-car business never in existence; shortly after that it came out +Huggo was neglecting his wife; shortly after that the high words to +Rosalie, telling her how his wife had deceived him; shortly after that +that the syndicate, amazingly prosperous, moved into offices better +situated and handsomely appointed; shortly after that it came out that +the business of the syndicate was in some way connected with company +promotion. + +Harry, seen among these developments, was not the man he used to be. +He was at the crest of his career at the Bar, working enormously and +earning richly, but the old bright, cheery way had gone from Harry. +There was permanently upon his face, and there was intensified, the +beaten look that Rosalie first had seen on that night, in the war, when +there had been the Huggo drinking business and when for the first and +only time he had spoken passionately to Rosalie. When he now was at +home he used to sit for long periods doing nothing, just thinking. When +sometimes, home earlier than he, Rosalie saw him coming up the street +towards the gamboge door she noticed, terribly, the bowed shoulders, +the weary gait, the set, careworn face. She used to run down then to the +famous gamboge door and open it and greet him and his face used to light +up in the old way, but it was not the same face, and the effect of its +radiation therefore not the same. It was not that the face was older. It +was that its aspect was changed. + +He used to look up from that chair where he sat just thinking, when +Doda, butterflied for the evening, butterflied across the room, and used +to say, "Out again, Doda?" He then would relapse back into his thoughts. +He had a habit of getting up suddenly and rather strangely wandering +about from room to room of all the principal rooms of the house, just +standing at the door of each, and looking in (they were all empty of +inhabitants), and then coming back and sitting again in the chair and +just sit, thinking. + +It used to pain the heart of Rosalie. + +She said more than once when he returned from such a tour, "Dear Harry, +looking for anything?" + +He'd say rather heavily, "No; no, dear. Just having a look around." + +It used to pain the heart of Rosalie. + +But he used to be enormously brightened up when Benji came home. Benji +was just at Oxford then, eighteen. He was a different man when Benji was +at home. He used to say, "Rosalie, that boy's going to make a name for +himself in the world. My heart's wrapped round that boy, Rosalie. Ay, +me! I wish he'd been our eldest, Rosalie." + +That was because he couldn't tear away the wrappings of his heart from +about his eldest. Men can't. + +It used to pain the heart of Rosalie. + +Of course, with everything now known, Huggo was forgiven. Huggo was +prosperous now, almost aggressively prosperous. He kept a car. The +syndicate, whatever it actually did, was obviously doing enormously +well. What was the good of being stupid and unkind to the boy now that, +at last, he had found his feet? But Huggo scarcely ever came to the +house. He had virtually left Lucy. Lucy lived on in the originally-taken +furnished flat in Bayswater. Huggo had rooms somewhere, no one quite +knew where, and lived there. Rosalie used to get Lucy to the house +sometimes, but Lucy was never at her ease on these visits, and Doda, who +sympathized entirely with Huggo in the matter, very much disliked her +and would not meet her. Lucy was in bad health and she was going to have +a baby. Her health and her condition made her look much more common than +she used to look. + +Then the baby was born; a little girl. Poor, grateful Lucy called it +Rosalie. She told Rosalie that Huggo said he didn't care what the baby +was called. He was very angry about the baby. "He was worse than usual +when he was here last week," said Lucy. "I think he's got something on +his mind. I think he's worrying about something. Oh, he was sharp." + +Lucy was very ill with the birth of her baby. She didn't seem able to +pick up again from her confinement. She kept her bed. Then, suddenly, +she developed pneumonia. The maternity nurse, paid by Rosalie, was still +in attendance. Rosalie sent in another nurse, and on that same night, +going straight to the sick bed from Field's, and then coming home very +late, told Harry, who was waiting up for her, that the worst was feared +for Lucy. She then said, "Harry, if anything happens, I think we'll have +that baby here. It will practically be a case of adopting the child." + +Harry agreed. + +"I'd get in a nurse for her, the new little Rosalie." She sighed. + +"Yes, yes," said Harry. + +She said after a little, "Harry, the nurseries in use again!" + +He sat there as he was always sitting, thinking. + +She went over to him. "Dear, won't you like the nurseries to be in use +again?" + +He said slowly, "I will, very much, Rosalie. It's lonely, these empty +rooms. I will very much--in some ways." + +Rosalie knew what Harry meant. She touched his hand. "Dear, I think it +can be made different." + +Harry knew what Rosalie meant. He pressed the hand that touched his own. +"That's all right, Rosalie. That's all right, dearest." + +Rosalie was down early next morning. She desired an early breakfast and +to go on to see Lucy before Field's. It might be necessary to stay the +day with Lucy. There was also Huggo. What was Huggo doing? Overnight +Rosalie had seen Doda, come in late from an evening with a very intimate +friend of hers always known, through some private joke of Doda's, as +"the foreign friend." The foreign friend, not in the least foreign but +English, was a young married woman living apart from her husband. Doda +had brought her to the house once. She was very pretty and a cheery +soul. She would have been called fast when Rosalie was a girl. In 1921 +she would almost, in the manner she presented to Rosalie, have been +called slow. Doda and she were greatly attached. + +Doda, overnight, going straight upstairs to bed, had said, "Have you +seen Huggo to-day? He's in a scrape of some sort." + +"Oh, Doda, what kind of a scrape?" + +"He didn't tell me. I ran into him quite by chance coming away from a +theatre with the foreign friend. We both thought he was rather badly +rattled." + +"Was he going on to Lucy? Did he know Lucy was very ill indeed?" + +Doda said, "I don't know. He didn't tell me. Is she?" and indifferently +passed upstairs. + +Rosalie at her early breakfast was thinking what news the day would +give of Lucy and of Huggo. She was suddenly, by Huggo in person, brought +intelligence of both. She heard the door bell ring and in a minute Huggo +surprisingly broke into the room. He had kept his hat on. He looked +white, drawn and very agitated. He shut the door behind him. "Lucy's +dead." + +Tears sprang into the eyes of Rosalie, "Oh, my poor Huggo!" + +He made a gesture. "Oh, that's no good! Look here, mother, will you look +after things over there for me? That's all I've come in to say. Will you +see to everything and will you take the kid? I can't stop." + +He made to go. + +"Huggo, of course I will. But you'll be there? Are you going there now?" + +"I'm not. I'm going away." + +"Going away?" + +His hand was on the door. "Yes, going away. Look here, there's another +thing. If any one comes here for me will you say you haven't seen me? +It's important. It's vital." + +"Huggo, what is the matter?" + +"You'll jolly soon know. You may as well know now. Then you'll realise. +If you want to know--the police are after me." + +He was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +In the Book of Job it all happened, to Job, in the apparent compass +of one piece of time not broken by diurnal intervals, not mitigated by +recuperative cessations between blow and blow. It seemed to Rosalie that +it was like that it happened also to her. There seemed no interval. It +seemed to her wrath on wrath, visitation upon visitation, judgment upon +judgment. + +It seemed to her that she was no sooner come down out of the Old +Bailey--her hand touching at things for support, her vision vertiginous, +causing the solid ground to be in motion, her ears resonant, crying +through her brain the words she saw in Huggo's look as they removed him; +it seemed to her she was no sooner out from there than she was at the +telephone and summoned by the foreign friend and was there with Doda and +was in process of "Oh, Doda!"--"Oh, mother!"; it seemed to her she was +no sooner out from that than she was with that burly messenger, going +with him, returning from him. There were days and nights walled up in +weeks and months between these things, but that is how they seemed to +Rosalie. + +The syndicate was laid by the heels, one here, one there, Huggo in +France, very shortly after the warning that had put Huggo in flight. +The syndicate went through the police court where was unfolded a story +sensational with surprising sums of money, captivating with ingenuity of +fraud covered up by fraud to help new fraud again. The syndicate stood +in the dock at the Old Bailey. Those two of the syndicate described by +the prosecution and by the judge as the principals were sentenced to +three years' penal servitude. "You," said the judge, addressing with +a new note in his voice the third prisoner, "You, Occleve, stand in a +different--" + +Rosalie began to pray. + +Harry would not attend the trial. He had done all that could be done, +and of his position there was very much that he was able to do, and had +attended the police court during the initial proceedings. He would not +go to the Old Bailey. He would not go out. He would not read the papers. +He used to sit about the house. "My son a felon.... My boy a felon. My +son.... My eldest son...." + +Rosalie was given a seat in the floor of the court on the first days of +the hearing. On the day when the verdict was to be given and sentence +passed she could not bear that. An usher, much pitying, obtained her a +place in the gallery. She looked down immediately upon her Huggo. Her +hands, upon the ledge before her, were all the time clasped. Her eyes +alternately were in her hands and on her Huggo. Her heart moved between +her Huggo and her God. + +"You, Occleve, stand in a different position. . . ." + +She began to pray. All of her being, all of her soul, all of her life, +with a spiritual and a physical intensity transcending all that her body +and her mind had ever known, was in apotheosis of supplication. "O God +the Father! O God the Father! O God the Father!" + +Her Huggo! Those words that only in snatches she heard were being +addressed to her Huggo. + +"... Your counsel has most eloquently pleaded for you.... You bear an +honoured name.... You bear a name held in these precincts in honour, in +esteem, in love, in admiration.... You have had a good home, a great and +a noble father, a distinguished and devoted mother...." + +That suppliant crouched lower in her supplication. + +"... You have been the dupe, you have been the tool, you have been +in large part, as your counsel has pleaded, and as I believe, the +unsuspecting agent.... Nevertheless, the least sentence I can pass on +you--" + +"O God the Father, the Father!" + +"... is six months' imprisonment." + +That boy, whose head had been hung and eyes downcast, lifted his head +and raised his eyes and gave one look into the eyes of that suppliant +for him that sat above him. There was recalled by that suppliant a look +that had passed from the place of accusation to the place of assembly in +the place called the Sanhedrin. + +Her Huggo! + +They took him away. + +Doda didn't stop going out. She seemed to go out more. The pain within +that house, brought there by Huggo, seemed to make that house more than +before unbearable to Doda. She often spent the night, or the week end +away, staying with the foreign friend, she generally said. She would +have nothing whatever to do with the baby now installed in the house. +She never would go near it. Once she passed it in the hall in its +perambulator. She stopped and stooped over the face of lovely innocence +that lay there and gazed upon it with an extraordinary intensity. She +drew back with a sharp catch at her breath and sharply stepped away and +turned and ran very quickly upstairs. After that when she chanced to +pass the child, she turned aside and would not look upon the child. She +began not to look well, Rosalie thought. There often was upon her +lovely face a pinched and drawn expression, disfiguring it. On the rare +occasions when she was in to dinner she sat strangely moody. There only +was a moodiness about that table then; but the moodiness of Doda was +noticeable to Rosalie. She ate hardly at all. She sometimes would get up +suddenly before a meal was ended and go away, generally to her own room. +Very many times Rosalie would seek anxiously to question her, but apart +from the independence which commonly she maintained towards Rosalie, +Doda seemed very much to resent solicitude upon her health. "What should +be the matter? I look perfectly well, don't I?" + +"Doda, you don't. I've noticed it a long time." + +"Well, I am perfectly well. If I wasn't I'd say so." + +Strike on! + +Rosalie was called up on the telephone by the foreign friend. It was the +evening, about ten o'clock. Doda was away for a week at Brighton with +the foreign friend. She was due back to-morrow. Harry was out with +Benji. Benji was nineteen then and was home on vacation from Oxford. +Harry never could bear Benji out of his sight when Benji was home. In +the affliction that had come upon them, he seemed to cling to Benji. +Rosalie had persuaded him that evening to go with Benji to a concert. +Harry said the idea of anything like that was detestable to him, +but Rosalie had pleaded with him. Just a little chamber concert was +different. It would do him so much good to have an evening away and to +hear a little music and Benji would love it. Harry allowed himself to be +persuaded and went off arm-in-arm with Benji. He always put his arm in +Benji's when he walked with Benji. + +Rosalie was waiting for them when the telephone bell rang and she was +spoken to by the foreign friend. + +It then happened like this. + +The voice of the foreign friend was very alarmingly urgent. "Would she +come and see Doda at once, at once, at once?" + +The voice struck a chill to the heart of Rosalie. "But where are you? +You're at Brighton, aren't you? Are you speaking from Brighton?" + +"No, no. At my flat. At my flat." + +"But what is it? What is it? Why don't you tell me what it is?" + +"It's an--it's an--." The voice stammered and hesitated. + +"Oh, speak! Oh, speak." + +She could hear the voice gulping. + +"Oh, please do speak!" + +"Doda isn't very well. Doda's very ill. It's an--it's an accident." + +"I'll come. I'll come." + +"Is Mr. Occleve there?" + +"He isn't. He's out." + +"Can you get him?" + +"No. Yes. I don't know. I can't think. Oh, tell me. Tell me." + +"Will you leave a message for him to come at once?" + +"At once. At once." + +She wrote a message for Harry and she picked up a wrap and she ran out +hatless to find a cab. + +She found a cab and went to Doda. + +This all happened as quickly as bewilderingly. It was not like a +dream, and it was not like a nightmare. It was like a kind of trance to +Rosalie. + +The foreign friend was not seen at the flat. She was in some other room +and did not appear. She said afterwards, and proved, that she had been +away the previous night, leaving Doda at the flat, and had returned +to find her--as she was found; and had immediately called the nearest +doctor and then Doda's mother. + +It was the doctor that opened the door to Rosalie. He was a Scotchman; a +big and rugged man, all lines and whiskers and with a rugged accent. + +He said, "You'rre her mother, arren't ye? Where's her father?" + +"He's coming. Where is my child?" + +The doctor jerked his head towards a wall. "She's yon." + +"Tell me, please." + +He pushed a chair towards her but she shook her head. "Please tell me." + +"Ye'll want your courage." He again indicated the chair. She again shook +her head. "It'll try ye. She's dying." + +The lips of Rosalie formed the words: "Tell me." There was no sound in +her. + +The doctor said, "I cannot tell ye. It is for your husband to hear." + +The heart of Rosalie stood still. She put both her hands upon her heart +and she said to the doctor, "Tell me. I am strong." + +The doctor looked upon Rosalie intently and he said: (he was perhaps +dexterously giving her time that she might weld herself) he said, "Ye'll +need be strong. Ye look sensible. Ye'll need be sensible." He said, +"There's been before me here another--There's been a creature here +before me. There's been blackguarrd work here. There's been--that poor +child there..." He told her. + +She moaned: "O God, be merciful!" + +That child, as that night went, was in delirium. She seemed to lie upon +a bed. She lay, in fact, upon the altar of her gods, of self, of what +is vain, of liberty undisciplined, of restless itch for pleasure, and of +the gods of Rosalie, a piteous sacrifice to them. You that have tears to +shed prepare to shed them now. Or if you have no tears, but for emotion +only sneers, do stop and put the thing away. It is intolerable to think +to have beside that bed, beside that child, beside that Rosalie, your +sneers. It's not for you, and you do but exacerbate the frightful pain +there's been in feeling it with them. + +Rosalie was all night with that child. Harry was there upon the other +side upon his knees and never raised his head. Benji was there that +loved his sister so. Across the unblinded window strove a moon that +fought with mass on mass of fierce, submerging clouds as it might be a +soul that rose through infinite calamity to God. That child was in much +torment. That child was in delirium and often cried aloud. That child +burned with a fever, incredible, at touch of her poor flesh, to think +that human flesh such flame could hold and not incinerate. That child in +her delirium moaned often names and sometimes cried them out. Nicknames +that in the sexless jargon of her day and of her kind might have been +names of women and might be names of men. Darkie, Topsy, Skipper, +Kitten, Bluey, Tip, Bill, Kid. Names, sometimes, more familiar. Once +Huggo; once father; once loud and very piteously, "Benji, Benji, Benji, +Benji, Benji!" + +She never once said mother. + +She calmed and a long space was mute. The moon, its duress passed, stood +high, serene, alone. The doctor breathed, "She's passing." That child +raised her lids and her eyes looked out upon her watchers. + +Rosalie cried, "Oh, Doda!" + +That child sighed. "Oh, mother!" + +There was no note of love. There was of tenderness no note. There only +was in that child's sigh a deathly weariness. "Oh, mother!" That child +passed out. + +They came home in the very early morning. Rosalie was in her working +room. She had some things to do. She wrote to Mr. Field a letter of her +resignation from Field's Bank. She only wrote two lines. They ended, +"This is Final. I have done." + +She sealed that letter and she moved about the room unlaying and as she +unlaid, destroying, all evidences, all treasures, all landmarks, all +that in any way referred to or touched upon her working life. There were +cherished letters, there were treasured papers. She destroyed them +all. From one bundle, not touched for years, dust-covered and +time-discoloured, there came out a battered volume. She turned it over. +"Lombard Street." She opened it and saw the eager underlinings and saw +the eager margin notes, and ghosts... (it's written earlier in these +pages). She rent the book across its perished cover and pressed it on +the fire and on to the flames in the fire. "I have done." + +But she was not done with and she had the feeling that she was not done +with. She said to Harry, "This is not the children's tragedy. This is +my tragedy. These were not the children's faults. These were my +transgressions. Life is sacrifice. I never sacrificed. Sacrifice is +atonement. It now is not possible for me to atone." + +She was on her knees beside his chair. He stroked her hair. + +There was an inquest. Harry went. She stayed at home and Benji stayed +with her to be with her. Benji was not to be consoled. His mood was very +dreadful. A report was printed in the evening paper before Harry came +home. Benji read it and told Rosalie a witness, a man, had been arrested +on the coroner's warrant. Benji said, "I think I'll go out now, mother, +for a little." + +Later in the afternoon when Rosalie was with Harry a maid came into the +room and looked at Harry and saw how sunk he was in his chair and so +went to Rosalie and whispered to her. Rosalie went out. There was a man +wished to see the master. Rosalie spoke to him. He was a large, burly +man with a strong face. He looked like, and was, a police officer in +plain clothes. Rosalie heard what he began to say and said she would go +with him. In the cab, the man told her about it. All his sentences began +with or contained "The young gentleman." + +"The young gentleman... the prisoner, when the young gentleman +came rushing in, happened to be in the charge-room writing out a +statement.... The young gentleman, before any one could stop him, rushed +at this prisoner and caught him by the throat and threw him and the +table over and banged the man's head against the floor, fair trying to +kill him. They got the young gentleman off. They ought to have arrested +the young gentleman, and they did most earnestly wish they had of +arrested him, and blamed themselves properly that they didn't arrest +him. But they felt cruelly sorry for the young gentleman and they got +him outside and let him go and no more said. Of course, as madam +knew, the police office wasn't very far from Gower Street station, the +underground station with them steep stairs leading straight down from +the street to the platform, as madam might be aware.... The young +gentleman was seen by witnesses, whose names were took, to come rushing +down these stairs on to the platform as if some one was after him.... +The young gentleman come rushing down and there was a train just coming +in, and whether he couldn't stop or whether he.... There's some say +one thing and some say the other.... Whichever way it was the young +gentleman...." + +Rosalie did her errand with the man and then came back to Harry. She had +to tell Harry. + +He was sitting in his chair. He had an open book on his knees. She saw, +as one notices these things, it was a Shakespeare. She stood up there at +the door before him and she said, "Harry--Benji!" + +He saw it in her face. + +He groaned. + +He took the book off his knees and fumbled it, and with a groaning +mutter dropped it: "'Unarm, Eros, the long day's work is done.'" + +She came to him and saw, as one sees things, above his head the picture +he had hung when raven was his hair and radiant his face, and had hit +his thumb, and jumped, and cried out, "Mice and Mumps!" and had laughed +and wrung his hands, and cried out, "Mice and Mumps!" and laughed again. +She came to him and saw him wilt and crumple in his chair, and could +have sworn she saw the iron of his head, that had been raven, go grey +anew and greyer yet. She came to him and she said, "Harry--Benji--an +accident--not an accident--on the railway--killed." + +His voice went, not exclamatorily, but in a thick mutter, as one agrope, +in sudden darkness, befogged, betrayed. "My God, my God, my God, my God, +my God!" + +She fell on her knees; and on her arms and on his lap she buried then +her face. + +He suddenly stooped to her, and caught his arms about her, and raised +her to him, and pressed his face to hers, and held her there; and his +cry was as once before, passionately holding her, his cry had been; then +from his heart to her heart, now from the abysses of his soul to her +soul's depths, "Rosalie! Rosalie!" + + + + +POSTSCRIPT. + + +There was to have been some more of it; but there, they're in each +other's arms, and one has suffered so with them one cannot any more go +on. One's suffered so! One has looked backward with her. The heart must +break but for a forward glimpse:-- + +They're all right now. Huggo's in Canada. He writes every week. They're +all right now. That other Rosalie that they brought in is looking after +them. She's looking after them, that elf, that sprite, that tricksy +scrap, that sunshine thing. She calls Harry father and Rosalie she +calls mother. She has all her meals with them. There's no nurse. +It's breakfast she loves best. She's on the itch all breakfast. When +breakfast's done she's off her chair and hopping. She trumpets in +her tiny voice, "Lessons! Lessons!" She trumpets in her tiny voice, +"Lessons, lessons! On mother's knee! On mother's knee!" + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of This Freedom, by A. S. M. 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